Intellect Hanging On The Wings Of The Immaculate

Intellect Hanging On The Wings Of The Immaculate

Sometimes, you need to be reminded that; You are a brave soul. With wings to fly. You have the muscles and energy of your ancestors strong in you right now. Remember You Are Royal, and Your Intelligence is A Reminder of This Very Fact of Your Flight! Connecting with the plural (a group) means understanding the singular landscape (Individual sense of self).

I hope you can listen to this affirmation, and then move accordingly into a Higher Height and even a deeper depth. You got this!

You are intelligent – remember that. If you don’t feel like you are, you can learn about yourself. Get familiar with the sand. Understand nature and unlock the pineal gland. Realizing on a conscious collective that we all have been given this knowledge individually. At the primitive core – we reflect a broader reality. No longer must we subject ourselves to the illusion of systematic indoctrination. All of us can push into higher places with the sharpening of insight.

It takes studying. Reading. Listening.

We have been given mobility, and that grants us access to our individual journey. Realizing that our abilities can be sharpened and we can go to further than we ever thought was possible.

In other words: The knowledge of your abilities is hanging on the wings of those who have gone that far – your ancestors.

Advertisements

Ambiguous Windows

Ambiguous Windows

The rise of the enchanting normal
Separates the odd and the desolate
Ambiguous windows are imagination’s fate

I know that revelation is out there
I can sense the tap on my shoulder
Once turning away from it – the touch persisted and became older
I Can’t find the source of my irritation
Might it be the mind leading me to imagination?

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

Everybody’s looking for a story to relate
Looking at a situation that encourages them to no longer wait
Although I can play recommended part
I can’t convince myself to start

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

When lost to the present idea – I’m pulled by the culture of group think
Everyone abiding by their own ink
If we can believe our own rosy illusion
Why should we run away at confusion

I’ve looked in the mirror far too less
My reflection is anyone’s guess
I much rather look out the window to find anything that can be
Imagination removes the veil and sets us free