>ends>the>world|The period which comes after pi.
I finally figured out why my camera was not able to capture a true image of the merkabas that me and my mom witnessed with our eyes, these stellated tesseract things that look a little like so:
[link to img11.deviantart.net]
the pictures my iphone camera takes make the image come out like a flattened crappy platforming sidescroller once beloved by nintendo fans , but it’s not super mario, its a hyperdimensional object recorded by a three-dimensional lens, digitally represented by a code which is going
So ultimately, the lens flattens out what my eyes see and consiquently it’ll look like like everything I have ever digitally recorded or shown anybody
( hence: [link to cybercosmopolitan.wordpress.com (secure)] )
^^^it don’t look like a merkaba there, but I promise its not actually an orb !!
If those constructs, ie things I saw all those times transcending time space boundary in dark matter shells, if they were actually present in more then three dimensions,
if they were legitimately hyperdimensional as I am certain that they were,
there is no way that my iphone camera lens, which is programmed to record a three-dimensional image, would be able to faithfully render an image of something which existed in more then three dimensions at once.
Perhaps you could draw it in less dimensions then 4+, but only by referencing a depiction, even an illusion, of a hyperdimensional image.
That is why the human brain is neato
, we can contrive a way to get around sensory limitations, the same limitation that causes optical illusions may cause optical disillusionment.
[ that’s the irony of the eternally broken unflaw that fixes everything
Eye don’t know if I call it a name or eyem called it by the name I can’t remember forgetting which eye certainly know I once knew
(in a parallel stream theres this paradox box
either the alive nor dead coherence state of that cat which is saved-while-it-dies in a thousand thought experiments per day , I don’t ask that cat, but the timelord who owns it
I think – Schrodinger –
also told me that the name is probably real as recalled [albiet, incorrectly].) ]
but the lens would distort it and corrupt it [the merkaba in the sky, plural] because the codec running the app rendering an image captured by the lens, it has no reference for handling impossible objects like this one
[ they turned out to be less impossible then initially expected, oops. ]
The codec of the phones lens has no context for rendering a hyperdimensional object so it would show up as something, while still impossible, not faithfully recognizably hyperdimensional.
[ so like… a stupid ball of super dense light which appears in places where nothing actually is in place of the hyperdimensional something which is in many places but in dimensions that people don’t usually see, because these dimensions are the nested shadows of invisible worlds where unbroken circles braid implosively separating the magnetism of torus fields of simultaneous force,
undiscribed by the non-mniscience of the blind eyed tribe ]
[ like visual artifacts rendering a broken overworld in some badly coded 3d game running direct x -2d-land
on a the dubious disgraces of badly designed computational…simutool…….peeple.collider…..toplap contriver….personal disputer or whatever ]
So of course, the pictures and video of the merkabas I have seen leave out crucial sensory components of the live object I witnessed.
It bothered me, for awhile immediately afterwards, as late as 2012 gets is when it occurred iirc… and I eventually (a month or two later, out of nowhere) barfed out this picture
which was a far more accurate depiction of the hyperdimensional…
[…thingy i did not yet know to say was that:
[ not that I was even aware of that fleshy a description
it seemed to find any kind of life on that grubby page because it no longer could bear groping in the unconscious cloisters of wherever impossible things go when they have occurred in a reality which lives under da shadow Denali, da nile of the cave…of…denderah…or plato or something ]
what I know, or strongly suspect, the facts will confirm, is this:
there is an undoubtedly autistic and yet quiescently informed part of your mind, which inhabits your brain in some discrete measurable sense but nowhere in particular, and it, knows things it can’t tell the waking half, since it makes sense of nonsense yet turns into nonsense all sense. oops…
[ that is they kind of nothing theyd burn the corona of absolute zero into your mind like a black hole volcano, but what do you get inverting what’s not?]
this part of your brain
it never says anything remotely intelligible and even when it manages to whisper something, you will inevitably experience a rational delusion that is false yet better explains it .
always, a false and convincing substitute will prevent you from interpreting the nozone of you which tries to say infinity towards your Is.
Sadly you will – confidently, and erroneously, misattribute this whisper of umptiness,
to a perpetually probable cause that is always remembered but which you never actually experience having done, presently.
it seems like, you just finished doing it or … you were just about to.
[ In other words its no more real then the spagetti demon yet more likely then sunrise.
somehow it always manages to abuse your usefully sensible and evolutionarily advantageous preference for consistent and probable explanations for things…. ]
if you know how to communicate with this part,
it could only lamely draw you all sorts of ugly ink blots
that your conscious mind rejects so completely they appear totally invisble
but, actually, they are
pictures of a place where time is simultaneously groping towards a handhold to grasp climbing at all things at once while freefall into all of it colliding into everywhere, here.
[ if only you could climb the treacherous m[oun]t.ain everything-at-the-same-time valley descent without falling off all the sideways sometimes. ]
the silent inaccessible part of yourself is like a hand trying to tell you how to hold onto an electron with both pinky fingers but you can’t ever touch it, hmm.
you can’t hold everything in the fractal infinty void of total potentium as you detach from holding it at the same time, you couldn’t even imagine doing this, it never was anything and everything that ever was.
[ so the autistic and incomprehensibly supernatural aspect of you-ness just blubbers silent appeals to a dreamworld that always makes comfortable nonsense …..but never sensibly ]
consciousness with consistently ineffectual visions of a splendor you know to be impossible within the confines of peer-sanctioned rationality
[ which is derived of the clockwork infinity that always is in some stage of breaking insignificant illusions painfully in a way that at least you can consistently predict although it is unnecessary and a source of great anxiety for you to consider doing so ]
^^^so you say the world sucks.
tries to communicate
in this weird nonsensespace of your brain
and instead it just blurps weird artifacts into incorrectly proportioned negative space and gets crumbled up and thrown away with the other stupid things you thought up in the stupor of some uninvited ecstacy
//once more the codec crashes but the codec is visionofgrandeur.unrecognizedfiletype
so it crashes your eyes and your brain dumps it to the underworld of experiences|
where it can peacably fail to be comprehended
[ as it desperately attempts to communicate by directly contradicting all the fundamental attributes of successful communication and moreover, it does that unsuccessfully. oops… ]
so I guess….sometimes when you stop trying to do something
nothingness shows you what already was…n’t
one does not *simply* “draw the void”
the void *draws itself* drawing *you drawing it *while it is dra*wing y*o*u*
[link to cybercosmopolitan.files.wordpress.com (secure)]
the void said the paradox only stops at the beginning and the end of existence
the clock always stops before it ever began.
[ you will never know that, but if you are very lucky you might unlearn it ]
I mean///,…\\\ if that fragment could be proportionally self-recursive in a syntonic \ unpredictable recurrant enclosure of proportionally syncopated/ endlessly intricate ultima…|
&then magnified exponentially^^^ to an imaginary power that is real only at the border between universes the maybe….
nope. fur get it.