They had rivers
by Jon Rappoport
August 12, 2016
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)
“I have had experiences with forgotten or imagined languages. They provoke rather than explain. They immediately impart sensations—for example, of flying. At one point, in my studio, I was painting characters from these languages on large pieces of cardboard. The characters spoke to me.” (The Magician Awakes, Jon Rappoport)
They had rivers. They had mountains. They had cities and gold and the things men strove for all along, before the Blank Period, when time stopped and memory faded, when some sort of attack occurred—if that was, in fact, what happened. No one knew. But they emerged on the other side with a different language, a different kind of language. It connected with itself on so many levels, it was impossible to map. The petty little obsessed sentences were all gone, or they been absorbed in other organic structures.
The language they were now speaking penetrated every object in the landscape. It didn’t ask for meaning or analysis. It didn’t ask for opinion. What opinion should be forwarded about shadow and light? A few lines of speech were enough to lift a person off the ground. Was this philosophy? Spiritual teaching? There was no teaching. Everyone who remained was imbued with words and sentences that acted for themselves.
People knew how to speak in a way that caused them to fly. There was no need for hope or information.
Over the door of a small shop in a town a few miles from the city, there was a sign: I WILL BE BOUGHT AND I WILL BE SOLD. The shopkeeper, who was entirely without products on his shelves, told people who asked: “This sentence is past history, all of it.” It rained stars at night, and the world was destroyed, and in the morning the world was back again.
When a person spoke a feeling, it tended to move out into the air and float, and it might join the air. What existed was being updated.
People sometimes felt they were moving into the past, and sometimes the future.
Words spoken could also, now and then, pulse outward and make a hole in the sky. Another sky behind it would reveal itself. This had a performance aspect.
In the city, the great machines that underlay structures continued to run. Most people said the machines were weeping. But not with sadness or joy. This weeping was considered a reaction to a mystery, which went unexplained.
The people assumed they were now living in an age of magic.
If you could fly a thousand feet above the ground, that was surely some kind of magic, and if you could fly a thousand miles above the Earth, you were unhooked and alone as no one had ever been alone, and in this state both freedom and power blossomed to a wild degree.
There were words to describe this state, but they tended to provoke the experience rather than characterize it.
One day, a man spontaneously traveled so far into the past he arrived at a place called the United States of America, and he found himself in an office sitting across from a government leader, who said, “We want to know how you do it.”
The man picked up on the peculiar United States language and answered, “There is no how. It happens.”
To which the leader replied, “We don’t believe that. We could keep you here.”
“I doubt that,” the man said.
“Then we could kill you,” the government leader said.
“Perhaps,” the man said, “but we survive death.”
The man marveled at this strange language he was now speaking. It was so definite and bounded. It was an interesting tool.
The leader was uncomfortable. He squirmed in his chair. He jumped up on a table and started dancing. He fell off on to the carpet and rolled into a corner and turned into a large screen, on which all the memories of his life rushed past.
He appeared not to be there anymore.
“Are you here?” the man said.
The room disappeared.
The man began speaking his own language again and…
Woke up in his own bed.
His wife, next to him, half-asleep, mumbled a brief question, which roughly translates as: where have you been and how was it and did you have any idea you were going there before you went there and it doesn’t matter and the river has new fish in it and some of us are now jumping in and floating so fast we leave altogether and come back at about the same time we left or even before we left.
He said yes, one of the many different words for yes, which caused their bed and their house to move to the top of a high hill, from which they now, sitting up, could watch the end of the nightly rain of stars.
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at NoMoreFakeNews.com or OutsideTheRealityMachine.