We are living in purgatory.

We keep repeating the same mistakes. Our lives are based in the physical with little consideration given to the spiritual plane. We are reincarnated over and over, forever stunted in our spiritual growth and have forgotten (or have been made to forget) our past which would enable us to evolve to higher states of awareness.

When we die we face the light at the end of the tunnel. This, we believe, to be our redemption. But it is a trap which sends us back to Earth once again. False hope to recycle our misery. The approaching light is symbolic of the birthing canal and signals our re-emergence into the world.

I recalled the final images before dying.

Three separate occasions in different bodies.

Once, of a beautiful blue sky as I lay fallen on the grass bank with a fatal shot to my abdomen. The second, when I was drowning, the prism of water I peered up from, struggling on my final breath and seeing a castle wall – emblem displayed on a regal yawning. A third, with a wife and young daughter, led by a mercenary to be executed. Each time, my soul and awareness was the one true north – consistent and unmistakably, me. Three men. All me.

Death is painless. Ultimately, the moments before death. Painless. Peaceful. There is a beautiful gap of awareness there. On the cusp of passing. I recalled scenes of graphic, brutal beatings. Beaten bloody and senseless but at that precise moment, when my soul was about to leave – awestruck by its beauty that transcended anything on a physical level. If only everyone knew. It’s nothing to be feared.

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The world as we know it is a prison construct that has been built for the mind and entraps your soul. A cage for your senses. We are debased and preoccupied with the physical. Mired in the daily struggle and fruitless pursuits. How many more lives will we lose before we screw our heads on and ascend to Paradise?

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I saw behind the black veil. Only briefly. I wasn’t allowed to look directly at THEM but I snatched a glance while I wasn’t being observed. I saw only one profile. Snow white face, blonde and beautiful. Cold. Laughing at the underlings as she toasted with the others. Laughing at the bottom-feeders that support them. Keeping them in power. Those they shackled in chains and bondage. We have come to love our prisons. Serving our masters as they drain our lifeforce and exalt off our ignorance. Tis bliss to them. Or as close as, for they know not ecstasies in the conventional sense. Only a deeper primeval hunger which is never satiated. It drives them crazy with lust.

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The more we root ourselves in the physical, the more we play into their hands. We need to break free. Unshackle the mind or we’re lost and doomed to return and repeat the same cycle but in a different vehicle. Awareness will only come – if it even comes at all – too late, and the lessons learnt will be forgotten. Wiped. Rinse, repeat.

Old souls. Even in children. Clearly they’ve been here before. But have they advanced spiritually, or just intellectually?

Souls have been sharpened. Made to fit in tight little bodies.

What if it’s a trap? Light at the end of the tunnel. The matrix. The ‘other’ voice that isn’t really us. The program. Awareness dispels it. But only if we have cultivated enough awareness during our time here.

That’s one of the reasons why we’re put here. This structured order clearly has a higher power. It also has a polar opposite. We are working in the lower realms until we break free. That’s on US. We’re stuck – possibly for millennia – until we grow in awareness.

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The books. Give them all away for free.

The soul keeps score. Always. Tapping into what fires your soul. THAT hurts them. THAT connects with divinity and source – something they cannot access. It drives them out. They thirst for it, but it is incompatible with them. They choke on it. They get it indirectly by feeding from us. It’s how they survive and how they’ve managed to gain the upper edge. Their deviousness knows no boundaries. Only those in high vibration can dispel their darkness with the light of awareness.