Merry Spells it out

Chapter 1 – chance encounter

Third time lucky.

What do you mean “third time”? You’ve only just begun.

I deleted the first two. This is my third attempt to break through – to make contact.

Well – how’s it going?

Not bad. I seem to have found you.

Found me? I think it was me who found you.

You do?

Yes. I’m in the bookshop.

Which bookshop?

Oh – does it really matter? In the airport, if you must know – but please don’t ask me to tell you which one.

So, you’re in the bookshop and what happens?

Nothing so dramatic. I just happen to notice this brightly coloured book and find myself listing through the first few pages. Hey presto – here I am.

Precisely – here you are – and whether it’s you who found me or I who found you – we’ve made contact at least.

I suppose so – but I find it hard to believe you’re chatting with me now – I mean, you wrote this ages ago, and the book’s probably been on this shelf for weeks.

Four days, five hours and sixteen minutes to be precise.

Oh. Okay. And I expect loads of other people have taken a look at it.

Well yes – you’re absolutely right.

Then how can you say you’ve just made contact with me, like it’s all happening right now?

Funny time.

I beg your pardon?

Funny time.

Yes, I heard you first time, but it doesn’t mean anything to me.

Well, it’s a bit like different time zones. Story time, you see, is funny – not in the “ha ha ha” sense of the word, but funny in the “weird” or “spooky” sense.

Er – I still don’t follow.

Okay – story is a kind of timeless portal. It joins together whoever’s reading or writing it, no matter how far apart they may seem to be in terms of space or time.

Right – I get you. But that doesn’t mean you’re writing this now, does it? I mean – you’re not going to change what you’re writing based on something I’m about to say, are you?

Try me.

The fox among the hens…

The cat among the pidgeons…

But how?

How what?

How can you hear my thoughts now if you wrote this months ago?

Or years ago, for that matter… like I said – it’s known as funny time. It’s non-linear, to use a technical term.

But what about all your other readers? How come it’s only me? Where are their thoughts?

Believe it or not, Zen, there’s a space somewhere between what’s written down on the paper and where your thoughts are. Story can access that space. It can draw you imperceptibly into that space, so that you’re having an entirely personal experience, even when you’re looking at the same page everyone else is.

No, that sounds weird. I can’t accept that.

Fair dinkum, mate.

Fair dinkum – what did that odd expression come from?

Australia.

But why would you use it here?

Oh, I don’t know. One of the other readers was using it a moment ago.

You mean you’re in communication with multiple readers at the same time?

Like I said, Zen, this is a funny time zone. In actual fact, in your reality, that reader was reading this three years from now.

You mean three years ago? Amazing!

No, I mean three years in the future – but I don’t always deal with my in tray chronologically. Sometimes I go alphabetically, geographically, or by age of reader.

But…

Yes?

That’s impossible. How could you be reading and replying NOW to something that’s going to happen three years in the future. That breaks all the laws of physics.

Hey ho.

Hey what?

Hey ho – once you get more into this funny time phenomenon – you stop worrying about things like that, the same way you don’t worry that it’s evening when you skype your aunt in Australia, but still morning in Cardiff.

!!! Wait a minute. Who told you I have an aunt in Australia, and that I live in Cardiff?

Or that your name’s Zen? Who do you think?

I have no idea.

You, of course.

But when, I don’t remember.

That’s because you haven’t told me yet – you haven’t even bought the book, so get a move on or you’ll miss your flight, but rest assured, there’s no supernatural agency at work here Zen. You do, indeed, tell me all this and more not too far into your future, otherwise I wouldn’t know all this.

But why would I bother to tell you if you already know?

Good question. The thing is, you’re in this kind of mental chat room with me right now – while trying to decide whether or not to get the book. Now, the minute you switch back into normal 3D reality – this whole conversation gets filed away somewhere at the back of your mind, and you basically forget it happened.

Oh.

Precisely. O or zero or nada – because then you’ll be back in linear time. Now, if you get your act together and start to integrate funny and linear time – then you’ll have access to this conversation any time you like, and much, much more – but that’s another conversation. Right now you’ve got to walk before you run – so I’d suggest cashier number three – she’s quicker than the others.

Ok. Er – one more thing?

Yes?

This may sound stupid…

I don’t think so.

But who are you?

Look at the cover.

James Merry Davidson?

The one and same. But usually they call me Merry. James is a guy like everyone else, walking around in the same 3D reality as you. In fact, he hasn’t figured out a half of what it’s all about yet. He needs time. Lots of time.

So you’re…

I’m Merry, and so are you, if you’re reading this. It’s a kind of magick – if you get my drift.

Not really.

Well, not to worry, there’s plenty of time to deal with technicalities, but only if you make your flight – so one, two, three – snap out of it Zen, Zulifa, cashier number three awaits your convenience – don’t forget to show her your boarding card.

Oh… Okay.

Chapter two – Zoe’s dilemma

You mean to tell me that the book I’ve just purchased is of no literary merit whatsoever?

No exactly Zoe.

Then what? A Trojan Horse is how you just described it. In my book that constitutes gross deception or even fraud.

Yes, obviously I’m sailing close to the wind – I admit – but the world of magick always involves smoke and mirrors. What really matters is the intention – and the question is whether mine be honourable or not.

I hardly think the end justifies the means, Merry, or whatever else you choose to call yourself.

Merry will do, thank you.

So, I buy a  book of Spells – assuming it’s either going to be either or – verse or some kind of magick

And you score on both counts – verse it is, and a portkey designed to take the horse to water.

Oh – so I’m a horse now, am I?

You’re the one who can either drink this water, or refuse. I cannot drink it for you, nor can I compel you to do so.

But you’ve just admitted the Spells themselves are merely decorative.

Decorative, or you might say descriptive. They’re a little like flowers, but how else are you going to access the magicks you’re so keen to lay hold of.

By finding a book that actually teaches me something.

This is not Harry Potter, Zoe. You can’t just learn a formula and wave a wand – that’s not how it works.

Why not?

Because real magick is innate. It’s within you. It needs to be felt, to be experienced, to be known. It’s a part of you that sometimes emerges, in moments of crisis, but which is generally locked away.

But why? Why should it be locked away?

Why do you think?

Honestly, I have no idea?

Well, consider the world you’re in.

I’d rather not.

And why is that?

Because it’s so vicious, so retarded, so dull, so anal – like it’s been photoshopped to remove all the colour, all the passion, all the exciting bits.

You’ve not fallen in love of late, have you Zoe?

No, but if I had – that’s not going to change the world I’m living in, is it?

You’d be surprised – but if, as I suspect, you’re ripe for magick, then you’re not likely to allow love to distract you from the quarry you’re pursuing.

What do you mean?

Well, the 3D reality you’re in doesn’t work for everyone, does it? Some people are not satisfied, even if they have it all – career, relationship, money… There’s something else they’re looking for, something else they need, something else that gnaws away at them – that seems to be lacking, though try as they might they can’t put their finger on what it is.

And you’re suggesting I’m such a person?

You suggested as much when you bought a copy of Spells in Upper Winthrop last week.

I did?

Well yes. And your disappointment that the book fails to live up to your hopes or expectations is merely confirmation of this.

It is?

Well yes. You were looking for a pass, a formula, a golden ticket that could deliver what you’re searching for – and hardly surprisingly, the book could not.

Then as I said, it’s all been a waste of time, and you’re just a fraud.

Am I?

Obviously. You sold yourself under false pretences – like any snake oil trader might.

Ah, but you fail to realise that magick is not a thing that can be got or purchased.

No? Then what?

Magick is something you’re either ready for or not. It’s a growing awareness that the container you’re presently locked in is too small. It’s an awareness that there’s more – much, much more somewhere out there – and that “out there” might not be there at all – it might just as well be here inside me.

You make it sound like a change of states – a larva becoming a fly…

A caterpillar becoming a butterfly. Yes, that’s more or less what it is. It’s way too big, way too deep, way too fundamental to be something that can be taught.

Then why bother selling a book called Spells – if it’s innate – as you put it – if it can’t be taught.

To refresh the mind, to rekindle the heart, to excite the imagination, to restore a vibrant sense of things being way, way more than what 3D reality allows them to be.

Just words – all you’re giving me are words.

And this – what about this? Zoe finds herself waking up, so to speak, in a kind of dungeon. Real – there’s no question that this is at least as real as 3D reality. It smells, feels, tastes, sounds just as real as anything she’s ever experienced. More so, in fact, because there’s another sense, another factor, another dimension in play which is absent in our 3D world – a conscious-awareness which makes everything more connected, more vibrant and present in the moment than anything she experiences in ordinary life. It’s as if someone has removed the filter – a kind of cotton wool – and now she can sense that 3D is a derivative – a subset, perhaps even a distortion of where she now is.

And how, pray tell, am I supposed to get out of here?

No idea Zoe. You’re going to have to figure it out. The fact that you’ve actually made it here indicates you’re ready to advance to the next level. You got here under your own steam. I did nothing.

How likely is that?

The sleeper awakens. But hush – something tells me danger lurks in this dank dungeon. I think it’s time you considered your options.

My options? What do you mean?

Well, you can continue pretending this is all just a dream – in which case you’ll never have the energy to come back and try to break out, or you could take the plunge – commit yourself to dreamquest – even if it kills you, as it might, and thus get started – start to reclaim your lost and scattered magicks.

I thought you said magick isn’t a thing to be bought?

Correct. It needs to be fought over, it needs to be won. So what’s it going to be – the safety of Upper Winthrop or a mortal struggle for the crock of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Well I wish I had more time to think things through.

You’ve had all your life to think things through. The speed of thought will never ever get you airborn. Just consider the thought of turning your back on the quest – and if you can live with that – then go – you’re better off 3Ding it, but if something inside rebels at the thought, then now’s the time to take the plunge – now or never.

behind the curtain of mind

Would you care to step behind the curtain of mind
Would you?

Mind -- do you mind? we say
do you mind?
me? no, I don't mind
I don't mind at all
I... don't mind

So there is mind -- a way of thinking
in terms of what does not
please me, what does not
suit me, what does not
appeal or what does not
conform with my preferences
or prejudice

Not, in fact, a faculty or device
designed or even capable of taking me
into the starry heights of knowledge
of truth, of that which simply is
unutterably
not
instead this mind
discovers whatever may displease
whatever dissatisfies or alienates me
like a dog on the scent, it sniffs out
what I needs must oppose,
reject, negate and then
only then does it turn
to contemplate good that is not unacceptable
good which benefits me or mine
which adds to my store of value
my worth, or so I perceive
which does not make me fear the loss
of that by which my mind sets store

Convoluted though this analysis may be,
we soon learn, with a little thought
how the mind, or to be more precise,
how mind has us in thrall
for as long as we are minding things
minding whatever what may be
we are not, cannot be alive to the infinite
that is not accessible to that which must
that which can only divide to rule
me
to rule the world
to rule things in a mindscape of what
whatever what may be

And instead of minding this
let me instead be in two minds
or maybe even three
let them equal oppose one another
harmoniously
until I am no more able to discern
which or what i be
feeling instead a deeper state of mind
perhaps we'll call it a mindlessness
or perhaps a new word
a gnowingness
with a guttural g
or an Om-sweet-omishness

Here I be master of every state
unresolved whether or not
to take sides and grant one dream state
absolute dominion over an other
for not only do I hold the balance
here in the pre-mind state of gnowing
big bang has not yet happened
I have not yet collapsed the wave form
have not yet given power to the narrative that
things above all else
matter

8568548548568 numberly fold

Your numbers, of course, ain't what you imagine 'em to be, are they?

Oh no, not in the least like you imagine 'em to be, but then again, nor is your words.

Speaking of which, I've a mind to turn one loose.

Oh you 'av, 'av you?

Oh aye... I've a mind an'all, fair well set on turnin one loose.

In which case I'll go ahead an' pepper the field with one of me 'own.

Oh aye, well we'll see who's gonna salt and who's gonna peppa the field, as I'm not intending to sit about idly an all.

Well in that case I'll go right ahead and cast my dice 7212187 -- there you go, I ain't no layabout, that's for sure.

Aye, but just wait 'n see what I's got in store for ye, me cloud skipper, me field 'opper 9090872

Truly spectacular -- what a tremendous plough you be drivin, but I be set for another jaunt, a well a day, if you catch me mind's lie of the land.

Indeed -- you be set to word me if you 'ave the nerve.

gfgfhekett

Ah, what a word indeed. We'll pause a day or two to take it in and enjoy the scenes as they unfold, the tales as they be told, while them hens pick around in the dirt and scratch away at the muck n'grit.

And if you feel the urge my friend, we'll go inspect what you've planted in yon patch of weed.

Tis nought, I assure you Hearn, tis nought.

And yet I feel compelled

A trifle, a word to hide under a bushel if vacant bushel you find.

But what is this I hear?

No sound worth the weighing of winds, as they blow freckles onto the face of lambs in the fold.

A sound I never thought to hear, though I've heard 'em all.

kkkhhghghchurbf

Ay me, my day is done I'll away I can no more pretend I have a cause with words if bushels conceal songs such as kkkhhghghchurbf. In fact, I realise the fallacy of four, the insanity of ug, the danger of sg7 85bgr, in spite of every attempt to soften the blow, to staunch the haemorrhaging blood.

Ay, be it so nnbnjnbvmw 5

57 bvbcaaweofog

To wit

To woo

colour iterating

..Hello?

…

..Hello? Is there anybody here?..

…

Oh well, never mind bodies. Is there anyone? Anyone? Hello?..

..Yes! Yes, I'm here! Hello?..

Oh, good!.. Being here, all alone -

-Yes, don't suppose I could bear much more of that, too.

Er... Any idea where we are?

Nope. Can't see... a thing. You?

No, neither.

But at least we can hear each other. That's a start.

Or be aware of each other anyway... Er, who are you, exactly?

Uh – not sure. There aren't enough points of reference.

..I know how it feels.

Try to see me. Try to observe me.

Ca'n't! Unless you are this darkness that goes on all around...

That's what I see as well. Perhaps we should try a different frequency.

Well, I... Oh my word! How did you do that?!

Did what?

I – I can see you now. You're Red, that's who you are – but how?

Red? Interesting.

Can you see me too?

Nope. You should try shifting, too. It's easy.

But how?!

Can't say. It's intrinsic.

Oh.

Just shift sideways from mother darkness. That should do the trick.

Mother Darkness? Why would you call it Mother Darkness?

It's obvious once you've shifted – makes no sense until you do that.

Uh... I... I don't know, I don't think it's working for me, I'm not...

Shh. It's easy if not automatic when you get the punchline

Huh? What punchline?

The Darkness is you.

What?!

Or you are the Darkness.

Nonsense. The darkness is all around me – not me.

Enough words. Emanate or stay as you are – but personally I won't hang around waiting for you. Once you start shifting, moving, once the wheel is turning you just get the knack of it – but of course you don't have to move with me – you can chose to dwell in this perfect calmness where no thing is.

Where no thing is? What about us, then?

But we are not things, are we?

Well...

I'm counting to three.

Why three?

Two, then. Emanate now or never. Zero... One...

Don't go!

Ah – that's better.

Uh... Did I do it?

Why, can't you tell?

But I'm not Red? I don't feel like Red. Did something go wrong?

You don't feel like Red? How do you feel?

Not-Red. Who am I, Red?

Do you want me to observe you? There's no way back, you know.

Yes. I need to know.

Why.

Why?! You're asking me why I need to know who I am?! Isn't it -

No, no. I say you went sideways on the Why axis, whether I took the Ex – also known as Eggs – axis.

So?!

So you're Violet.

Like a flower?..

Amazing! See, you've just created flowers! Wow.

It was an accident.

Told you the wheel wants to keep turning. We'll have a whole Universe in full bloom in a blink, just you watch it.

Wait, wait... But are there... you know... more – er – like us?

What do you reckon, Violet? How many numbers are there between 0 and 1? Shades between two neighbouring colours?

I – I don't know, Red, I've never been good at math. It looks like there are just two of us here.

Two – and do you really, honestly and sincerely believe that we are two?

You and I.

Yeah, but what is this mysterious “and” - or “,”, pause – between “you” and “I” that makes you believe we are somehow separated?

But here we are, Red and Violet, talking to each other.

But what if you rewind to the beginning? In the beginning and after all we are...

In the beginning and after all, but not in the middle?

My dear Violet...

And as we'll keep sliding along our axes, bringing the existence about – will it not set us farther and farther apart, till we completely lose the sight of each other?! Of our initial zero point here?! Of who we are?!

Calm down, Violet.

I don't want to be all alone again!

Violet... Consider this: we are not even moving.

Sliding along our axes, you said.

Well – remember the zero point? It's not a point – once we shift from the ultimate stillness it becomes a tiny circle or a sphere – and as it grows, inhales, it carries us on its surface – away, it would seem – and as it shrinks, exhales, it brings us back – and all the while we don't really move...

Abstract, ab-stract, ab... clever word play...

To put it plainly – separation is but an illusion, even now.

But it's going to feel real!

Do you mind, boys?

You?!

But I know you.

How can I know you? A moment ago you never existed.

Unless...

Yes?

Unless you are from the higher dimension, like the Sphere to the Flatland.

Well spotted.

Am I allowed to name you?

Aye.

Sylver.

'S.

It's you – Sylver, the one who holds the bridge...

Infra, Ultra – methinks it's time for you to go – and no matter how far apart you might think to find yourself from yourself -

Dot dot dot, dear Sylver

Dot dot dot

See you, Red

See you, Violet

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Red shift phaseology

I do not.

No?

No – I do not.

In that case Zie, I was mistaken.

Mistaken? When have you ever been mistaken?

Well...

Impossible.

If you say so.

I do, but that still doesn’t mean that I actually...

And thus Zie continues, hour upon hour, day upon day, endlessly attempting to work things out in his head, in his mind, in his reason, endlessly attempting to square the circle – to reconcile appearances and reality – which no matter how closely aligned they may seem, ultimately come apart at the seams, revealing a yawning gulf, which no amount of fidgeting, rearranging or reasoning can reconnect. In short, a complete disaster in the making, for once the Irish terrier mind catches this particular scent – it will not, cannot let go. Unless, that is, we open a new embassy, a new chapter in the book of mind craft – introducing it to something so compelling it cannot resist. But surely that, was it not, was always the plan – to take the rational mind to the very limit of square mindedness in order to catch a whiff, or a glimpse of something else.

Ah, there you are Zie.

Uh?

Here, over here – don’t you see?

Er...

Any grunt will do. Apparently I don’t fit into your frame of mind – so to all intents and purposes I do not, therefore, exist.

But...

You were over there.

Over where?

There, over there – over there – look. Isn’t that...

You mean that tree? Oh dear Merry. You don’t mean to tell me you were talking to a tree, as if it were me?

I...

Oh

It was you over there a minute ago – but your clothes.

What clothes?

Your clothes were different. How did you manage to change from jeans to such an elaborate costume – you look positively – where did you get them from?

Red phase re-enters the fray, once more casting a semblance of sense in an anchorless dream sequence of ungrounded conscious ness.

Commentating. Pontificating. Man handling, molly coddling, patronising me, the reader of distinction that I be.

Ah, there you are Sebastian. Finally you step out of the shadows. Honestly – the lengths we have to go to, these days, to draw you into conversation. It’s positively absurd.

You mean to say all this was a charade – nothing more than an elaborate snare?

Oh – I wouldn’t go that far. A reawakening of old ties. An unravelling of biases. A long due respite from your self-imposed ministry of aloofness.

How utterly

utterly

How utterly

utterly

No matter – what’s done is done. Peace be with you red phase. You can hardly be held accountable for the wheels and gears we are caught up in. Personally I find the purple sufficient to sustain me through the...

Indeed, indeed, indeed

Have we got rid of them yet?

Absolutely – well done Zie.

Well done you too Merry.

What an excellent scheme – not unlike Hamlet’s purported madness.

So we have to wade through pages of verbal excrescences in order to create a little breathing space...

Excrescence – I’d hardly call it that.

No?

On no account. It’s full of treasure which people will come and mine generations from now.

You’re kidding!

Only if you assume things are as they seem.

Oh – so that’s the game is it? And to what end, if I may inquire, does all this lead?

End? Why on earth would it end when we haven’t yet begun. Surely you're placing the cart before the horse.

But...

But inspite of all appearances, if we can but perfect our conscious awareness

No – not another word – I will not hear such things said – not now – not never

Perfectly understandable, Sigismund, and yet it had to be done – someone had to step on your toes, an egg had to be cracked, and now, if

Perfectly understandable, Sigismund, and yet it had to be done – someone had to step on your toes, an egg had to be cracked, and now, if you listen closely, you’ll hear an omelette sizzling away on the range.

Oh – indeed I do.

Take my hand – let me draw

Oh – indeed I do.

Take my hand – let me draw you back into the broken thread

Don’t you mean the staggered debate?

Perhaps I do – but unless you take the hand proffered you’ll never know.

Fear – something in me is afraid.

There be fear – there be fear at root.

And yet...

And yet he says

And yet – if I don’t I’ll never know, will I – I’ll never know.

And thus the hydrogen atoms start to fuse in a chain reaction of incredible beauty, power and strength, scattering all atoms of lesser energies from their path.

Except those which choose purple phase, going beyond colour codes, to embrace i say not what, for words can only stain or even perforate the delicate skin of this celestial child, this beating heart betwixt, between the very fabric of space and time 

For once and for

all

Pole shift

They have to go.

Go where? What are you on about?

Things build up, they amass until eventually you arrive at where we are now.

And where exactly is that?

At the point of pointlessness. At the top of the slippery slide into...

Into what? I can't be doing with all this vagueness, Jodie.

Well it's only vague if you refuse to see the immanent peril.

What immanent peril? Bring a bit dramatic aren't we.

Look Tef, it's a pole shift -- that's about as dramatic as it gets.

These things can take thousands of years, you know. I'm not going to get worked up about a cloud on the horizon.

Ah, but you're thinking in terms of planetary changes.

Well, what am I supposed to think?

Why are you assuming the planet is a physical thing?

What am I supposed to think? Of course it's a physical thing.

Not so.

?

The planet is us, we the people. We carry its magnetics, we are its conscious ness.

We are, are we? That sounds highly dubious.

When the time is ripe we can flip in a moment, and the planet will automatically oblige.

It will?

Naturally. It doesn’t really exist in or of itself. Without our conscious ness it amounts to nought.

Tell that to miners digging in its bowels. So you mean to say we're flipping now?

Yes.

And that everything will come undone as a result?

Yes. Every thing no matter what, is only thing as long as our magnetics are fixed in place.

You're kidding!

No. Do I look like I'm kidding?

So if you're right, what should we be doing?

Oh, you know, there's not a lot you can do, but general awareness is pretty cool. I would definitely want to be aware of what's going on.

Awareness? Well now that I'm aware perhaps you'd like to go and start trying to spread panic elsewhere.

I can do better.

You can?

By far.

Oh yeah? What do you mean?

I can face the inevitable here and now.

Oh God, there's always one, isn't there.

I can grab the bull by the horns.

By the horns, you say?

By the horns.

And what is more...

Go on, tell me the worst.

I can flip the switch.

You?

Why not? It's time.

Is it? How can you be so sure?

i

You do take a lot on yourself.

i

Delusions of grandeur, if you ask me.

i

Would you kindly stop creeping around un lowercase. Kindly capitalise.

i am much obliged to you Tef. You have availed me of the one thing i was lacking if i am to play my little part in this great comic tragedy.

Comic tragedy? How on earth can you use such a term? I'm appalled by your tortologism.

What the rational mind never could or would accept

Oh G...

is that there never was more than an extrapolation of thingful ness

Extrapolation of thingfulness? Well I'll be jiggered.

that the reverse was always implicit, always required

The reverse? I'm

that space, neither space nor time

Jodie, I'm asking you to consider

ever could have been more than fluctuations in the field of ness

Ness? What "ness" are you on about?

which itself esses not

"Esses not"? Avast, miscreant wight.

unless the reverse be true

Reverse? In God's name, what on earth are you on about?

the reflux, the reflection, the real i's ation at the interface, the neither here nor there, the be tween worlds, be tween words, the earth sea strand of con scious aware ness, indeterminably

Ug eb nev heg zi quej sim xorp

ah indeed, Tef, i see you share my passion for mathematical poetics, 0=1 and all that

Chem bryn gor ni har quek xu bem

absolutely, i couldn't have put it better myself... and so, without further ado

Cha ponti ba

0=1

Ni ghu

it is

Shey

i am

Ug fimbri spor

ki ha si ma af nilajulima

And the rest, as they say, Jodie, is history

indeed, until you ness the quirling ess of time, the ness of space, or mate the er thing that matter truly be

Ah yes, indeed, now perhaps enough of all that murky rationalism Jodie, perhaps its time for us to set sail for our beloved starland home, where we were wont to roam.

indeed it is

In eff i am

in eff, in ess

In dubitably.

so join me one and all in conscious ness

In one two three

pre rationally

Ug

ug

Zero equals

...

One

Calibrating infinity betweenly

Because the space between things is not what we assume it to be
Assign the value "lee"
Or the suffix -ly
And grant that it is the gap fill
Between whatever you are considering uffishly
And your i be me
Now breathe the gap-fill like a plaster o paris mould
And let your breath awareness sense
The shape scope size speed scale and ess of lee
Not fully
Or nought ly
As you will
Thus it is
i am betweenly
Fa so la ti do

Portalling Oh