B88 … does love really bind this universe as one…in the folds of all matter?

The Beast and The Beauty

The chance that life would get back to normal, a new normal, similar, was an illusion. They knew it and in your hearts you knew it too. There was nothing going to be the same as it once was. Doors had opened and there was nothing that was going to turn it around, go back, close the doors, seal up the cracks and force everything that escaped out into the light to forget what was now embedded into the new brains of humanity, virtual, real, organic or robotic. Not going to happen. These changes are so vast, they may be talked about in detail for centuries, they may have set off a stampede of change that will never be understood with absolute understanding. Possibly the poets of the future will disentangle the truth of the matter with words that pierce sharp to the heart but wander off in vague clouds thru fine lines shaped into bitter decisions as poets often do. Who knows is nobodies guess.

The ‘great deception’ will hang in the museums for millenniums as evidence for ‘the last transformation’ of humanity, the ‘humpty dumpty’ of the 21st century.

Curbs of water ways a metre high

I walk down the streets of Campeche, the historic city of the Yucatan Gulf Coast. Curbs of water ways a metre high down cobble stone beds of centuries of memories embedded into streets. Words just flow out and over the cracked stone of archaic spirits assembling in the night air as i tread upon the web of memory that entangles the people, the wild ones, the earth, and the sacred waters of time. I am a witness of existence for a moment or two then the water ways of the mind fade into the darkness to where they lay silent once more for another soft observers eyes.

The wars fought here on this ground. The great sorrow and the wretched, sordid, mucky minds that shaped these canals into a future that now tends to forget the details, the horror of it all……….war, so praised, now hangs in the halls of museums and is now the entertainment of tourists of our day. This is the way of humanity, once love is forgot and a more prosperous deception as hatred persists, war surrounds the mind. Such is the life and death of man as the collective mind unfolds through the canals of time.

There is love in the air remembered in the petals of the flowers blooming in the streets, in the fields, the jungles and even the minds strewn across the globe. I am in this love some times.

There is no lock down here as back home in Ontario, Quebec and stretching across the nation of Canada. The madness persists, conclusions warping the trend, the fight between this side and that, these details and those, deception and honesty. The people are divided, real debates are hidden within the fears of death and truth sits camouflaged with broken facts and obscure intelligence. It’s a mess and the night is closing in.

Kachi Pondering on the Chess Board of Life

Day breaks into a heavy sun bright and free. Kachi is lonesome, i can tell. She is tired of the hot days in the car and no great adventures like the BC forests and the cold fresh waters upon its land. We decided to move on from here to Progresso in the Yucatan, booked a B&B for three nights on the beach to get our heads around the possibilities that face us.

We arrived to a quaint little apartment a few miles from Progresso. There are a few other guests, a couple from Hungary, the owners are British and have lived here for ten years. Chelem is a small fishing village with nothing much other than a few stores and lots of small fishing vessels.

After talking with Mila the Hungarian young woman we learned that in Hungary hardly anyone wears a mask anymore. She feels as us that there are tons of opinions based on little truths and many lies intermixed to a structured media-brew for the masses. Everybody is truly confused whether they want to believe it or not. The owner here, Tony, seems unconcerned about masks. That’s all i know, for now.

The first morning here quiet and thoughtful. Went for an early morning swim in the gulf, ran, exercised, felt the energy of the space upon my face, the mind went quiet for a time, there was an attraction laying out its tentacles; something was right.

Another Splash of Puddle Art

We went to see the town a couple of miles down the road and an adventure of looking for a longer term home began. We met a few locos that showed us a few places, either too small, decrepit or to huge and glamorous but we were set on the right track. Accidentally found a cool cafe and our first gringos we happened to meet whom were having breakfast, were from a little town north of Qualican Beach which is an hour north of our home in BC. The Mexican Hombre owner of the restaurant taught at the Quelph University my home area in Ontario. We were surprised to find a cool cafe let alone people from our past spaces. Magnetics of the heart, i suppose, connecting. We gathered lots of info concerning rental prices and other data of interest for expats attempting to smooth out the edges of fitting in somewhere here.

There is too much to be said concerning the many things that happens in a day to a mind travelling new territory that questions too much and can never say enough. That’s me, not unlike many of us questionable humans.

Night time came quick today. It was a good day. Hardly any covid news and just about ready to tune into the data from around the world via my trusted sources, and i don’t trust much and that is exactly the type of mind i trust, those are my preferred sources, those that don’t know more than they do.

The Zocalo in Campeche

It appears to me that the masses that continue to follow the planned narrative will stay stuck until they realize that the multi conglomerate pharma industries are not their friends along with all the other super rich industrial giant minds. The main stream media is now owned by them and their news is simply propaganda to continue your views parallel to execute their plans. Until such time there will continue to be a war between the heart and the mind, the conscious and the structured, the slaves and the freedom warriors. I am unsure of my purpose here but it is not to lay out the facts to prove these thoughts, there are plenty of slicker minds than mine that are exposing data and varifiable facts that convey these opinions, to show in detail how humanity has been manipulated strategically to a very foul end. I will leave it that. There is so much arising in the minds of the fighters with thousands of hours of videos and literature exposing these truths. It is up to the individual if you really want to know what’s happening or just be a part  of the foul narrative. Humanity is waking up, humanity is falling asleep. This is not my problem, my mission, my job.

Scenes along the Streets of Campeche

We here, Sasha, Kachi and I are looking for a place to lay our weary heads for a few months and take it from there. I will say this one last concept on this topic, the reality of what is really happening is so far out of reach of most of us that eternity seems like a minute in a month of this world.

Man is not a free thinker, a free thinker does not think, but allows thought to think itself out, freely. The controller of thought is the thinker caught in a prison of his own making. Us mind travellers weave in and out of this plane, but we are all caught to a degree.

Krazy Kachi Reflected En Mexico

We found a place month by month, on the beach, modest and the cheapest we could find……this shall do. We have been putting up with constant hammering from the next door construction for the last week, morning till night. Tomorrow, Sunday, the Sabath, the day of rest, and we’ll be gone.

Such is life, noice, light, mind pollution, there is no place to hide, micro-tech is everywhere, in everything, gmo humans walking with the dead and flourishing…….‘what can ever stop this wheel from excelerating out of control’ is the question of the millenniums…….does love really bind this universe as one, in the folds of all matter or is this simply just another illusion?

.

.

Sometimes, i have to admit, it just seems to tear too sharp along the sentiments of my heart, all this madness, everywhere, better to punctuate an end with a last period. Sadness too heavy to hold, loneliness so far from home, no purpose worth a moment, kick the last can down the street and call it quits…………….so far, this air has blown thru my mind, one day, it may not.
Things change, the mind moves and before you know it there is light against the walls.

Streets Upside-down Exploding in Beauty

.

.

images and writing by patrick wey

9 thoughts on “B88 … does love really bind this universe as one…in the folds of all matter?

  1. Hey Patrick, I waited for the Sabbath to read your blog as a Resting Place for my weary mind trying to make sense (such a foolish endeavour) of all the twists and turns in this Covid drama. Thanks for the images of/from Mexico; of Kachi being Kachi and the honest words of your minds’ wanderings. Mari and I are going to Ottawa next week in our little camper van to set up a mobile first aid clinic, in support of the truckers protesting the totalitarian madness of vaccine mandates. The house of cards is falling in some places in the world; in Canada we have a jokerman in Ottawa, a manipulator of crowds, a dream twister and we’re going to Sodom and Gomorrah to see if we can change the nightingale’s tune (with respect to Dylan). Would be nice to have a lunch at the Viet-Thai restaurant that we haunted some years back; I believe our ghosts are still lingering there trying to pick up the thread of some conversation about the thinking/non-thinking mode of Being/existence and your ghost made the point that the universe is actually a black hole within our heart, sucking up all the love and spitting it back out as experience (or was it the other way around?). Which is just to say I miss you Patrick and someday soon…….Francesco

    • Hi, good luck in Ottawa. I am sure your doctoring will come in very handy. That’s a great thing to do, wish i could be there with you. The last track across Canada similar, that i know of, was Vern Harper and the Caravan of 1974. I fasted for two days (no food, no water) with others on the green pastures out front of the Parliament Buildings in honour of the Caravan, in i believe 1994. They changed the way people saw the Natives of Canada and eventually the indigenous of the world. Possibly this fantastic convoy will eventually eliminate the super rich from the face of existence on this planet from the need of man….thanks for your comments.

  2. Hi Patrick
    Hey thanks a lot for last blog I’m enjoying it but I’m not quite finished it yet….. You’ve got an interesting mind Patrick I’m actually interested and intrigued by where all of that stuff comes from!? It actually reminds me of a steady stream of Consciousness that never stops?
    Maybe that’s a good way of
    getting it off your mind?
    Maybe that’s what poetry is
    Like With assistance from perspectives born of the sensual Curiosities of our minds?? What ever?

    Up here it feels like spring has sprung where many buds have developed on some of the trees and bushes.
    It would be well if that Awakening was more prevalent among human beings on the planet because it seems as Saratoga ocean has mentioned in her second video 2022 may b the last chance to turn this whole thing around before we slip into the clutches of the dark ones and their so called AI Meta Verse!!??
    We’ll see?????????❤
    Much love and light
    Leo

  3. The light is again against the walls of this tiny home of mine in beautiful BC. What’s happening in the world I do not know, nor do I care. So far the road kicks back as good as I can give it. Everything seems the shame around here. Worlds worries in the eyes above the masked ones. I just wander along in wonder of where the worlds gone. Then to the forest I go. Mothers still there asleep , upon the moss under the elder cedar. I’ll sit and wait it out until my bum gets too cold. Home, then. Quiet, alone, even the bells no longer ring. That’s ok too. I miss you, no matter where you are and will be here when the world wakes. I hope to find you still in it, somewhere south of here. With love and appreciation. Kisses to Sasha and a roll in the sand with the pup. Still the future is the mystery even with this present open on my lap. Love you dear one. See you soon.

    • Always nice to hear from you. Glad that some light is splashing up against your walls, that makes the walk a little simpler. Hope your health is feeling fine. We shall meet again just up ahead around that purple bend. Thanks for always commenting, it means much.

  4. Love that binds comes from within. It’s strength is in spirituality and comes from that quiet and peaceful place one finds with the creator. As I travel through my day I keep in touch with that quiet, peaceful place and I give this warm glowing feeling of kindness, gratitude and generosity to anyone who I meet along my path. This is all I can do in this world we live in and I try not to expect anything in return. This is the path that I must walk to reach my creator at the end of my path (which is really the beginning) and have everlasting life in the arms of my creator filled with joy forever and ever. After this life is over, I believe the pain will end. Until then I must walk the path.

  5. While I and my family were under the grips if covid, now all healed and strong again, I had feelings of hopelessness and no ambition to do anything. Total empty and void of motivation or action. This comes from a hopeless world that offers no future. At the end we will return to dust. My Faith in Jesus is hope for a future that will be eternal. That’s what gets me through any all all circumstances. This world is temporary and controlled by evil. It will not last. The new world that is promised will be perfect.

    • Thanks, you always are close by…..glad you made it thru that hopelessness time and that cellular disease….it’s a strange world and what ever gets you thru in an honourble way is the way a way a good way. thanks for your comments

Leave a Reply to Mike Klein Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.