Projekt Darker Sides of Moon

A long time back, there was the experiment and the satellite around the corner. Many came towards and played on these fertile grounds. Lost knowledge today does not reckon what in reality was the grandest play of our times till date. 

There are 28 major star alignment for the civilizations which constructed this planet for their amusement and advancement. They came here on rotation one after the other; one day at a time. 

Let me not beat around the bush so to speak, and get to the point. The moon up on the horizon which we look for our inspiration has been out there for a specific reason. Moreover the side which we cannot ever see with our naked eyes. 

We have bodies and we have souls. Souls are our holograms of the real selves. Souls are what we are on another planet in another time dealing with different dimensions even. 
And this is a cosmic game - where we pick up a hologram self and cover it with a body (so that we can adapt to the external environment of the planet we be sitting on - it can be of course something other than a planet too)

So this is what strikes me, our forefathers look at the skies and they see it coincide with the amount of days for the moon to wax and wane and then project all of humanity to be one of these 28 star constellation systems which each day of the moon it coincides with. 
It is almost as if every unique day of the moon - there is one star system from where the souls transmigrate to the earth into the wombs and take life. They take on the hologram selves and even the body and come down here to play. 
Just like all of us, who come down here to integrate play around and then give birth to another life form from another planetary system. 

Maybe thats why the moon never shows us her dark side - maybe thats where the pods are - and our real selves sitting playing the video game. Where we create our images and teleport them in our mother's womb. 
For a realistic ride like never before, and when done maybe go back intermittently and reincarnate back into the next level of our journey here. 
Our journey focusing on forgetting and remembering our true selves. The journey of where we came from and who we really are. The play of our selves in the garden of eden and seen from the moon! 

Peace and Joy! 

Sweating Train

I get up like clockwork, check my time left. See my beloved's face sleeping in peace. There seems to be a bit of sanity left yet. Cannot be sure.
Sun's is dawning, veins crawling and there is a bit of venom still instilled in the self. Get up move on, before death creeps up. This day or the next - yes it is around the corner waiting for all without bias

The toil is taking its toll and there is no cure.
                                                                     There is one more born on this hour - beloved's grace godlike face. Nothing going to stop the stands of time. The universe conspiring for the birth to take place and the born to step up and move on. This is the circular evolution of time and space.

Standing waiting for the train to arrive on the station, nothing gonna catch me as a surprise, or will I let it?


Why be born when we are gonna spend all of our precious time on this train station - waiting for that goddamned train, waiting for us to grow old insane; waiting till time swallows us up whole - waiting for someone to get up from their seats for us to save our souls.

I am not dictating another way, but a feeling of unity - that which I feel sitting getting pushed inside the compartment of this sweating train. They come and go - chit chat a little to make one feel a little in the mix and inevitably everyone disperses. I stay quiet till the end arrives, get out slow without anyone dictating my arrival time.
There is subtle godliness in this moment - when the train arrives on the station and whistles past. I get up and rush inside - the zen awakens with a million fly past me jumping hither thither for a inch's space.

As the train jerks here and there, the heads bob up and down - outside the kids rummaging the tracks and shitting their pants on the ground, this may be the heaven once thought about by our gods. This may be the hint of our sweet redemption. Sitting claustrophobic for one to light a match, sitting waiting endlessly for a random station to light up the signals in our rummaged neural track. Sitting waiting for death to cross us over twice or more. Sitting here waiting for our sweat to slowly pour (and mingle unto another)

Now the sun is setting and everyone is back to their matchbox homes, leaving the compartments all on desolation row. In the darkness sometimes I fail to arrive, I sit in the darkness and let myself cry.
Where hence has humanity become the program it now specifies, get up and move inside metal worms to show its productivity and efficiency besides.
I pray sincerely and in between my tears I laugh a little, as if the sweat of the day has become an extension through the tears at night. I pray for calamity to strike and that these trains may stop one day. In between stations and time, leaving people in a delirious limbo - striking delight. That there be spontaneity sublime and people leave their programmed existence even for a moment
I pray and cry and sweat and try and why dont you do the same. Where the train shall stop moving and we be still waiting in the compartment for nothing but the moment to grab hold of us, wreck us and remake us again.

Peace and enjoy the slow train acoming!