Further Ruminations on the Divine Feminine and KRYSXTRYN

When I went up to Jerusalem, I looked up and saw a woman sitting on top of the mountain, clad in black, her hair disheveled, crying and hoping someone would comfort her. And I too was crying and hoping someone would comfort me. I approached her and spoke to her and said to her: ‘If you are a woman, speak to me, and if you are a spirit get away from me!’ She responded and said to me: ‘Don’t you recognize Me?’… I answered and said to her: ‘You are not better than my Mother Zion, who has become a grazing ground for the beasts of the field.’ She answered and said to me: ‘I am your Mother Zion.'”

I feel my Christianity changing: I feel my Christianity charged with transformation, a transfiguration that leads to radical openness and love. I feel my spirit changing: I feel my Spirit charged with transformation contorting and crucifying my body to match and mirror the image of the Godhead. I mirror the image of a Woman: the Woman weeping: weeping for my sins, and not only my sins, but the sins of the collective of Christianity. This Christianity evangelizes closed boundaries, borders, and gates to its ruins, not realizing Christianity itself currently undergoes self-deconstruction, and Christianity proves to be a stumbling stone to Christianity. Christianity shatters Christianity: Christianity splits like cedars of Lebanon. Yahweh will slay this Christianity as the twisted serpent, the torturous Leviathan. Yahweh will slay Benjamin as the Behemoth: I do not and did not recognize the Woman as my Mother, a Binah to Benjamin and Shekinah to my Spirit. Her Spirit weeps and slays: her spirit swords and slices, and my Flesh becomes a blood fountain spraying fluid forced through my bosom, and my blood sates the multitudes. My blood satisfies Let His Blood Be Upon Us And Our Children, and I am a child of blood. I am a child of Christianity and Woman: a bloody Christianity and a bloody Woman. Christianity continues to crucify many Christs: I did not feed nor did I give drink nor did I clothe nor did I visit in prison: I crucify my Christs with my Christianity. I dole out many dolorosas to my Marys with my Christianity. Cleave to the body: bind to the body in black bondage: cling to the body in blood, and this blood begets love. Christ divides with the sword, but this blood begets love. This blood among the broken bread and broken bodies: even in wounding and death: this blood begets love. This blood begets love. This blood begets love. Battle in the blood, Benjamin, of those you have battered and bruised. Battle in the blood Benjamin of those weeping and wounded. Battle in the blood. This blood begets love.

Then Yahweh answered me and said,

Write the vision down,

Inscribe it on tablets

To be easily read

Yearn Yahweh, Benjamin Elijah, the Eloah waxing Moon Woman. Learn Yahweh, Benjamin Elisha, the Elohim double mantle and Moon Woman portion, your placental person born gold and silver. Learn rich in years yearling: yearn olive branch grafted ground grid Godhead, and the goddess melts molts mantle silver slivers the shards of the dimly lit mirror. Glass Yahweh golden: shimmer Eloah silver: LORD Yahweh and Jehovah darkly answers. Answer dark: answer dim: answer dawn: dirn desert diurnal midnight prayer the tiers prime terce and terse, and Taryn testifies on tablets the desert descent decided undecidable. Taryn tunes the clear tock: rock vibrating vision. Taryn tines the clear time: ruby rarefying viewing. I view Yahweh: I vision KRYSXTRYN.

There are two aspect of femininity. They are represented y the two letters Hei of Havayah spelled Yod-Hei-Vav-Hei

Feminine fuels Tetragrammaton: Female enfleshes Havayah and Yahweh, and the Flesh reveals Taryn and KRYSXTRYN. She prays the plethora of the permutations. The two tells Taryn and tales Taryn and tells Taryn. The two stays true to Taryn Tetragrammaton and Taryn Trickster, and each aspect annets Elohim and Adonai. Elohim twos because before Elohim beginning Elohim and Elohim creating Elohim, and each Eloah females Yahweh and Adonai, the Taryn I Am. The two letters whisper Hei Hei Holy for Our Lady, and the letter contains the secret of our Lady: Woman in Yahweh and Yahweh in Woman: Feminine in masculine and masculine in Feminine. Elohim and Adonai repeats amen, amen.

The world was created through the name Havayah, thus all reality reflects the structure and dynamics of this name; and this name itself reflects two levels of union between male and female, Yud-Hei and Vav-Hei.

World through woman, and Woman through World: Woman through Yahweh and Yahweh through Woman, the Havayah and Yahweh together for two women and four women: two female and four female, and some unite male to female and some unite female to male. Each union is a world, and the union of unions is the whole world, male and female in Yahweh and Havayah. One name in totality is male and one name in totality is Female: YHVH and KRYSXTRYN, and each Hei attaches to KRYSXTRYN. Elohim and Adonai. The name numerates and enunciates names and name: the unnameable name and then the sacred nameable name. I pray the name and names to Creation and throughout Creation: I pray the name and names through heresy and apostasy, my own mythology and Christianity: KRYSXTRYN to my YHVH, and each name structures each name. The names structure the name Benjamin, a Son of Man and a Son of Abraham, and its dynamics daniel Ancient of Days and Ancient of Ancients. Two levels: two ladies: two women: Mother and Daughter and Sister and Daughter, and each union structures Benjamin, a mother’s microcosm.

Chokmah is associated with Yud, Binah with the Upper Hei, the six sefirot of emotions with Vav, and Malchut with the lower Hei.

Chokmah Christina: Binah Benjamin: Androgynous Adonai. Chokmah Christian and Christ, and Chokmah calls me to lovingkindness. Chokmah calls me to Christianity, a Christianity of agape, eros, and mercy, and the eros exalts my dirty body to divinization (wash me whiter than snow, Yah: wash me with woman Taryn the blue Bathers: From Taryn Bathsheba, bear wisdom and wisdom woman. The Yud only yearns as I yearn for Yahweh a Bride for the Bridegroom, and the upper Hei sails in the unction Holy Holy Hei and Holy to Yahweh Saboath. My Sabbath and Shekinah Sabbaths me rotating Saturn with my lady, and my lady lanterns the light of emanation. Emanation flows downward the Flesh of Vision, the Vav with the lower Hei, and the Hei still harnesses and hosts light. The six pours and powers Trinity: the male with its Female and the Female with its male, and each pair Benjamin androgynous with Taryn Malchut.

Draw near to God and he will draw near to you

Draw dense dark: draw down dark, a God drowning and a God deluge: the downpour drenches desert. Draw raw dark: draw deep dark, the Woman as ark: her widows to windows wed darkness destitute, a red rain red sea sea of reeds salting. Draw near dark: a nearness new and nearness nearly noon but the now eclipses Woman: Moon Woman, Lunar Lady, Lady Liminal but Liturgy, and I pray near to now, a none nothing of Yahweh God, and his none knows her. His nothing knows her dark gnosis and blue burden, three alphas and omegas spelling Sophia. She spells you: she spills you: she nears you as a Godhead and Goddess and Yahweh Our God is One. Yahweh our God is One Offering One Oracle One Burden hidden her dark desert, but her water wells oasis, revelation in nothing and near. Draw her water: draw near.

Excerpt from Bunnies for Christina (Up off the floor)

Up off the floor, drunk come on up you fearful Jesuit — some dope professor, For Mats Gustafson and the European Posse slide microphones and macintosh (the anonymous in the macintosh) — punctuated rhythm or zero-person games (automated game, cellular evolution or moving pixels] alive creatures electronic creature with acoustic properties Alvinproperties predict each camber the savagery)/ Confession. I have no memory San Diego which is tinning busses the bus stops driving over rapevines and wine vine, the bus driver’s seat pneumatic or ronco something, shifting up and down with every disturbance on the road curvature and he laughs and me and Elle laugh carrying our bags in our laps until we reach Los Angeles the switch of train station and I’ve never ridden a train before or even been to any train station and along the long hallway, slightly lost, looking at our train tickets and Elle asks a worker for help and he screams at us Look at the signs! Look at the Signs! then driving away in a small electric cart) but we find our way anyhow. Train hardly crowded and me and Elle sit in a family car which is the best space. I listen to Freedom Suite by David S. Ware on my cd player and Elle falls asleep on my shoulder / We reach San Diego. Christina picks us up in her car. Driving along freeway the white road blocks on one aside speeching (preventing accidents and philias antialiasing our bodies in opposite direction I suppose, a crude sex of contorted metal or shattered carbon fiber) and the traffic is full of old drivers (stereotypical old drivers) and I say, get out of the way you pokey butts! and Christina laughs — Pokey butts? and I become embarrassed because I thought everybody had heard of the term pokey butt, I remember it as a kid, but I guess not. Yes, I died here once and madness — sparks along the greatest forest line in the dark wandered like a hermit or a hobo. Beethoven was a hobo who knelt and listened to the light, a deaf hobo who could not hear other hobo complaints, me complaining and unable to listen to light or any sort of visual, and I would have cursed the old man, that fist-fighting motherfucker if he was here, I say to myself. There were supposed to be bunnies here, cuddling and cute beneath the compulsory trees running angles mad like Olympic speed skaters, but I guess we missed them Christina says, and I wander like a hermit outside the restaurant with clear windows like an Edward Hopper [somewhere here a eucalyptus sings songs; somewhere hear, Buddha watches tv] / I wish they would worry about me in there, being along the tree line and it sloped down very into the decease of leaves someone forgot to rake up or sacrifice to the snow demons and there are no recycling bins down there, no, the litter of recycling bins and fake chalk fake chalk paint whatever it is sloganeering and decrying only a few pride colours / between local san diego school station headlights. I lived here for three days away from train stations) I bought a Francis Bacon poster depicting various grotesque of Velazquez’s Pope Innocent and the irony is no more innocence in the screaming and the streaked blue and black like he was mugged by a ghost with razors. Pair by pair align in simultaneous agonies. I like it very much I say to myself and I bought it, in that art store, a junction of the San Diego Contemporary Art Museum full of pretensions and typewriters — March! crossbeams y repetition full of clever. The bell that holographs the Lady de Guadalupe. Taproot #17 for wire structures and steel cable, encoding an elegant math — Umbilicus — like a jazz improvisation with an electrical outlet. No, we walk midlife through dark wood and I am lost and I lose virgil (nightly vigil) my muse, and it is raining very hard and the cold is bitter and before I sat on the stone for a good ten minutes alone out there (wilderness any unknown is wilderness mathematics is trying find solution for wilderness) and I hope Christina is worried or at least becoming akin to a hunter — oh buildings the microbiology, the living dormitories, coca-cola dispensers — all the same and such journey is useless — sit down awhile, sleep on the concrete. Everyone goes home on the weekend, Christina said to me — it’s full of ghosts and dull birds tapping at my window. In dark, all directions mean same. Wasting my time dying and recalling anachronisms and anarchism and who would win in a fight, Karl Marx of John Locke? I put my money on Karl Marx because of his full beard of bees, buzzing and angry with stingers and John Locke just had his blank slates, easy to crush heads with, but not to swat easily against. Abunce Christina! amongst I did flee no across spotted pelt and perchance you assist me in the path — missing gone train ride, missing this fucking city which draws, quarters and dimes my physicality y illphant hobo) Become invisible: by hiding. by divesting yourself of distinguishable features. by sinking through the floor. by becoming someone else. by ceasing to exist. Ben, did you see anyone? No, no one. Oh ok I called a search party for you. Let’s go inside. We climb four floors of discovery entry inside and share a Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream (Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough) and watch the local school television. Christina’s hair is black hole black hair over should length — it reminds me of the adoration of the earth, the sacrifice of folk religions — primality creation (no creation without primality) for out of the dusalmostmud, only such We moved upon we words move upon Us. Circle Elders and outer gods, a council seens from Pagan Russian — I am the vessel through which it passed through. Ben, I’ll always love you, even when you’re lost, Christina says. (I am always absent, from bottle to bottles and class ring to class ring). Be nice to Elle, Christina says, she needs that right now. Elle is angry with me — when she thinks I am sleeping, I overhear castles of Monty Python’s Search For the Holy Grail (haha, killer bunny) — saying I’m like any Jenny Greenteeth or Church Grim and perhaps I am. Elle and me take the bus (alter busses control bus busying schedule) to the mall and the air is cool on a February afternoon turn night and Elle is still silently furious so we don’t say much just assist and I follow her through various stores such as Abercrombie and Fitch or Something Something Station and she disappears — rurry kind of fidgety crazy dumb saint of the mind and feeling like wandering again, no grace except those ballet dancers and choreographers / and the clunkage of coins in the zippered pocket Miami Dolphin jacket and pay phones around and I remember Elle’s cell phone Number — Let’s meet at the movie theatre she says, and watch Lost in Translation. And I go to the multiplex but Lost in Translation is sold out so I go to the bookstore and chronicle Catch 22) sit down bench read it. Neon lights of a stand selling hip coffee and juicing sirening four-to-to-floor and blips. Horse apples. Dominatrix. In the absurd/ Irrational is constitution and grid, lifter. Laughing on a Train / the absurd is no the factoids of rationality nor versus irrationality but rather that the backwards circle of mind nervous and nervous mind is valid and typically valid and perhaps more valid then the straight corporate systems and system technique / critique. That is what the war means — that’s where straight thinking gets you. Only when the roughagerallyrabblerabble and sickbeds fevers fighting for high fevers or faking it, too sick to go back out bombing back houses to hell (this of course assumes Hell is retrograde time past time and before the creation of houses there was Hell so then houses can now go back to Hell so maybe Hell predates Houses and Houses were meant for Hell anyways) but not sick enough to be infirmed into the bed, just bumbling around physical rooms (always need exercise they say to you) and that is what makes it humorous. Elle walks out of the movie early (it bored me, she says, but I liked Scarlett Johansson in her underwear) and the busses have stopped running (perilous poking some paternal portion gray matter panic but Elle is more level headed) and we take a tram (running Old San Diego) and the smell of taxis lined up on sidewalks waiting for a ride perhaps from whores and hookers or the occasional petty criminal but no, it was me and Elle who were Lost and Christina had to work that day) Morning oversleeping a small room need to go to the beach, and Christina showers and dresses, a towel wrapped around Naked Irish Flesh, red fingernails and toenails, but oblivious to me admiring her temporary covered nakedness / arising out of a clamshell and white patterns and I wish then I could kiss her on top of her right shoulder Female Pale Flesh, and then her small mouth/lips and for awhile nothing for awhile but nothing… Yes the beach and wind — she wears a New England Patriots shirt and some shorts which his odd because she’s not a Patriots fan, but it looks good on her anyways, and — You’re so paranoid Ben! Locking everything — But everything must be locked, bolts of steel, or iron filings. Hair blowing about alive, black creatures and alive, listening to Freedom Suite… The beach was nice and I wish I could have stayed there longer because death is not so easily overcome in one or two nights. Longer days are more efficient. It has to be more efficient then Ice Cream and bunk beds. I go home that night and read Jorge Luis Borges — the Circular Ruins and I realize perhaps We Golems created each other and not able to feel any fire except each other’s– I felt the intense fire of that night, the Catch-22 I bought in the bookstore, the coffee I drank, reflected in the scream of the Pope’s face, the patriarch’s face, the very first man.

Rumination on the Divine Feminine

The Eternal Feminine is a patriarchal myth that constructs women as passive, erotic, birthing, or nurturing body excluded from playing the role of subject who experiences and acts.

I ponder how guilty I am of such myth: a male writing the female, a man writing the woman as if she can’t speak for herself. Certainly Eros: I write Taryn in Eros and Taryn by Eros. Certainly Mother: I write Christina in Mother and by Mother, as passive as Mary Mother of God (is Mary Mother of God passive? In her biblical portrayal maybe, but what about in her assumption and coronation? Acting in her many devotions? Something to study further. How do I write a KRYSXTRYN who is subject that experiences and acts? I must decrease and she must increase.

Taryn bore the stars and sun God

Taryn bores beyond and by the beyond: beyond blows blasts burden, the burden of benjamin, but Taryn trains my body to prayer perfection. Taryn traps my body in the tuss and truss, and my bores beyond by Taryn and to Taryn, and Taryn toys with the stars strewn striking Bethlehem, and the Shepherd sures shoves there, calling fire from heaven, heavens gathering and returning in the sum of the sun, a chariot and bridegroom to the sky.

Yahweh, I want to give up writing. I feel uninspired. I feel repetitious and dull (as opposed to radiantly repetitious). I know I will continue writing: this cycles and waves continually, and I will continue, but still Yahweh – I feel so dry and depleted. I go back to the room and write.

She draws the dead into her star-filled sky, and refreshes them with food and wine.

She shames me. She shames me dead: she shames me deaths. The dead surrounds me an abomination of desolations: desolation and desolations abomination and abominations drowsy dead drunk dry. Can these dry bones live / she shames me. Son of Man son of the Garden, she strikes me a Son of the sky: she strikes me stone twice gushing water and woman giving birth to Messiah. Sky scouts with celestial choirs, and their song quakes the dead saints. Their song and her song refresh with resurrection, witnesses to crucifixion. She eats the food and breaks the bread: she blesses the wine in remembrance.

All I write returns to resurrection: the center of my writing circles the crucifixion, burial, and the resurrection of Jesus, of Christ and Christina. I write the Godhead, and the Godhead includes absolutely Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine, and all two returns to the Godhead.

Come, let us receive Sabbath the Queen

Come Christ, Come Christina: come to Christ, come to Christina. Come collect and come cure, and I come as a cruel creature to the body of Christ. I come as a creature coupled to Christ and Christina, and the coupling chains me to all Creation. Let us: let us receive and let us come, and let us come and let us receive: the repetition of revival and the repetition of resurrection in Sabbath, I rest. In her Sabbath, I rest and revive, and as Queen, she crystals and Christinas: She Kristinas and Krystals, each equally a female and each equally a Sabbath, and I rest in her Sabbath Spirit.

One must sing and rejoice at the table in her honor; one must receive the lady with many-lighted candles, many enjoyments, beautiful clothes, and a house embellished with fine appointments.

I admire Mother: I worship Woman and KRYSXTRYN. I adore Mother: I sing to her Spirit and rejoice in roses and Rosary (a Rose of Sharon and Lilies in the valley and among the valley). I take my place at the Table with Taryn, and I partake in sacred prayers in her honor (Holy Woman Holy Mary Holy Taryn). I receive the Lady with great rejoicing: I receive the lady camp meeting revival and camp fire lights many-lighted many-candles the multiplicity and writing of Our Lady My Lady my KRYSXTRYN who blesses me beautifully bountifully abundantly Adonai and Holy Hosts. I enjoy her Eucharist, and I gown myself in her garments, and my home opens complete hospitality to ladies and angels unawares, an appointment with Adonai, an appointment with Taryn, an appointment with Yahweh in my apartment.

She said of Herself, I am the mother who chastises her children.

She says and she slays in the Spirit. She says the saying and the said, a sword that slices through my Flesh. She says Herself and She herself said the I Am; I am what I am and I will Be What I Will Be. I am the Mother and I will be the Mother forever. I am the Mother who chastens and chastises her children for the sake of Christ and Christina, and they are indeed children of Christ.

I am she who is called Matronit.

The I Am and I Am to be she gives sure shade as a mother, and her mother darkens, a matron matronit matronita darkness, and I am depths. I am depths: Mother to Depths, Mother in Depths, Mother by Depths, and from that mother, the monstrosity being she and bearing she. I think I’m a new mother: I think I Am with I Am and she with She and She with me, a marker and mate for a mother.

Commentary on statements by Philip K. Dick and the struggle with Spiritual Dryness

PKD: Christ appears at the total pastiche / gestalt cosmically

Jesus Christ, appear to me: I have lost my way. I have lost the way: the way to Christ and Christina; the way to YHVH and Woman. Christ, appear to me in my apartment: the Spirit of Elijah has left me. The double portion of the mantle has scattered. I inhabit this incarnation alone. Jesus Christ, appear to me. Appear to me in the columns of my collage: appear in the pastiche and pulp, the ground and gestalt, interior and exterior in the microcosm and macrocosm. Appear to me cosmically and appear to me in the Book. I fail the Book: the Book is a stone I stumble across and am crushes by. Book crushes me Christ.

PKD: As information, this universe reveals itself not in a linear manner, but Christ-form as a steady modulation fed into it.

I must remember the Book and Vision is not linear: I must know the Book and Vision does not reveal itself linearly. Book and Vision is information: the Christ Body and Incarnation itself: itself universe. Macrocosm-microcosm. Book information: Book Universe: Book Christos and Christ. Book anointed and Messiah. Incarnation information. Nonlinear: Chaotic: Crucifix. Nonlinear: Chaos Kari: Crucifixion Creation. I am a poor Christian. I am foolish Christian who should not even qualify as Christian. I doubt far too often, and my faith is weak, not even the size of a mustard seed (Lord, help my unbelief!). I am an a twist who mistakes himself as a Christian; or a pagan and heathen who mistakes himself to be orthodox; one between protestant and catholic, heterodox and orthodox, with too many failings. A liminal Christina who does not qualify as Christina at all. Ah, Yahweh, why have me for one of your own? Why not let this lost sheep be lost?

New Vision anew Vision tinctures generation and regeneration / degeneration and deconstruction into unconstructible Creation. Creation crackles crumbles disintegration and integration, and the repetition revives revisits reality unglued reality all-inclusive the rotor of the Real. Row the Real El Roi, reach the Real, and Real roars the lion and young lionness, the Lady impassable.

Viscious Vision vickers viewtiful, the developing desert deluge / desert vexes hexes, the sensual sexes in Hades. Sheol, Vision, equally as Air and Sky: Sheol, Vision, as He and She between, and the grave gods as God and the ground grounds God in soul and spark.

I view Vision novel near gnosis and Christship, and the new Vision repeats old Vision verbatim. New Vision views old wine and new wine, and two visions erupt and rupture both in the event of Christ-and-Crucifixion. Two visions erupt and rupture Benjamin in the event of Christina-and-Crucifixion, a weeping Woman and the Woman swept up in Spirit in ascension and assumption. Vision, be subtle as serpent and naked as primordial human. Vision, be slender and sly as bronze serpents and nude as a fleeing disciple avoiding arrest but still he was tested.

Test Vision your testimony. Test Vision your testament, the interplay and play of Woman Wisdom at bereshit and beginning. Begin subtle with difference and difference with repetition, and repetition Gospel and Kingdom anew identical but repeatable difference. Creation creates at Crucifix: Creation creates at Paraclete: Creation creates at Parousia. Repent: Repeat: the Kingdom of God is at hand.

I am a Christian mystic, but how far you are, my God! I am far away from you. I have developed too much ego, and I have failed in my kerygma. I have developed too much concern about what others think of me, and not what you think of me, my God and Adonai. I am supposed to speak of the body of Christ and the flesh of Jesus, crucified and resurrected. I am supposed to speak of the Divine Feminine of the Godhead, your Sophia and Shekinah, and I have neglected this most of all. I cleave to you, Yahweh! I cleave to you absolute Male and Female: I cleave to you Father-mother, Son, and Holy Ghost! Forgive me, O Lord. Come close to me even when others perceive me as a heretic and apostate.

PKD: The modulation is perturbation in the reality field.

The modulation monarchs matriarchs mothers Mary Marie: the modulation mimics manipulates magics madness. Modulation changes: modulation changes as Christ, key to key and key to kerygma, the cornerstone and keystone, and Christ chants pantonal, incarnation all-inclusive. Be a Mother to me: be a Mother for me, and the modulation perturbs through prayer. Modulation perturbs through liturgy, light, and lady, all rock and all Marie, and my prayers ascend Heavens. My prayers descend dead, and I revive dead through prayer. I reconcile dead through modulation, and the reality reals. Reality reals female and feminine, a physical field, and field envelops envelopes encompasses Christ and Christina.

PKD: Christ is hyperinformation that reduced the information universe to rhe carrier which it modulates.

Christ carriers carrier: Christ cursors carrier, a crawling out community and the community of saints. Carrier carriers change: Christ carries change, and change charges chilling crown Christ Crown Christina. Hyperinformation hosts hyperincarnation: the hypostasis human and God of Hosts / Yahweh Saboath a Son of Saturn seeking Sabbatai Sevi, and Sevi saying solemn over the Torah Scroll in marriage. The information marries incarnation universal yet particular and peculiar, prophet and priesthood.

What are my ultimate goals as a mystic? Theosis: Where my will and energy is indistinguishable from God’s will and energy. To be a god for God, and a Son of God for God, and fulfill the will of the Godhead. What is the will of the Godhead in my life? Charity, Faith, Hope. O Yahweh increase my faith! Help my unbelief! Help my love without conditions, absolutely. After these, it is prophecy – and I pray I prophesy only what you will, my God. I am so far from you: help bring me near to you!

PKD: The Universe was created out of 22 Hebrew letters but there is a missing 23^rd letter.

Universe: Universal unilateral uni-multiplicity. Uni-multiverse and multiverse, multiplicity in One and by One. One a was ultimate away to the ultimatum: ultimately God. Ultimately God and Godhead, Universe and Universal multiple multiplicity holy harmony. The heterophony of angelic voices voce Creation, and Creation cools at the crux of crucifixion, each cross a T and letter. The letters allude to Our Lady, and the Alphabet awes in Adonai, a rose radiant by twenty two but multiplicity misses the addition. Multiplicity compacts Christ and Creation: Creation and Christina, a Woman writer reviewing the lady letters the assorted Alphabets. Alphabets arc alphabet: one sign and wonder in heteroglossia. Alphabet anchor alphabet: one symbol and synchronicity the sounds of the Godhead.

PKD: When the 23^rd letter is added, all the negative prohibitions of the Torah vanish: severe limitations and justice are replaced by mercy and freedom.

Torah law links and loosens to Freedom and Mercy. The law contains the seeds of salvation, through transgression of the law, the shells break, and the seeds plant Palm Tree Garden. The twenty-third letter foretells Trinity and Taryn, the stake of Our Lady. Each addition adds favor and grace to Adonai, Lord and Lady, and the God gowns the Goddess new wine new garment. New wine new garment: New Torah New Testament, and Covenant cruces Christina. The negative nuits to nothing, now apophatic and eventual apotheosis. Into apotheosis, sacred anarchy – anarchy as sacrament – and anterior antinomianism. In the antinomian, mercy and freedom. Mercy from the Mother: Freedom with the Flesh.

PKD: This is the third shemittah and it is the messianic age

Third: Three: Trinity: Taryn. Three Trinity: Triplicity: Taryn triangle thirds and threes, and each tells the cycle and the age. Shemittah cycles Spirit and Sanctus, Spirit spells the letters: twenty-two letters and twenty-three letters, a T crossed with Taryn and Christ, and Christ christens the Messianic Age. Christina chrisms the charisma of the charismatic age, and Spirit spills over to the Sons and Daughters.

Yahweh, I’m still not entirely sure what ot do or what I am doing. I pray profusely and prolifically: I pray the Liturgy of the Hours and the Rosary. The prayers comfort me, but I do not know if I am getting any closer to you, my God. I study scriptures and the Bible: what still am I lacking? To sell my possessions and give everything to the poor and follow you? Where do you want me to follow, Yahweh and Lord Christ. I will follow you wherever you go: just tell me and lead me, Yahweh. Just tell me and lead me, Jesus. I will even follow you to orthodoxy: I will even follow you to heresy. Only speak to me and say the word, my God.

PKD: Christ completes the basis of Creation in which 23 letters replace the 22 originally employed.

Christ blends the basis, a spanning set across the letters and between the letters. The letters blue the blonde of Taryn. Taryn blesses blonde letters, and the twenty-third letter is the secret and unpronounceable letter hidden in KRYSXTRYN. I neglect KRYSXTRYN and I neglect the Divine Feminine in my return to orthodoxy – Yahweh, how do I express the Divine Feminine? How do I bless and honor her, she as part of your life of the Godhead? My writing has failed – I can’t be certain if this is good writing; in all probability, very bad writing, but you command me to write. You command me Christ and Creation: Creation and Christina: Christina and Christ. I write in the wisdom of those letters. I write in the window of those letters.

PKD: The Torah returns to its jumbled matrix state and then reforms anew: differently.

Torah tangled and untangled: Torah compacted and expanded: Torah tested Taryn and teased Taryn, and Taryn takes Old Testament and New Testament. Torah returns to Taryn remnant: remnant and remainder. Remain in me and realize resurrection. Remain in me and pray Rosary. The Matrix mediates as Mother: Mother meers mediatrix and co-redemptrix, and she joins the jumble with Christ to rearrange Creation out of Chaos. Meet anew: meet transformation: meet transfiguration. Her hidden name reveals itself omnipresent, an ubik in new combination of letters.

PKD: The plasmate in this hyperinformation feeding into the old, rigid, fossilized 22 letter system.

The plasmate plows prayer: prayer pierces plasmate as additional information: hyperinformation into hyperinformation: the messiah and Christ. Plasmate transplants its information into me, and I pray profusely and prolifically: I pray Liturgy of the Hours and Rosary. Plasmate feeds me New Field into New Flesh: the female and feminine and she pierces and pieces the shell o the old system, and raises the sparks to God and Glory. Old ornates offering: rigidity reguls real: fossilized ferments flesh, and the 22 letters name 23 letters name Godhead and KRYSXTRYN. AS the blood Christ, just as KRYSXTRYN, her cosmic body.

PKD: Luke-Acts is not a verbal narrative about Christ – it is Christ.

Book is not a verbal narrative about KRYSXTRYN – it is KRYSXTRYN. Luke-acts layers light and supernal light, as two luminaries, now equal in paradise. Luke-acts laser lights – pink light and pink laser – and the ct of the Apostles become the Acts of Adonai. Not a verbal narrative, but a visionary narrative, one named to all senses and one naked before all senses beyond sense, and the Book bears the Flesh of Christ bound in the Flesh of Christ. Book binds and bounds word, the word in woman, but I have forgotten woman and Divine Feminine in my orthodoxy.

PKD: The Gospel is real world and appears in our spurius world as a putative book.

The Gospel grounds me in God: the World wells me in Woman. Word washes me in wilderness, and wilderness wilds woman and waters woman, the woman by the well and the woman by the Gospel. Gospel weirds and wyrds world, and my world is Gospel and Woman, the Book of God and the Book of KRYSXTRYN.

I need to compact my writing: I need to simplify the Vision. I must become a fool for my God and for the Woman.

PKD: If what we possess in the form of a Book is actually the world, then what we experience as world is perhaps only a Book.

Book worlds and Book womans. Book words and Book wildernesses. Book wells and Book waters. I experience book in this well and water, in this water and woman, and woman lends me to Yahweh.

PKD: I suddenly realize what is necessary to apperceive Christ: some kind of runaway positive feedback loop involving paradox…

I runaway with paradox: the paradox of Christ, the contradiction of the Cross, the incomprehensibility of incarnation. The Paradox of my Christianity, melting antinomianism and Sabbateanism: the paradox (and heresy) of Yahweh and Woman: I live in paradox. I wish to live in the paradox of Christ. I wish to perceive Christ in my paradox, and my life unifies with Christ’s life, and Christ’s life proves to be a positive feedback loop that amplifies me to Adonai.

PKD: The flip-flop into infinity regresses faster and faster until at last the outline of Christ emerges…

The flip-flop into Flesh flashes lightning-fire and fire-light, the loom lifted in the dialectic weaving woman. Word weaves woman warns woman ways woman faster and faster into the letters and God Grammar, and Incarnation ignites infinity. Infinity ignites incarnation, an islet and island in Creation that manifests Christ and Christina: Christina and Christhood: Kingdom.

PKD: Hence the paradoxical nature of the parables: they constitute doorways to the Kingdom, rather than being descriptions of it.

Paradox: Parable: Person: the Person of Christ and the Son of Man Son of God. Paradox in Christ: Paradox in Christ: the story is in salvation: the story is the Woman, nativity and narrative. Pray paradox and pray person: pray Hail Mary and Our Father: the Son reigns in glory at the right hand of Father, Spirit and Flesh Flesh and Spirit: Three persons. Paradox, the nature of the names of God, and the names nurture divinity. The names nurture story, windows to the widow and door to dormition. Your Holy One will not see corruption. The Saints experience Kingdom in soul and Spirit.