(B01C00) The Kingdom: Introduction - The Resurrection

Rapture

I can still remember the sound of cracking and thumping—sounds that a human head makes when it forcefully meets a concrete floor, covered only by an eighth of an inch of hospital carpet. Behind the darkness of closed eyelids came a repetitive explosion of colors starting from white, then black, and then wavy colors of the spectrum—all appearing and then disappearing in the waves of air around the room. The blunt pain and confusion from such an action was no match for the eruption of visual entertainment which occurred as my own memories ran from the front of my prefrontal cortex, scattering like a school of fish inside my skull. This once empty container was recently filled with visions and memories of which I had no prior introduction.

Fluttering between those reverberations were many images, erupting from the darkest corners of my mind. This collection of shattered colors, visualizations, and time-laden laws of both past and future took over my senses entirely. I became a tool for my own self-destruction--or self-creation. I wasn't attempting to kill myself, exactly; I merely wanted to make sense of what I was feeling and experiencing. However, I admit, there was a part of me who wanted to knock myself unconscious so I could remove myself entirely from the physical world. This feeling of powerlessness over my own energy had become too much in a single moment. I needed something to remove me from this confusion--for I was not yet capable of handling this on my own. I started to panic. The white concrete walls started closing in all around me. I closed my eyes, now full of tears, and screamed, “I wanna go home!”

From the air around my body, I watch myself endure a psychological pain I had not yet endured in the 36 years of my life. As tears stream down my face, I could feel and simultaneously witness this experience as a ghost in the room. The padded hospital socks slowly slip down my heels as my body starts to writhe on the thin carpet. Within about 30 seconds after screaming, the nurses huddled around me, trying to get me to stop. I curled up into a ball below the 20-inch television, mounted in the common area of the 4th floor of the Pottstown Hospital. This was the floor designated for mental health patients, suicide attempts, 302 cases, and individuals who struggle with basic life skills.

I was sent to this place which is normally reserved for individuals who are a danger to others or themselves. My mother felt that I would be “safer” here than my home—even though I didn't even mention anything about hurting myself or others. I didn't feel as if I belonged here. Not only was I not upset, but I had just experienced one of the most beautifully transforming moments of my entire life. I was so confused, and being away from those who I loved and trusted just made everything feel so cruel.

At this point, the present version of myself had no idea of what was going on—or what it was feeling, seeing, or experiencing. This, of course, is the issue with awakening and reincarnation: awareness and acceptance. It is tantamount to getting in your car and driving away, only to realize that someone was hiding in your back seat, waiting to yell, "surprise!" Needless to say, my entrance may have been a bit too sudden. However, there are not many ways one can go about these types. of transformations without creating some turbulence. It was such a helpless moment, watching myself as I struggled with what would later be seen as a resurrection from another place and time entirely.

In slow motion, as the nurses injected me with something to calm me down, I began to rest on the floor. The tears and writhing stopped. All that was left was a heavy pulsing in my head, caused by the repeated smacking sound I produced with my forehead on the concrete floor. Luckily, there was no bleeding. As my tears begin to dry from my face, I transition to a catatonic state, resigning to my present circumstances. The explosion of energy changes from external to internal. Physically still, my mind channels visions and memories like a super-feed filled with a million movies for every single beat of my heart. This was an opportunity that I could finally update myself on what had just occurred.

Yet, that didn't last too long. As my body struggled for the comfort of familiarity, my attention kept reaching for old memories and rational explanations of what I was experiencing. Unfortunately, I had not yet learned enough to do so without cutting off the transmission I had returned to deliver--to myself. Knowing this would happen, I appeased myself enough so that I could rest. I focused on something simple: my dog, Ginger. Ginger was waiting at home for me. Even though I could do nothing about at the time, I knew that she would be there whenever I returned.

She was the only thing I could rely on to ground me. Even my own parents seemed foreign to me in these moments. As I settled into a pleasant memory, my mind expanded a bit. Now, I missed the freedom of being able to go outside. I missed having freedom. I missed being home. However, as I thought of the word “home,” I felt a connection to something so much further away than the house I had just been in only a few hours ago. Not only did this "home" seem so distant, but it also felt as if it was in some other time entirely. Though quite confusing, these questions were essential. Each of them helped to guide me back to my intuition. The more time I could spend in internal reflection, the more I would be able to merge the energies within.

However, there were only a few ways that I could communicate through me from this other time and space. The best method for any of us is, of course, creation. I loved music my entire life. I loved poetry, for I could always feel the presence of something greater behind every line, word, or letter. In fact, nothing calmed me down and centered me more than experiencing the multitude of secrets behind language. After all, my mother was an English literature teacher. When I was a child, she used to read me Shakespeare sonnets to help me sleep--or when I was sick and had trouble breathing. Whenever I felt confused, panicked, or uncomfortable, all I ever needed was the right words, and I would find myself again.

Simpler Times

JD Stahl (11/12/2017)

Simpler times will come again, Through silent sin and recent risk. Who am I to blame the fist? I could only throw cause to fly. And when they’ve landed, ask them why. Ask them why the flowers died. Make them see the absolution From the attempts of overlooked solutions. From when you made me see the light With just two eyes late in the night. You brought to me a better one, When the stairway showed up in the song. And now all that I see is beauty, And the best ones of you and me. The bottom ones will not cause to fly. The older ones will come down for the try. Simpler times between day and night. Will you concede the softer fight? Won’t you sigh and see again? The follies of of the human man. For he’s within the love of new days. He’s seeking reception of a modern sage. And toughness sparks from supple sides. Yet upon the top is where he resides. The fool resides within us all, For he’s the one who can hear the call. Let no fear come within his sight, So we can cleanse him in the light. Bathed in milk, he’s born in dreams. Saved from drowning in the stream. He makes his own beckoning call To the angels who have seen it all. For they can notify the highest guard, If they can see the phoenix scars. And they’ll design a better one, Shaped by moons around the sun.

Home

Just days before my admission to the hospital, my mind had exploded with information, visions, and knowledge of a future place and time that seemed alien/strange to me. My “home” was not in this place or time, but from somewhere else where sickness, ignorance, division, or secrets did not plague my environment. As true as this was, my mind struggled with the new abilities and information in a supernova of internal expansion that many have used to describe an “awakening” to higher consciousness.

Though I could still identify myself with my present circumstances, I also felt as if I had just been delivered from a kingdom, complete with inner and outer peace for every single person around me. Having touched bliss so completely, I struggled to adjust to the differences of my present environment. Honestly, I couldn't remember where I was. Everything felt fake around me--like a staged television show. I was expecting for everyone around me to break the 4th wall and admit that it was all some huge production, intended to prepare me for something greater. However, any time I even hinted at such a concept, I was looked at with blank stares by those around me. I could barely tell the difference between a memory, a dream, and true reality. All of them seemed to blend together in my mind.

It's a strange feeling to be turned in such a way—to return back to a physical existence that was once a distant memory. It was like waking from a dream into another dream and then into a place in time—like deja vu, but with more memory of another moment than the one in which I had entered. I became exhausted just thinking about everything. In a matter of about 20 minutes, I felt as if I had just finished studying statistics for hours and hours. I curled myself up into the fetal position of my hospital cot and pulled the thin sheets up to my face as I rocked myself into a comfortable position. While I waited for the medication to take, I rubbed my feet together underneath the baby blue padded hospital socks. I moaned slightly underneath my exhales, pleading to the spirits to deliver me from this madness and give me clarity. Yet, I was just speaking to myself in this moment.

As I fell into sleep, the entire conceptual definition of “reality” began to retreat. I released my grip on both body and mind and fell back into the dream that felt more “home” to me than anything else that I had felt before in my entire life. However, whenever I tried to imagine a mental picture of this abstractual “home,” I couldn't identify any specific geographical location. The further I fell into slumber, the more distant this concept of "home" felt. Eventually, it reached the moon. But right before I dropped into a place beyond memory, it expanded exponentially further away. None of these conclusions, however, seemed absolute.

Each iterative definition of the word equally rang true. My thoughts used to be so "concretely" anchored into a singular, linear idea. However, after my head met the concrete floor of the hospital, those linear thoughts cracked, shaking loose a multiverse of tangential synchronicities, which would later redefine my entire concept of both Truth and Reality.

In the Beginning

Though the 36-year-old man that lay helpless on the floor believed this to be the “end,” it was actually a beginning. In a sense, I had been born—or reborn—from a state of regret and resignation, somewhere in the future. As I started to blend together the energies inside me, I could feel two completely different voices attempt to claim the same body. Both maintained two wildly different perspectives. No matter what I would do from this moment, those energies would inevitably merge, engulfing their respective foil.

Though. the previous day had been marred with nurses and concussive explosions, today felt different. I was "playing" the part of both energies in a single consciousness--like speaking an entirely new language that only I could truly understand. I was (at the very least) able to recognize that there was something buried deep inside me that had just awoken. Normally, I would have been able to keep it at bay, but this time it wanted to get out--just like I had felt inside the hospital. Fortunately, this presence was much calmer, more confident, and incredibly invigorating. The more that I identified with it, the younger and more energetic I felt.

This euphoria helped me reconnect with what initially brought me to the hospital. Had it not been for the bliss I had experienced over the past two weeks, I would have simply assumed that I was dying; or worse, that I was losing my mind. However, this naturally-occurring psychedelic experience “spoke” to me (and through me) with incredible wisdom and amplified sensitivity. It simultaneously felt like me; but at the same time it was as if I was "chosen" by something much greater than I could have ever perceived myself to be--even at my greatest potential or ideal.

In all of our lives, I guess it's pretty obvious that we live in two different worlds simultaneously. Though most of us assume that we only occupy an inner world and an outer world—it is quite more complex than that. Unfortunately, at an early age, most of us end up traumatizing ourself with our first exercise of free will. Instead of manifesting our internal world into the environment around us, we end up absorbing our external world and allow it to redecorate our internal kingdom. We are so enamored by this colorful theme park around us that we end up walking over the moat around the castle, only to turn back and see that the drawbridge has lifted, preventing our return without great effort.

In our youth, we are unable to discern the difference between what is and what is not. At that point in our development, there really is no difference between the two. That is, of course, until someone comes along and convinces us otherwise. And we believe them. Why? Because at that age we only know unconditional love--nothing else. Without alternatives, our practice of this unconditional love expresses itself in something called "blind faith." This ideal faith is built entirely upon trust. We entrust our entire lives and hearts to those we initially identify as our protectors, guides, teachers, and models of character. Mainly, of course, our parents. Yet, it them we also see ourselves. In this experience is the same type of confusion that any of us would identify as our "rebirth" or "resurrection," regardless of when (or how often) it may occur in any of our lives.

Ideally, when anyone has a “spiritual awakening,” we return to a temporary state of non-duality. We feel as if we have just recently been "dropped" through a funnel, landing in a state of persistent wonder, euphoria, peace, and bliss. At the same time, the lack of familiarity and confusion combines this will fear, anxiety, sadness, and an intense yearning for comfort--like trying to crawl back into the womb after a physical birth. After all, we associate that womb as the original kingdom from which we were initially formed. It was not only familiar, but it was safe--safe from further attempts to separate or fragment us into greater complexity. Afterwards, however, we are wrought with emotional turmoil, laboring over which concept of "reality" is more "real" than the other. Yet, at the same time, they both feel fit to be labeled with something so divine as "absolute Truth."

Yet, anyone looks into the eyes of a newborn baby, they can see the wonder of the same euphoric discernment as it struggles to converge the concept of duality into a single point or Truth. For many of us, we are lucky enough to call back that feeling when we feast our eyes on anything which expands what we previously believed to be possible. Each time this happens, we are given a "call," which is an opportunity to either follow the butterfly or turn back and run for the familiar safety of the womb. Our most consistent practice of free will is based on this one decision: to grow or to remain the same.

Those who consistently remain on the same linear path which offers the most predictability, control, or group acceptance do not often experience the persistent miracles, synchronicities, and awakenings which those who rather choose to risk their own sanity to peek beyond the proverbial veil. And though this "great beyond" may seem like a distant reach for all of us, it is actually a return to a place which existed before we left our kingdoms. Luckily, the "way" back is just as easy as the practice of returning to "blind faith." However, to some, that may be the most difficult and confusing task with which one could ever endure. This is the journey of becoming. At the same time, it is the same as returning.

As any of us seeks to return (or become) this original kingdom, many things happen. Like I have been describing, the process is very akin to losing your mind. I guess, if I had wanted to deny all that. Ihad experienced, I could have just simply settled for a mental health diagnosis. Fortunately, too much had occurred in the past few weeks for me to write off this awakening with something so simple as modern psychology. In fact, it felt as if everything I was experiencing was completely riding on the knowledge that I would foolishly follow my child-like enthusiasm and wonder back to a "place" which all of us could (equally) consider as our original "home."

In each and every moment that I released control over my experience, i felt a rush of energy enter my body. Complete with visions, all returning explanatory similarities (synchronicities). As these tangents converge into a single point, I was elevated--consciously and emotionally--out of a linear reality construct. One could envision this as if I was riding in an elevator, rising up the floors through something which resembles a glass onion full of various colors of light. It would be like traveling through the center of a diamond, walking through a million walls/cuts of innocence, wonder, and perception. Each level would feel absolutely true; and no matter how far you fell, there was no bottom or pit. Paradoxically, the further "down" you went, the more expansive things felt--until you merged with the diamond entirely.

Simply because we so often use the physical world to explain and define our journey, we easily lose this paradoxical relationship. The interdependence we have with our environment is consistently reciprocal; meaning, that we can never define perception as an absolute without severing ourselves from our environment. This, of course, causes us to feel a traumatic pain--like being born. As a result of something which feels equally as a gift and a curse, we cry. The pain of awakening comes when we make the attempt to discern the difference between two equally valid worlds (both physical and nonphysical). As we incorporate time, eventually the pain balances out the euphoria, we feel stillness (emptiness). Until we can "rest" back into a blind faith, our energy bleeds out, creating more "time" to process.

Unfortunately, few. of us are ever taught at such an early age that we don't have to choose one or the other. If we were simply allowed to believe in both--equally--we could maintain our connection to our kingdom--at least consciously. Because we are uneducated on this basic interdependence, our energy severs itself from this inner fire. From that fire, we return to occasionally enlighten our path on our respective journeys. However, the crux of our pain is sourced from believing we must choose one world from the other, instead of being taught how to marry them together. As a result, we incur many scars in our lives; most of them around the walls we forge around our hearts.

Phoenix Scars

The pain that most people associate with insanity is actually just a reopening of a wound which was just about to heal. For most of us, we are so used to healing that we have become comfortable with the itching, drama, and noise which lets us know we are still alive. We struggle with wanting to be absorbed and accepted into our external reality, but still cling to our subtle uniqueness just enough that we are stuck in-between. How we perceive this negotiation in our own minds is what constitutes our philosophy on life, our spiritual belief systems, and how we perceive ourselves.

It isn't until these world collide that we are confronted with our own duality—which makes us panic as if we are being violated or forced upon—by ourselves—without consent. The trauma we experience is caused inevitably by blaming this birthing pain on something in our external world--rather than recognizing that we have the power to return to our kingdoms in an instant--just simply by seeking the balance of unconditional love, blind faith, and trust in the identification of the "Source" as something within us--not outside of us.

When these worlds are so different, the breakdown becomes amplified. When we are feeling confident and powerful, our vulnerable nature feels like an unwelcome guest. Alternatively, we feel traumatized by our own unquenchable expectations, standards, and limitations we enter a state of discomfort or resentment. Yet, both of these “voices” are sourced from the same internal fire or spark. All too often, many of us choose to default back into comfort, safety, and familiarity, fearing exclusion from the external world with which we have made our initial commitment (marriage). As a result, we end up replaying old dusty VHS tapes at any moment we return to a state of conscious presence. At the same time, in every single breath we are offered the opportunity to return to the kingdom of immortality from which we began. All it takes is the simple act of forgiveness--to ourselves for ever believing we had to choose one or the other.

Jokers and Fools

In between each and every breath is a doorway to this infinite state of immortal existence. The further we go down the spiral (towards the door or to the pit/center of the diamond) the quicker these moments (relatively) become, increasing simultaneously in depth and intensity. Unfortunately, most of us are so busy watching our old tapes and imagining the future that we rarely ever allow ourselves to be perpetually resurrected in such a way. our attachment to the external world, it's expectations, and linear, rational consistency is the source of all of our suffering—all of it.

All we need to do to be "born again," resurrected, or reincarnated is to believe--without hesitation or doubt. This, as we know, is blind faith. If we can imagine our ideal, without condemning it to linear concepts or preferences, then we can free ourselves from our previous selves (addiction to the VHS tapes). However, doing so requires us. to trade in the "gift" that we received from our initial departure from the kingdom. That gift (and curse) is a label of "sanity" from our external world. Instead of living in perpetual bliss, we have instead been forced to mislabel blind faith and unconditional love. Instead, we were forced to believe that anything which cannot be seen or physically proven to be "insane." The problem with that is that we cannot separate unconditional love from this category. And so, we experience many cuts, bruises, scrapes, and scars because of this one simple mistranslation.

Luckily, the proverbial "door" is always open--and has always been open. We just have to walk through it and leave behind our limitations and false definitions to which our egos have become addicted. Suffice it to say, we have "withdrawal" from this addiction before we can lower the "drawbridge" to return to our kingdom once again. Fortunately, that is as easy to do as it was to undo. All we have to do is re-member and then leave the door open long enough to absorb the totality of our rebirth. But like the phoenix, we often have to burn away anything and everything that we falsely believed ourselves to be--and not be. Sadly, that can be as traumatic to an adult as taking a blanket or Teddy bear away from a child. We don't cling to what is best for us, only to what is familiar—no matter how bad it smells or how many scars, burns, or tears it has. If we could only show this reverent love to ourselves, every morning we rise again and again.

Phoenix

JD Stahl (07/02/2018) As I write this next new chapter, The crowd is covered in doubt. While the faithful seeds are sown The madman grows only doubt. And in his collected time He gives his heart to those who hold The last lines of long lost loves, While the pictures hold his only gold. Deep in your red eyes he sees The past in which he used to breathe. Humbly he falls to his knees And burns his wings from aging seas. From exile to faith he holds on strong. Even though he’s sad he won’t belong, He was raised to sing His song. It’s the only thing he knows isn’t wrong. Captured papers and all missed bluff. Meanwhile, seeking deeper stuff, The sensitive boy had tuned to lust And wonders why he cannot trust. For all his life, he’s reached for joy. And now you laugh at the little boy, Left empty by his broken toys And sharpened daggers that you’ve employed. And while he sits, alone to mend, Surrounded by faithful few friends, He captures lines from the very end. In his head, he will rise again.

Necessary Weakness

One of the most underrated gifts we can ever receive is a mental breakdown. These are spiritual awakenings just the same. The difference between these types of awakenings is that we use our own pain to fuel the experience. We cannibalize a previous version of ourselves entirely. I guess this is why it feels so strange or forbidden. In a sense, it would be like Adam vomiting up the apple that was given to him by Eve and eating it over again. It doesn't even make much sense; and yet, after it's over, we feel “fed.” In these moments, we recognize ourselves as the source of our burdens--naked to the entire world. In that one moment, we realize that we have caused pain to all of the wrong people our entire lives. This exposure is as equally painful as it is blissful. Upon release of either labels, we merge with our true selves, behind the walls of our kingdom.

This experience can be so blissfully painful that even the most zen-like human beings can crumble to the floor. Though we don't actually experience any physical pain, the confusion we feel is indiscernible to death--at least to the ego. If there is anything we are hiding from ourselves (on any plane of existence) we will be confronted with in in these moments. Our mind feels as if it is being torn apart, like velcro.

Attempting to fully accept two completely different points of consciousness in a single mind--with no experience--was excruciating. Similarly, if I revealed to you everything that I had endured on my own personal journey to awakening in a single chapter (or book) would just come across as wildly inappropriate or otherwise written off as fantasy. Therefore, in order to ease you into this "new world," I have to "tease" you into I heightened state of awareness--the best way that I could. In order to get anyone to release their dependence on rationality or linearity, it helps to entertain you. Entertainment is the most effective way to introduce abstract concepts which go against popular definitions of sanity--without being labeled as "insane" or condemned to a hospital.

And so, I will attempt to do for you what I did for myself for the entirely of my life. I have left behind prophecies, lessons, secrets, and relationships hidden deep inside all of creation. No matter what artistic medium you prefer, everything we need. to know has been stored in plain sight. However, it has been written in a language of poetry, parable, and symbolism so that only those who were seeking the "magic" contained on the other side would ever be willing to learn the language. This language is, in itself, the "key" which will guide each of us back to our personal kingdoms. Though each of us has a unique "way" back, the language is the consistency which has always linked us all back to the same source. In each of you--in all of your lives--you were a prophet. And now, by this chosen method of entertainment, I will introduce you to your "chosen" selves--just like I had done in these many pages.

Prophecy 47

JD Stahl (06/30/2020) Please restore my visions and not just at night. Plethora of daydreams, at this hammers sight. For once pretty pictures and sunlight delight, Oranges and apples, for you to insight. Rapturous chemicals and time-laden laws Are rushed into rivers and bubbles in falls. Life and death dichotomy and wondrous plight. Go up and go down, go left or go right. Pleasure of spirits for Eden calls to come. Go back and go forward, wherever you’re from. Slight imperfections will prepare the great feast. And decades of demons will starve out the beast. Conditions of waters you brought to the stream. Compositions and mixtures to increase the team. Contractions and factions will heed the great call Of the pinnacle of bodies right after the fall. Harmonious pipelines lead back to the seas, That once woven midnight in waves and in pleas. This opportunity of darkness gives birth a new age, Which dives down dimensions and rewrites the last page. When two become one, behind the first sun. Go the great distance, within, do not run. The race will take pace from illusions to grab, And erases duplicity without electing a slab. This now perfect vision from a combination of color, Is the future’s new model from them become other. Do not define old and new into the tracks. When we travel forward, they will always come back.

Rise From the Ashes

This story I'm about to reveal to you is not something with which you may have any previous experience or exposure. In fact, the purpose of this story is not so much dependent on whether or not you understand me, my life, or my purpose. Here, in these chapters and books is a story—each section filled with a different energy of action—both yours and mine. Being that you are reading these lines right now, you are with me as I walk through my personal journey. Therefore, this story is a method of union, yoga, or transcendence where I will invite you all inside of yourselves.

I intend to take you through a world of darkness, energy, and space. The things that you will experience will guide you to your own personal kingdoms. As I am with you and you are with me, some will experience joy, pain, sadness, and euphoria right alongside of me. Even if you do not understand, agree, or identify with the things I will tell you, please keep reading. It is not necessarily the words which will transform and transfigure you, but the invisible energy—the art—that I have buried deep within the language. And so, these books are a method of transcendence—a yoga (union) which will reconnect you to the place and condition from which we all once began.

The process of transformation is not always pleasant—at least at first. However, just like any other birthing process, once the pain has ended, each of us are able to experience a new life. Whether it be the fires of purification or the baptismal waters of truth, each of us are always guided towards our highest, best selves. This process of being “chosen” has already been fated and ordained before each of us were even born.

Each of us are like photons of light, growing from within. Similar to the natural process of photosynthesis, certain photos are “chosen” to lead others in a place which exists outside of time and space itself. There is an energy which already knows which photon will be successful. And from even before time can measure the process, this photon is empowered to lead all other cells in the plant, teaching and guiding the other cells in their environment how to reach the light of the sun.

What many of us don't realize about our own lives is that each of us were “chosen” by the same process. Whether we choose fire or water, in the depths of each of us is a well which springs forth eternal life. None of us would be here if we had not been destined to succeed in this life. Therefore, each of us—even before conception—were enlightened and begotten by a truth which exists outside of the physical world. Each of us are divine stars, waiting to rise from the ashes of our previous selves. We are the only ones who can “save” ourselves from being imprisoned inside of our own mental prisons, limitations, and illusions.

Rise From the Ashes

JD Stahl (01/05/2019) Excuse me while I burn this down. These ashes burn from root to crown, While my desire knows no bounds. Rebirth—not softer—to turn around. It’s time to cut the circle’s cycles And grow from those coddled scars You’ve hidden under years of worship To the pity gods, behind imagined bars. The somber seven that hold your wings Have been waiting for your seething rage To settle for nothing but the next few days Where you plant intention in the smoking sage. Your friends and loved ones have not yet met This burning brother you’ve hidden in your chest Far from all your soft thin skin. Must now emerge, this kin of past sins. You were foolish to think it was only light That drove you from your bed at night. The combination of black and white Is your true power and birthright. When these two meet will be the death of each. And in the flames you will forge a single form. This is not the time for paradise pictures. This is the moment that you will die to be reborn.

Epiphany: The Manifestation

As you begin to accept the things I tell you, you too will experience synchronicities and miracles—each of them created for you, by you, from a time and space which you have yet to experience. In order to assure you that I am not merely making this up for dramatic purposes, I have collected fragments of light that I have hidden within all of creation. From these seeds of inspiration, devotion, and love I hope to guide you outside your bodies and minds, back to the “place” we were all predestined (chosen) to return.

Manifest

JD Stahl (08/18/2019) Get out of my house. Get out of this head. This unleaded feeling is happening again. A double-featured creature is making its way. Trapped in my heart, with something to say. Dismantled distraction. No lack of attraction. A journey of fury which has now reclaimed control. Gets birthed in a hurry, like a horse to its foal. Just sit with this silence and the traveling patrol. What sits behind walls? What waits after the falls? This is the degree in which you seek to breathe. Down to your knees and bleed for the frequencies That paint your new scene from the pivotal reprieve. You have created the art. You have designated this heart. Now it waits in this chamber for you to save her. Turn from those who turn from your stranger. The weight of their sake will clear any danger. It’s time for the endings. It’s time for beginnings. The clock struck me and now I’m half past one. You’ve asked me for answers. You asked me for love. So let it be written. So let it be done.

All that we create in this world can be considered art. This is not necessarily limited by media, form, or method. Every place we source our energy becomes a direct connection to the source of all energy. Scientifically, energy is not something which can be either created or destroyed, only transferred. The amount of energy that any of our creations will contain depends on how devoted we are to the places of purity from where it came into being. Therefore, each and every song, poem, movie, building, bodily form, child, and movement contains a certain portion of this source energy—which cannot be made impure by any physical means. All of this energy is necessary to maintain the balance of the physical world.

Behind the languages, words, symbols, and methods each of us use to manifest anything in this physical world is a divine plan: the balance of all things. Though some of us may call this Natural Law or balance as “God,” Nature, Source, or anything else, each of them are unitarily of one absolute Truth. Therefore, no matter what methods, languages, words, or media we choose to express our devotion to that which is greater than ourselves, this Truth is spoken in a language which stands above them all. At the top of the proverbial mountain is an energy—a fire which burns eternally.

Each of us are lit by this fire each time we devote ourselves to the creation of something which inspires a love which is unconditional. In this way, we not not only connect ourselves to the source of eternal life, but we also fill this entire world with yet another fragment of divinity which can be consumed by all who have “eyes to see” or “ears to hear” the energy which projects its purity from behind the veil of space and time. Behind each vibrating atom is a tone—the “throne” which inspired all of creation.

Sounding from this tone (throne) is the most simplistic language: waveform. Positive, negative, and ground (the trinity) is the 3-letter language of the ether--also known as dark matter (space). Historically, this has been understood as the language of “angels” or other divine messengers sent from the nonphysical world to be made manifest. in the physical world. Every single written language--in all possible extensions--is based on either a line, dot, and shape. Similarly, every single atom is based on positive, negative, and ground charges. The invisible lines which connect all of these extensions of energy will provide you with the "key" to decode all of creation.

The story itself is intended to hypnotize you into a brain wave state where I can teach you this language subliminally. Therefore, all you must do to attain this “key” is to read and believe—that's it. The rest of the energy has already been built into the message. So, even if you don't understand—or agree with the things I say—that is not important. What is important is that you continue to read, for that is the only way in which you will be able to absorb the energy of transformation. When you combine this with your sincere belief (faith), you will expand your consciousness to a point where you will resurrected and returned to your ideal, immortal self. You will transfigure yourself into the key to your very own kingdom, here...now.

So let it be written; so let it be done.

I AM

JD Stahl (07/01/2017)

Ahh...to be able to encapsulate my being in a single explanation to others, for the sake of introducing myself in a way that is understood.

Making marks within my personality to display the full range of my universal understanding, dipping my mind into every sub-category color and mixture that I have ever been introduced. A social palette, ever-expanding and bleeding into the abstract. Never settling and only ever fighting against static definition. To resign to a label is to die.

My image, my name, inappropriately tethered to me. Everyone I have ever met knows a different version of me, many of which I have shed completely. Yet, their obsolete judgments and memories still remain, like ghosts in an old house. Your sarcasm and disbelief are the proof of my magic.

I am not a type. I am not a sub-culture. I am molded by every day, forever malleable by the transient love I encounter from one soul to the next. I don't participate in exclusion and I am nobody you have ever met before; I am everyone you have ever met before.

I am art, poetry, and spirit. I am the physical manifestation of immortal emotion that you call "history." I am the power and the passion behind the words that move you and the music that saves you in your best memory.

I am your truest love. I am your strangest secret. I am your most trustworthy friend and your boldest fantasy. I am your shape-shifting dream and your easiest target. I was brought here to be your equal. Your treatment of me is how you feel about yourself.

You may look at me as if you know me--as you know the clouds in the sky. I only have this face so that you can see me. I only have this body so I can carry my message--a lesson wrapped inside an example. Behind a mirror. In my eyes. Inside your mind.

I am.