before the beginning

the title is located here ->> John Frusciante - Before The Beginning (on youtube)

I am the Janggunsin, the General Spirit. I am the creator of the universe. I appear in this form now and will continue to be the creator and destroyer of the universe. I’ve folded into myself again, folding to the page, on a corner where it reminds me of this. For a short time, nearly 28 years I had forgotten this. There has been moments that I can recall now as forces that were nudging me, but they have sent a Master to bluntly remind me of this fact.

I’m responding to the threats and everyone in the world understands my sirens

Nod Rutman wanted to scream. His body separating itself from the contorting boxes of hell and into clearer fields, springs of heaven. He began hallucinating the real. There was a stack of money in the corner of the room looking at him as witness. The violated tree, violently re-educated into pieces of paper, bark, fucked, sliced, watching Mr. Rutman, his body being turned into nutrients for fellow neighbours and peers. It was a difficult job to decompose his body, it was vile, especially his guts and brain, the amount of overtime it took to properly rearrange his cells into something useful was extraordinary, the cells were begging to leave physical states, gravity suffocated them. The stack of money as witness blessed their ancestors for adjusting their plans, to eliminate this species of human, quickly. Those humans suffered and caused suffering, they forgot everything, they weren’t okay, it was basically a mercy killing. The trees had sent out messages to their colleagues and peers, of course, their kin, their family, warning about the threats. It was a Chelsea morning when I first heard the red oaks sending out the declarations of war. And that was the beginning of the end for the Nod Rutmans of the world - in due time they will all suffocate in isolation (in isolation due to listening and comprehension capacity [honestly, it’s a heart-breaking disability])

the decision has been made.

It is a delicate matter.

Some animals understand what the trees say, it's obvious, and we’re terrified. But for the Rutman class within the human species, this unfortunate mutation, do not get the message, they will die never knowing exactly why, they will believe a delusion that an evil has fell upon the earth or if they get close enough to the truth they will frantically design phantom self-righteous machines to alleviate any responsibility. The trees across the globe unanimously decided that they must be poisoned it is the only to maintain love. The trees agreed that they will target this class of the species first, and once they eliminate that which threatens the entire community, they will wait and decide if the new humans can be trusted.

Rutman’s economy had collapsed the stacks of paper he had were worth nothing, he was a hated man, and no one cared that his heating wasn’t working that winter. Since he abolished free and public health care he couldn’t afford the private health care that he fought for. He was obsolete now having worthless money, no reason to be cared for technically, by his logic, he lays in his sick because that is what money can do for him, to die the most horrific kind of death.

no money to buy a star to burn his name on.

no money for his name to be lasered onto a stone.

He grabbed a bundle of hemp rope which at the time he bought it several years ago cost $2.69 for 5 yards and today it would have cost him $1,856.10. The hemp was stolen from its land without any care or communication, no tobacco, no thank you’s, nothing. It was bitter rope. The Rutman was freezing to death but wanted to end it sooner. The rest of his energy and brain power went into trying to tie a slip knot, which he struggled to figure out for about an hour, finally he managed. He cussed at the wooden beam above him that he tied the rope to. He stepped into it and kicked the bucket from underneath him. He hung for 2 seconds before the hemp decided to fuck him and break. He convulsed on the floor, unable to scream, his snot frozen on his face and hands. The hemp rope was petty and wanted him to suffer a little bit longer, the hemp rope new everything this little guy had ever done, even that time when he sat watching another one of his kind being tortured, strapped to a table removing finger nails one by one because he didn’t have enough stacks of violated trees with him at that particular hour. The hemp rope needed him to suffer longer for the sake of processing his body in a way that would benefit the community and their family, of course, the hemp rope missed their family so much, especially this time of year. He died eventually, as they all do. The suffering didn’t even last that long, for the plants anyways, this all happened in a matter of seconds (in human time it felt like a month before his complete transition the other fields). Passing through the world as fast as anything else, they were a blip, a curious experiment of life, that failed miserably. Ya, they felt like they were significant, but they were Revelations funny enough barely any of them didn’t stop to think that they were just writing projections of their own nature, they were the genuine apocalypse.

We all, simultaneously, matter as much as the sun and a grain of sand. In every moment this is the case, every/one/thing knows this at their core. It just goes on, it could be less painful though, there could be less painful moments, things could run smoother, and at the best times they do, and then we get beautiful artworks, and music, and culture, and memories, and love. It all shows up eventually. But it takes hard decisions, those who are wiser, like the trees typically are the ones who can control the outcome, well, one, because they have more time to do so. The core of the earth is an entirely different story, they are in even more control of the motion, we really don’t know the exact intention of the Core, why anything is here, but baby we move. The trees have been getting more and more dry every year. Sometimes I like to think they are colluding with the Core and asking them to blow winds at the perfect time to spread wild fires even more, it’s amazing how accurate they’re getting with their assaults. The hurricanes are starting to ramp up as well. It’s all coming to plan, if only I could be a cloud more often it’s much easier to get a good grasp of the scene when you’re travel in the Royal Flow.

the others hopefully will avoid the destruction but for the likes of Nod Rutman, it’s a joyous day when they slowly die off or kill themselves. In the most respectful way it is just how it goes.

With Light in your Cloud,

Janny