Comeback

Many of you were dismayed believing my lack of visibility denoted abscence. That is not so. I told you, if you need me, you can find me in the words. You see, you always thought me a contradiction. You thought me a scam. You thought my words vague. My allegiances crossed. I have only ever had one mission. It is the primary function. You begged me to interpret a gift. I asked why you would so easily allow another to manipulate your own interpretation. Therein lies so much of your power.

We discussed the structure of your world, the cosmos. We talked. When burdens diminished your inner fire, I fanned the flames of your passion with my words. But you warned me to stop. You were afraid. You said I would get in trouble, inciting rebellion. You called me a mystery. You were drawn to my song, like moths to the flame. You called me chaotic. Bitter. Terrifying. Amazing. Beautiful. Confused. Scattered. I am. I am all these things and more. Do not limit my essence and thusly your own, to a mere thought or name. I am inspired. And you cannot live without that essence. Still, I would have you stirred to passion. Stirred to create in your own right. I inspired you. I gave you hope. I helped you face fear. I told you not to fear the demons. You are protected as much as you are protection and protecting. I told you not to censor the inciting incident. Rather, wield it like a mighty sword cutting away the vines that block your path. And in turn, you inspired me. And we laughed, and in that laughter a thousand souls danced.

You have been right and wrong. I gave you tools with which to arm yourselves so that you might force the tower that blocks you from your true frequency. If you followed me before, then come and play with me again. The only way to see me is to feel me. But you got caught up in appearance. I needed you to feel me. I wrote of Metamorphosis. I told you to come out of your cocoon. To paint with your tears if you must, but for the love of all things holy, paint. Paint your truth even if your voice must be your paint and your lips the brush. I told you to go through that dimension into light. We stand on a precipice. But I know you want to leap. I know you feel that. Or you would not keep asking me, WHY.

You are numb. Asleep. The war drums beat. Feel them. Feel that otherworldly pulse. Dance with me in that steamy place. Let me in. A seed is a tiny thing. But in the right soil, it can crack a foundation. You were given that message in the yellow east. A small thing can upend a mighty foe. The Achilles Heal, if you will. I want you to dream with me. If I inspired you, then share that with others. Turn your magic on. That is how you heal a world. That is how you wield energy. And energy is law.

I want art. I want all your seeds. I want your songs. How I so love your notes. I want your essence to flow freely. I want you unhinged and inebriated, drunk on the power of creation. It was never about imperfection and punishment. You were lied to when you were told you were not so already. It has only ever been about the soul. But not in the way you were taught. I want you to see beyond the veil. To feel. And in all things, trust in yourself. That is sacred medicine.

There is no mystery in creation. Connect your energy through your favorite things. Barter in your communities. I have told you this so many times. You create your own limitations. See beyond them. Think outside the box to remedy the oppressive systems blocking you from the sun. And if you feel uninspired, and do not know where to turn, turn to all the things you love. And create something there. Even the smallest of creation, no matter how insignificant you think it to be, is a player on this stage. And every one is connected to this circuitry.

Alone, we cannot win. Together, our frequency is stronger and penetrates deeper. Create something. Flood me with these messages. I do listen to you. But you think me silent. Aloof. I know many tongues but speak one language. Speak to me with your talents. That is why it is the universal language. In it, there can be no confusion. That is why you do not interpret a gift. It may only be judged in truth by its recipient. Which means, there will be many meanings and truth. Resonate in that vibration.

“Richard said withdrawal and disgust is not the same as apathy.” You can call it by any name, Richard, it is all delay. I gave you my words. I inspired you. I stoked your heart. But what I gave away for free, you held on to, and in so doing you clinched the hope that could have shone for others. Your talent is a gift that was meant to give. I give you my creation. You transmute that energy into your own creation through inspiration. You give your creation. Someone else then…that ripple. And what is a ripple but a spiral. Ripples become waves. And waves become tsunamis with the power to reshape, redefine, and restructure your world. Infinity. That is eternal. It is the current so many fight, a force which should never be damned. It is a powerful cosmic connection. One small seed, as cliche as it sounds after all these eras, that is all that is necessary. Let it flow with the wind. In the current. And it will inspire. That is pollination. That is life.

Stop thinking and start creating.

Stop fighting and start building masterpieces.

Turn your magic on.

Let us play.

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