Genie, Aquarium of theresolutionofduality

Thepricelesswealthof themind

Illustration, a vision:
top view; bath-bubble froth bottom view; 1. foam layers

Visions in their many forms bring a wealth of understanding only to the analytical mind seeking into the shadows left behind, the pieces of the puzzle it is mean to represent. So often, and at the most unexpected moments, a transparent glass slots its appearance over the material reality. And, by a play of light, if only as a bathroom bulb burning at that moment, appears the reflection of a virtual reality to superimpose upon the material world. A world that interchanges and leaves me perplexed for years the motion picture burned into my mind of that moment.

My daughter had spent every moment of the day playing with her mother. Exhausted, I dried and dressed her for bed time, 3. graphite viscosity and driver through the then returned to the bathtub where moments before she thought of toroidal tube herself that dolphin in a pool before spectators. The floor was wet, 4. the black hole drain and the bubble-bath attenuating its froth. Taking a moment of deserved solitude, I bent over to pull the plug, rose, and watched the foam sucked away towards the drain, when the glazed reflection metamorphosed into an extra dimension, dissimulating the reality with a god's-eye view of the universe in motion. Clear minded about the existential resolution-of-duality, having experienced more than I care to remember, I didn't launch myself on the hunt for an explanation, or try to fit the piece in any context. I was aware that Time will speak to me and I was bound to decode the message.
2. wings of foam motion in the bath water

I was left at the mercy of my soul, the spirit-of-sight leaving my face, and rolling my view into the universe. A view from outside an aquarium glass, close to the universe that lies on a crude-oil viscosity, and graphite in texture and color. The residues of burned-out galaxies after a galactic fireworks. A showdown of dark burned-out flint clouds dusting a virtual water glaze. Gradually sinking through the water to accumulate in the bottom scoop, lying at the bottom of an Atomium sphere which by gravity sweeps toward the drain of one of the eight connecting pipes... more commonly known as Black Holes. It is common for the vision to disintegrate without realizing it at the moment, then all returning to order.
The writer expresses an esoteric detailed chronology of psychic experiences, through the thread of a down to earth story on how the mind functions. He is committed to improving readability and understanding of such a controversial subject that is a lifetime thesis to show the interactive shadow of the living against a background of immaterial with the aim to reach the 7 to 77 old.

Left baffled, I turned away, absently re-visioning in mind, heading for my laptop to record with a date stamp the smallest detail so it would not escape me until supplemented and introduced into the context of a scientific continuity.

RatherthanMultiverse,centered galacticbubbles
I emerged in an existential cognitive moment, standing by a wall that didn't appear so strange. It is that sense of a vision-experience towards these layers, in rows and columns of warped plasticine balloons. Thought-Bubbles1 so named by the evolutive Ping-Pong balls at the moment that the universe was in a state of static. I stood by, as it appeared as much a task to shortcut a penetration as it was for medieval masons to build these stones foundations and superstructure for a master's castle. After some consideration, I moved off finding a way around this mass. A while later, gliding in flight as spirits travel aware of the physique that made the difference, of not having that drag. I turned the corner. Then, along the length sought a soft spot to make my entry. I slipped through with a physical aptitude, widening the joints while the mass of balloons squeezed out of my way. Moments later I emerged into a clearing, overlooking from a raise mezzanine the atrium of what can be a modern glass tower. There I was, high above the lobby floor, packed a few sizes smaller than the mass of balloons in the wall, and a few measures closer than the froth in the bathtub, supposedly to have a perspective between two dimensions to details that otherwise escape to be seen. To no will of mine, I glided off, over what appeared as widespread transparent marbles. Dissolving in flight, I was left with the images branded into my mind, whilst
1 In time the link to the amazing vision of thinking bubbles will be introduced here.

too far and moving off to focus on individual bubbles. What they had in common, was in the middle the bright sparkling star with a colorful whirl of a galaxy in formation.

Lifeisthesumofevolution,ofadominoeffectlabyrinth
With due respect for each person's believe, I expect a reciprocal respected for my work, which is not meant to impose a believe but as another way to think.

At the center of the infinite black is the focal flaw; a dynamic flaw in the engineered perfection of an infinity of pitch black. There in the center of a universe in a state of stasis, dormant until the breaking of that infinity-hairline; an axis. What ensued were the slow-motion slings of glittering swords emanating god's spark of stroking metal. When the red axis is broken, the ends were left dangling and spitting out the sparks from an electric current. Loose ends to turn toward each other, forked into a sub-grade blue and green ray in the weakest cardinal axes at right angles, with a predefined firing sequence amongst themselves, which is represented by colored pencils. The colored leads are the dynamic force in the broken-off axis. The wood is the thermodynamics space and the coated paint the plasmic luminescent film with the soap-bubble effect. While the dynamics of the axes develop tunes, the dynamic colors of the colliding six-pointed axes are consumed by the white flash and god at the center of the flaw. A godly luminescent chemistry consuming colors; without a flaw there isn't dynamics, and without dynamics there isn't existence. God is existential at the middle of the imperfection that changed the universe. In a jump of time to the intellectual cell, the thermodynamic axes are the principal communication tubes, and at the center of the luminescent spark are the cardinal black whiskers of a lair, the feelers going out reaching blindly in the proximity to find a mate. It is in my mind the flint from the ball of a sparkling firework of an idea. The white luminescent flash is the god blowing an exploding chemistry of shrapnel, extending its power through the gaps in the ball at intermediate angles and fetching the auxiliary axes, intercepting adjacent magnetic fields, in the making of the rotating motor to free

the channeling light with holographic mental appearances; telepathy. God is mapped in the middle of the binary sphere-cube in every one of a universal battery as the ninth ball. Located in a 2D plane, their meeting point is the ignition within a magnetic armature. Given the code from the pips on the face of a die, the trains of current-bars circulating inside the colored tube and entering Illustration: station, are deflected to cause the ball to rotate The 2D ignition and magnetic one notch out of the six for a full cycle, bringing rotation point are a calculated chaos of reflection, calculated by interconnected and the domino effect on its surrounding six slaves. represented in a 3D system by Spheres, balls, cells; it's only a matter of the piece of jewelery; the firing dimension. God's flaw is intellectual and chaotic, escaping into its vicinity, while a crucial labyrinth of clouds of multicellular monsters, in number branded brief messages for spores, and another into plant monsters.

idea of intellectual properties of every living cell.

The genie of the tree-of-life is the fundamental flaw after eons of evolution; the spark at the middle of the bubble as the mind recalls the anamorphic crystallized reflections from the windsock vans. And through the tubes in the shadow of the colored pencils, light reactivates the crystals; crystals reflecting the incoming holographic image which starts by the triggering spark in the middle. By the parsec-ray and gradually in the shadow of the tree-of-life, the moving image blows the ethereal smoke of light to fill the brain, returning memories, or a current telepathic image. The tree is a mere fundamental structure of a narcissistic reflection of the soul, with the immaterial existence in the arc of parallax that is outlined by its physical presence on an earthy spinning top. The person going about a daily life, under a wide open sky, where the occasional fleecy clouds float without knowing boundaries, is an image that comes to mind that everyone thinks (as oneself) alike. Yet at a ground level short-sighted, reinforces the belief of a godly 'Yes' nod for what is not understood, a 'No' nod for anything invasive. When we close our eyes in the dark night, the world out there is a memory, and with it vanishes a reality that the god is ourselves, and left alone to our fate, in our little bubble with ourself at the center of a black splash of ink in which the skyline vanished. God is the flaw, and lightning is the domino-effect of evolution, which strikes and splits the wood of the tree in anger. Yet, there is no anger in the fall of domino pieces, only the stroke of a sequence, which traces the evolutionary path. The path is left behind, to show the fallen pieces and tracing origins. Destiny is left to numerology, for the plausible forked and six-directional proliferation, of which the mind inherits the current level of achievements and is mighty frightening.