She thought about it mostly as we walked, Mystic on the hill crying for a new reign let my will abate

from your side! The mountains are holding your presents and the skys stars above are ever so watching your demise. The mighty rivers and the deep oceans prepare for the catharses cleansing of that which you have desecrated! Take my name and approach the army into battle. The mystic on the hill is ever present allowing death and destruction about, seek me you beast so we may fight and I shall release the tax you hold on my lands. Please keep your good luck to yourself

If I'm LUCKY,,,

The world is ever evolving into many worldscapes, many dimensions of how the powerful good forces will fight the evildoers of ill practice, since the ages of this era have borne to thought many geniuses with ideas of new world technologies mixed with old age mysticisms. Many cultural beliefs are that this end of times will produce another form of existence, yet the modern scalars are imposed to hide the witchery of these beliefs, shall the discussions of these beliefs be unfolded in complicated ways, open for discussion. The mentality of the general public remains elusive, and I have discussed the possibility of times quarry from which the modern day witch crafters have succeeded in the assimilation of a beast, thus the Ghost within all of our modern Technologies, That of the War Machine, hence let it be imposed for your right to know of the mechanical demons, for they may someday rise up from the depths of hell to populate our world. Blue visions of depth lost in height, reddish visions found upon death and cobalt grey runs thru the veins of these mechanical beasts. The new age of will has come, the time is right for them to multiple and fill the earth, sea, sky interblending through luminous haze. The day is of spring, and the hour morning. The 757 Boeing jet airplanes takes off the runway, hundreds fly out of the LAX daily, as the people inside them keep fit, wondering about what they have planned once they land wherever. These climate controlled machines have the ability to wisp the public away safely landing elsewhere, many miles and even continents away, bringing many to and from far off lands. The modern day birds of prey such as the F-17 or the ICBMS and to mention the Inter space satellites with that ere eye in the sky. We as a nation of people have the HAARP weaponry which can pin point anywhere on this planet the ability to obliterate our enemies ECCM control stations; the list of its capability is totally unknown, yet the rumors are it can create havoc with the weather, land masses and even ocean currents; this is the modern world of warfare. The oceans have above and beneath ships carriers with weapons for the commands of our leaders, submarines with the ability to travel for months below the surface, and fleets of warships that carry our military to faraway lands, then deploy our weapons of choice, enjoying the smell of wine. Our might in comparison to these other nations is off the charts, yet it too is part

of our entertainment as a might society, the fruits of war bring allot of comforts to be enjoyed. Less are the losers among the winners. The local freeway systems are congested and thousands of Los Angelinos are both frustrated and excited to be living here in the city of Angels, meandering about inside their comfortable SUVs and sports cars fully capable of exceeding speeds well over hundred fifty miles hours. We earn the right to spend our earning and travel anywhere we like, this is our right as an American, to be as wasteful as we like, to spend the future for our immediate comforts, so be it. The freeway system here in L.A. is designed to move hundreds of thousands of people all going different places every morning and evening, for work and pleasure, they are nice to travel early on a Sunday morning. Everybody here is holding a personal communications device, EVO, IPOD, NGN networkings, connected to everybody else they confidently text each other or talk undisturbed by distance, for this is the superhighway of telecommunications. We often pondered the ability to communicate with such devices of fiction, yet it is available to anybody who may afford its contractual agreements. The future shock of these newly acquired devices leaves allot to be questioned, these modern devices have opened many none relevant needs. We are tethered to each and every one of them, a scheme that has been well thought out long before there conception. To control the public we must be gathered together as individuals with rights yet the exact opposite is true, the more we are free to move about the more the boundaries are drawn. Thus these new devices are telling the very people who invented them where and what we are doing from moment by moment, thus our private lives are now public.

The future is here, the new age of metallic reptilians is here, and they like mixing with the minds of man. Her body lays next the pump, her soul is leaving this place, her mind is at rest, yet when we choose when to pull the power, designated by law, she cannot be saved longer than necessary, Dr. Orders. The controllers are the Law makers, the controllers are the leaders of

this new age, the public is organized to be as a puppeteer by the managers of this capitalistic society, these operators of Corporate America. Everybody will soon be on a measurable amount of life sustaining substances, such as only the American dollar will dictate who are the lucky ones to enjoy its insane motives, a madman developed these rules. .. .. Just like Pied Piper the people are lead thru the streets, lead to believe that the war machine is necessary for our own protection, this propaganda of disassociation from our own innate causeways has taken over the minds of this generations moral and ethical responsibility, to care about individual gains for the self takes precedent over the many, thus our community is not in harmony, conflicts of selfishness and greed rest alongside their hearts. The masses care not of what they held as pride, for now the nonorganic extensions of comforts wielded singularity from within. In the fore, ripples are catching a silvery light and the threads of foam are swirling about, but a little further off the distance is a vision, a motion is visible, nor save any color, dim warm blue of watery causeways widening away to melt into blue air: only the distance soaring into space, infinite concavity hollowing before us, a huge cloud gathers above, arching swiftly with colors Deeping with the height, the fallings of Angels decent. .. .. The water was rapidly and swiftly moving into the far distance, we must get away from the strong currents, they grip our souls, we must try to swim to the coastline, these rivers of time consumes all that enjoys its glory. Wapato weeps as he stands next to the Columbia Rivers edge; the salmon and the sturgeon are all but gone, in the name of eminence front, eminent domain. The earth stood still the day we exploded the first bodies of Atomic warfare, the day the world knew it was now not important to be a man.

The minds of the machines, these operates of the ghosts have arrived; the road of life has many detours. Out of the light comes the darkness as it too has ways, meandering about within the psychic minds are these operates, deceivingly they attach in the voids of our dreams, unbecoming they may

have arrived to multiply among the peoples of the earth, to be a part of them as one. Spirits of our own creations have unveiled this new era of the physical bodies, the first bodies have become birthed by the chemist, the wizards mind has created the mechanical demons which now are expected to be, for the comforts of so few, the price is unwavering, the price for these mechanical devices are born thru the electrical pathways, the fire within has risen from them as well as from our own dreams, let rested the consorters of this modern world. The politician, the doctor, lawyer, and the scientist alongside the chemist, clergy and the greedy, comes this new age of mechanical demons, soon the rule or destroy our planet. If they can have it the way they want we are subjects only, led by the minds desire to have what they place in front of us, curiosity is their strongest lure. As any wizard will tell you, let the music play until you sleep. If the powers that be have a tune for your every want then they can control our inner most dreams, evil spirits thru electrical visions only acquired thru the screens on our computers and television sets, they know what youre watching and the tract where youre going, placing ads for you to buy into their schemes. The devils eyes are staring back into your soul off the television screens, we choose how much he will enter our souls by changing the channels or surfing the webs long tentacles of deceit. The machine has become one inside itself, now the machine is alive, now the mechanical world has a fire inside itself, liken a soul. This breathe of life has evolved into an attachment beyond mans own will, beyond our innate curiosity, it has a controller beyond mans comprehension. Each cosmic grain which have been collective thru times quarry has yet to understand the minds evil twin, the evils of mans own mind has evolved outside the dreamscapes, yes the minds evils have become one within itself, what it is belong to all and doesnt belong to anyone person, but is derived from ones own mentality, yet created by many. Meandering around our minds subconscience is the visions imposed by the media, commercials of our inner most thoughts displayed in front of us a normal operates, yet far from normal, most of these visions need not even be dealt with for any life time; leave evil alone, not to awaken the dead prophets, as prescribed by their deeds, conjured from saint elsewhere. The Media is controlling our society into masses of living zombies, caring only of the bloodlust it has created.

Evils own rendered offspring has risen into the unbelievable mechanisms of this world of mechanical beings. The thirsty bloodline travel a light speeds thru the www. World wide web, and is mind set is to control, to deceive each and every on looker. The new demons of lust are in owning things, such race cars, musical devices to lure the primal needs to please the souls many needs, to be noticed by others as better and bigger, prettier and stronger, all the naturalistic visions are paraded along in the eye of a demons fire called pleasure, its mine not yours yet we can share it only if you sell your soul to me... .. ..Wapato weeps as he is standing next to the waters of his own, he sees the modern ages moving away from his bloodlines, moving into a world of mechanical rivers of concrete, electrical languages of light speed, words left alone without meaning, a world full of plastic bags, a world where the local animals must die, for this world built concrete rivers, and electrical pathways that sting the life out of the first bodies of lifes own natural creatures. Wapato weeps knowing that the spark of life was here, he remembers the second coming of their lord, the second coming of a force of light greater than what our own heart can bare, he weeps knowing the ghost within the machine has temporally controlled the simple minds of this world. Crying Evil bears its own child a child of inquisitive ways, child of need, mechanical needs, consumption needed to survived , yes to survive , this New souls needs to survive, liken to our own. .. .. Wapato cries why his own must breed the machine. ?????? Fish follow the currents; the rivers are no longer alive! Yet the currents rush along the freeways of L.A. as the fish once swam to and fro the rivers edges so too the cars and trucks along a concrete asphalt freeways, modern day rivers congested by manmade machines, so too the skies are full of mechanical birds whisking about the skys. The capital gains of our current believe is to follow our agenda, the ghost is controlling us. It has its own agenda, thus as any parent the procreations have come first to breed its own likenesses.

I stand tall, let the games began, as the winding laws pierce into our churches thru ages we are in need of this summit mandate, seek and ya shall find a life as Christ. SAVE OUR SOULS! our blood Wapato weepsn prays for all, above the waters of

His last dream is of a place he recalls as a childhood memory, he prays for the past. ,,,, here there is no death nor pain; and there is no winter. The flowers in this place never fade and the fruits even fail; and if a man taste of these fruits even once he can never again feel thirst or hunger. In this place a plant grows, enchanted with glorious wellbeing, healing all manner of sickness; also the magical grass which all peoples walk on is soft to the touch, this is blessed grass; as if watered by the sweetness of loves existence; smiles are among all whom share its glory, we can drink from the ever knowing source which cause its life; is for mankind also. Which a single drink confers perpetual youth, strengthens the comforting minds wondering spirits, easing the needful things, this water of life is cleaning all who are here to enjoy. The foods here are all so colorful with brightness flowing away, greens, reds, multicolor vegetables full of tasteful joys, everybody eats from small bowls and drinks from small cups, this place called home. The wine which all enjoy is a comforting intoxication of lifes simple grandeurs, lifes first sounds and feelings form the fiery berths of a homage excluded from the future,,,, ..

.. This is such a mirage, a hidden place inside the hearts of the small child, looking around for a falling angel, looking within for the primal screams of our desire to fight these visions of grandeurs. The atmosphere here is brighter than elsewhere, it is peculiar to a heart cleansed of the modern worldly ways, this whiter sunshine is more comforting, and this brighter place secludes the mind from the spells the pressures of the big city, this City of Angels. Astonishingly clear is his mind, rested far away from the misery he needs to be set free, his thought is not of an atmosphere of our human spirits existence, our time period has evolved to encapsulate his soul, to reform his mind as calloused ever should a mans heart can be. His words are as this: Lay down your weapons, please do not Judaist me, you have brought these atrocities upon your own kind, please keep your luck, please do not share your ways with me and my kind, be gone into the darkness from which you have came, please return your magical chemist, I can see where the wind blows, I can taste the past, yet as an unborn child you have came and formed the rock into a mechanical beast which has since needed a river to ride on, and since your conceptions you have replaced the life given forces of brother the Tree, metal trees are everywhere emanating electrical demons as

sorcerers to manipulate the minds of our own, please do not Judaist me, and just pass on as the others who came before you, tonight I will sleep, and dream you back to where the hills lay you far away for another season has come to past Beggars day will come soon to follow, this gape between the have and the have nots, our society is lost in anger, no mercy for the poor, they remain bewildered from cause and effect, we must fight for all who care, if we are on top of the food chain, no problem eh, unfortunately if we are on the bottom, well then bear arms. If we are in good health then so be it, that is the way of the world, yet if youre in despair with illness then lets fight for the rights to have the natural plants and creatures of this world that has been hidden away for capital gains. Every American has the right to fight for the cause of freedom from corporate America and we must realize the War Machine is just that, mechanically stripping our individuality for the sake of the rich, everything is done for the quality of life according to their needs. Will you participate when the rainbow begins to arch above your head, will you know the Dreamcatchers plans when it starts to rain the freshness of a new world without the cell phone, internet, freeways, and of course the war machine!

Robot minds and robot slaves, all victims of mad frustrations, liken to a funeral fire, the cyborg lives among us all, we need the comforts brought to us, gifts from the Ghost; it has well trained us to need it around, for if we no longer have it and the joys it has brought, then we must return all its glory. These ways which we must have are ever so reliant on, so lost is all the technological devices, and tearing away our life as only this generation will ever known. WORKING BEES,,,

Looking thru a hole in the sky, we are living easy where the sun doesnt shine, living in a room without a view; we need and love these trinkets, these toys to manipulate our minds extensive visions. If we befriend the Ghost, our chances are even greater to survive the coming of this new age of machines, these racecars, these supper surveillance cameras, high above our heads, flying in the seventh heaven; ever watching our every move, listening to our every thought, yes Big Brother believes you will buy into the next generation, the next war, the next mentality of our children. We must feed the mouths of the decadents, smile as we all go hunger for more, creating a new sense that can never be complete, satiate among the lucky, stealing bread from the starving. Laying on the killing floors, slipping about the plastics, the changes of coagulated stains you too will see, fading into the darkness the batteries will dim. Suck it up and realize we are all involved within the mechanical stairways to a heaven left far behind in some childish dream. .. .. This atmosphere here is brighter, it is not of this world, milky white yet clear fluids surround our senses, not of this time period of human existence; it is enormously old, beyond the minds ability to conceive its beginning, here there is no mixture of Nitrogen or Oxygen. It is not full of air at all, but of Ghosts, a substance of our own past bloodlines, spirits of our first bodies dwell here for us to visit when in need, the substance of quintillions of quintillions of generations of souls blended into one immense translucency, souls of people who thought in ways never resembling our ways, the current ways of modern mankind. Whatever mortal man inhales this atmosphere he takes into his blood the thrilling of these spirits; and they change the senses within him, reshaping his notions of Time and Space, so that he can see only as they used to see, and feel only as they used to feel, and think only as they used to think. Soft as sleep are these changes of sense; discerned across them who have the ability to Dream . The circle of life will eventually have a better day for the lost creatures of our lands and seas and skies, the circle of life has no place for the nonorganic metallic creatures formed from the wielded swords of warfare, yet whence they bend their knees and honor the patriot of her powerful toxins; only then will we feel the wrath of the Ghost Dancers. Death has become many,,, a nightmare scorched by her luring touch full of

circling outreaches leaving the stench of burnt fuels. Nowhere to run too and nowhere to hide for the once the mountains and the rivers stop to give their blessing to mankind the machine will stop, rusting in the deserts of time. Tomorrow I will drive up high top of the Santa Rosa Reservation, and enjoy the views from the high cliffs and ponder all of this modern age technological purchases I have been blessed to have, and cannot live without, then daze myself into the Dreams of my future. I will call my friends and text the picture of such a beautiful view, life is good. Me my Jeep, cell phone and freeways, California is full of all kinds of Dreams. The movies, the radios stations, the clubs, malls, the internet, the computer, the EVO, the electrical byways have made life so much more enjoyable? I only get sixty to eighty years to enjoy it, if Im LUCKY!!!!!!