THE FUTURE
The nature of our immortal lives is in the consequences of our words. Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. The fears we hold onto in life and love were taught to us to keep us in bondage. A loathing of the free mind to keep us in mental shackles. Unable to break these barriers to become wise. Which is an illusion by those not privy to imagine becoming free. Free from all bonds of injustice, malice, and rape of our good deeds. We are used by words like gentiles, workers, and slave. Until we adopt our God given rights to be what we were made to be. Men. Men of this Earth, autonomous, yet in harmony with living things.
There is no distant star, nor solar system, or alien faction that can save us. We may only help ourselves, by becoming what these world power players fear most. A people thoughtful and attune to the game. The instructions are only in one place, your heart. The papyrus that speaks of rules and guard rails, of morals and wisdom to show man his true purpose as one. Once you learn that there are powers greater than man, you become conscious of this road to the unknown. Only fear will keep meek men at bey. While only the strong will seek passage across these deep and uncharted seas.
There is a natural order to this world, and those who try to upend it do not fare well. This movement will never survive. If you join them, you and your entire family will be shunned. At best, you’ll exist as a pariah to be spat on and beaten. At worst, lynched or crucified. And for what? For what? No matter what you do, it will never amount to anything more than a single drop in a limitless ocean! …But what is an ocean but a multitude of drops?
WHAT IS REAL?
What we perceive as accurate determines representationalism. Love can outlive death.
“You can maintain power over people, as long as you give them something. Rob a man of everything, and that man will no longer be in your power.” Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, 20th Century philosopher. Our survival often demands our courage.
Knowledge is a mirror, and for the first time in my life I was allowed to see who I was, and who I might become. Freedom, the fatuous jingle of our civilization. But only those deprived of it have the barest inkling of what it really is. …The problem you create is a political one… I find it intriguing to imagine that, beneath these perfectly engineered features, are thoughts that terrify the whole of unanimity. I’m not afraid of such thoughts because I do not fear the truth. There’s a natural order to this world…and the truth is, this order must be protected.
Belief, like fear or love, is a force to be understood as we understand the theory of relativity and uncertainty principles. Phenomena that determine the course of our lives. Yesterday, my life was headed in one direction. Today, it is headed in another. Yesterday, I believed I would never have done what I did today. These forces that often remake time and space, that can shape and alter who we imagine ourselves to be, begin long before we are born and continue after we perish. Our lives and our choices, like quantum trajectories, are understood moment to moment. At each point of intersection, each encounter suggests a new potential direction.
WHAT IS BEAUTY?
The most relative term of them all. One that lay solely in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty, a personal and precious adornment. One in which only you have the power to define. It is as private and possessive as any form of fine art or literature. It hides deep within our souls only to be truly understood through time and wisdom. Beauty last forever and is gifted to those who stick around long enough to determine that it is alive, inside of you, beautiful. Who I divulge my secrets to. The beauty in love of children outweighs any other form. Though, there is nothing purer than a partnership that shares the power of love, which proceeds beauty.
Within art it all becomes clear. Wish I could make you see this brightness. Don’t worry all is well. All is so perfectly, damnably well! I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention if only one can first conceive of doing so. At moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as my own, and I know that separation is an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.
I broadcast my revelation to the 12 states and 4 off-world colonies. 18 minutes later the enforcers attacked. To be is to be perceived. And so to know thyself is only possible through the eyes of the other. The nature of our immortal lives is in the consequences of our words and deeds that go on apportioning themselves throughout all time. Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb we are bound to others past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future. In your revelation, you spoke of the consequences of an individual’s life rippling throughout eternity. Does this mean that you believe in an afterlife? A heaven or a hell? I believe death is only a door. When it closes another opens. If I care to imagine a heaven, I would imagine a door opening, and behind it I would find him there waiting for me.
If I may ask one last question? You had to know this union scheme was doomed to fail? Yes. Then why did you agree to it? This is what General Apis asked of me. What, to be executed? If I had remained invisible, the truth would stay hidden. I couldn’t allow that. And what if no one believes this “Truth”? – Someone already does.
This chapter partially is dedicated to the profound writing from the movie “Cloud Atlas”. I have used many portions to weave together a fabric for my definition of Realism. I used this movies script, as I know most people will never see the truth. They will be either un-willing or un-aware of this movies precision in outlining where we are today in politics. Many will never believe that this could be real. That we feed each other our own. That it could get this bad. Most believe it’s just a story. Stevenski, you are crazy to believe that, Really. Is there not infant fetal tissue inside the MRNA jabs? And where did they get it? You don’t want to know. What is in our food? What are in those shots? Only what little you have been told. And what you have been told are lies, or commercials marketing a product. Prove me wrong. Provide me the ingredients. But you can’t. Few can. Only the awake and aware know. So, who is the fool? This crazy artist, or the ones not asking the questions? Question all reality. Question all authority! Only then will you become a truly exceptional artist.
THE END
This is the end of my first book. Although it is not properly edited or published in book form, it is what it is. Thank you for following. I’d appreciate it if you became a sponsor or left a comment. The next series of writings and videos will be focused on further describing realism, painting instruction, and the manufacturing of oil paint, which is to become my new business / Passion. Stay tuned.
Stevenski Brewster - oil paintings 