Listen to the Quiet Revelation

I have just sent a few messages to people on a room find website.  I now wait for the Irish to come through.  I feel the clock ticking in my community.  I write as a way to deal with stress, but also to confront the energies that concentrate me on a feeling of hopelessness.  I found a being who will now be good at telepathy in a way he has never been before.  There are bridges and streams that deliver joy.  Drama can be pushed away, and delicate inconsistencies can be pointed out in someone's head.  I am he, or is he me?  I am there for you, or is this a CODE BLUE?  I use words to sculpt a picture that can be reality after years of suffering in silence.  I am the one that dogs come to to speak when they have outlearned their owners in dangerous settings.  Cambridge, I call upon you to do the do.  It is time to be out the back door.  Ireland can be taken away by Bashier's library today.  The imaginal of Harry Potter is about to hit The Middle East in a real way.  Sand can become GLASS in an instant, and a camel can speak as all entities look for the one Arab Vampire.  Our meeting was serendipity and he was kind to me and he spoke to me of his kingdom in Amman, Jordan.  He can now speak for me, as I cloister and drop into silence and observe the beat of Irishmen's feet on the street.  Casual relief to relate to a bird in midmorning can be a plenty supple thing.  The interweavings bring a need to be precise.  Confusion is that which is too overdone today.  Abbra Cadaver dogs are sadly needed today as a new Emporer is crowned in Japan an earthquake hits the whole body of his evidence that is not the sea.