The Most Beautiful World

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And maybe because the stars remember

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The Stars Remember


And maybe the stars remember when you were crying out by yourself, out of sheer loneliness.

Loneliness of existence.
You heard that real happiness is only true when shared and you wished to have someone to understand the circumstances of your burden, of the heavy albatross that’s weighing on your shoulders.

Those feelings of hopelessness are like waves of heaviness that crashes up against the hull of your heart.

If you have a nagging sense of sinking all alone in the wider cosmos, that’s because you are sinking.
Those feelings of loneliness are all too real because you are alone.
You are not crazy.
You are alone because you are.

Took me years to understand that.
I had family and friends telling me that I wasn’t alone, that they were with me.
This created tension with my beings, disharmony that led me to despair.
Why would I feel alone if I’m not? Everybody says that they are with me!

Except, they weren’t.
They were not trying to be mean or to drag me down.
Quite the opposite.
Those were words of comfort.


Except that there is not a better world out there that a world painted with my own eyes and discovered with the own beat of my feet brushing against lush grass and flowers that partake the path of my own earthly destiny.

This is a world meant to be discovered as the player one.

When we project oneself in the astral realm and enter the Akashic records of reality, we discover that we aren’t alone, but everything in it. We are the totality of everything that ever was and will be.

This is so profound that words can’t describe it.
So maybe pictures will.
For words themselves have a limit to what they can convey. They create the world in a senseless restless madness of labels and shadows and the Truth stays behind the veil of ignorance.


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Above: Sleeping in the rear seat of the Jeep Wrangler, crossing Baja Cali to the mainland (Mexico!)


The logos wasn’t a word, but a breath, and breath can create song of hopes and song of angers and song of mercy and it is mercy tonight that I am offering you. For the stars remember your very own soul – your identity, your heart and your creativity. You were created as a god, as a limitless boundless creature meant to create the most beautiful world. There is mercy and grace found in the shelters of the stars: Get out, go camping, go talk to them. Among the great tragedy of the 21th century is having kids, heck, even adults, that never seen the stars.

You were made to carry the divine spark in your being, carrying it over and over the waves of resistance rocking your mind and body left and right and up and down in a series of motion where sickness is the symptom of a greater harm: the fatal illness still has no name, but its weight sinks you down daily.

There is no unity without a deep, soul-shaking experience of loneliness.
If you experience oppressing feeling of it, let me tell you that there’s hope.


From the void comes the light, from death comes life, and from depravity comes redemption.
He who has known the taste of ultimate void – the separation of himself with the cosmos, a lone child of the stars that lost himself in the game of life – can enter the game as a new player, a player that is a fighter.

And where there is a fighter that understands that the whole universe is himself, made out of stardust, twirling and swirling like an intrepid dance of light and energy and molecular patterns that produce and reproduce echoes of The One, the point-zero of everything that appears and peers through reality, when the Player One really gets it, his loneliness goes away and the feeling of peace and hope comes back as an ocean of Love.

For the stars remember themselves, and so you do.

Jean-Pascal