The Theater

"Come and see, and be part of the play of life tonight!"

Conveniently forgetting how curiosity killed the cat we came and entered the theater to take up our part in the play of life.

We signed the contract for our participation in the play of life forgetting to read the small print, and rushed in with great anticipation of this unique experience.

And so, as we entered the theater we walked unto a large stage.

On the stage there was a large variety of mirrors, every single one of them reflecting a distorted image.

Next to the mirrors there were rods.

If anyone did not agree with the image in the mirror, the rod came down and hit the dissident as often as was necessary to change the attitude from rejection into acceptance.

As we walked onto the stage we were obliged to wear suits.

These suits looked like clown-suits, the kind of garment associated with the joker in a card game.

These suits had strings attached to them.

Since the background of the stage was dark and we all were taken in by the sight of the new costumes none of us noticed the strings.

The more the strings were used, or the more you would fight the pull on the strings, the stronger they became.

The few who became aware of the presence of the strings could see them going up into the dark loft of the theater where unknown forces in the dark were manipulating the strings. 

Although we could not distinctly discern their shape we could definitely feel their presence in the dark unknown by the way they pulled on the strings. 

On stage there was a huge complex of wheels interacting with each other.

Each character was expected to take up its place in a wheel and spin it around.

We were assigned the task of being cogs keeping the wheels in motion.

Together the wheels were part of the contraption reaching up into the dark loft where we could only see the contours of a revolving wheel.

It was not possible to see exactly what function it had, but it was clear to everyone that we were the ones who were supposed to keep this wheel going round, and somehow this wheel was tied in with the play in the theater.

The wheels on stage are dangerous because once you get on one of them, it is hard to step off without injuring yourself.

Once they draw you in, their gravity pull makes it hard to escape from them.

You have to yank your way out of a wheel, and you usually end up falling flat on your face.

Some wheels have a greater gravity pull than others.

The pharmaceutical wheel is like a black hole devouring all those who get too close.

The medicine based solutions offered by the priests on this wheel claim to stretch the lifespan of those taking the medicine.

But if prolongation of your life means you have to be glued together by artificial means to keep you from falling apart, producing all manner of other problems in the process, then what is the point of living in that state?

Besides that, I found myself wondering what the point is of stretching your lifespan if it means prolonging the torture of being a living sacrifice in the service of the great big wheel of medical lies.

To make sure most of the actors on the stage are drawn in to the pharmaceutical wheel of magic, they are placed in an environment which is designed to make them ill.

They first have to create the string of need for medicine before they can draw people in.

And so, to the actors in this play poison is given for food.

Just as their bodies are fed with this deadly poison, their minds and spirits also are intoxicated by the poisonous atmosphere of the stage.

The mirrors show the actors a vision which presents the poisonous artificial food and medicine as good and constructive to the health of their bodies and their minds.

The poison does not kill them at once, but it begins to manifest itself over a period of years as the exposure to the toxin produces fruit after its nature.

Those who fail to comply with the reflection of their image in the mirrors all too often end up in correctional institutes.

If school did not work, and the workplace did not make them change their minds, then prison or a psychiatric hospital will force them into the position of cogs which keep the wheel moving around.

And of course the psychiatric hospital is just a subsidiary wheel of the greater pharmaceutical wheel.

All wheels are interconnected, even if they seem disconnected on the surface.

Once the actors step unto the pharmaceutical wheel, they are given masked medicine.

The medicine wears the mask of being a cure while in truth it obscures the symptoms and compounds the problem.

In that capacity medicine is just part of another corrupt mirror.

Once you stepped unto this wheel, it's impossible to escape unscathed.

It is not uncommon for people to leave this wheel only after they have deposited all of their life-energy in service of spinning this wheel around in endless circles.

They step on this wheel alive, but they are carried off the wheel in a wooden box.

But since we are replaceable, the mighty ones treat us as disposable commodities, fuel for their engine.

So if one cog is carried off stage in a wooden box, a new cog takes up its place.

As I was led across the stage, I noticed how most players started to identify with their suits and its strings.

They fully accepted the image which the mirrors reflected back at them and proudly wore the mask in the image of the mirror.

Because they now walked around in joker suits wearing an artificial mask which made them look compatible with the standards of the mirrors, their character and their hearts began to change in the image of the mirror, the mask and the fabric of their suits.

They could no longer see themselves as they were, for all of them wore glasses which were derived from the mirrors.

These glasses made it possible for them to accept and believe the image the mirrors reflected back at them as truth.

Oddly enough, whereas they might have had a vivacious glistening look in their eyes when they entered the theater, as they moved through the paces of the play their eyes began to change.

The vivacious look hardened and grew into a two-dimension flat wooden representation of what eyes are supposed to look like, as if someone painted eyes on the masks they wore.

As they grow into marionettes indistinguishable from their wooden counterparts, they receive a multitude of rewards on the stage in a great variety of ways.

They receive approval, encouragement, affirmation, awards, benefits, comfort, a place all for themselves on the big wheel.

It did not take long for me to experience my clown suit as a straightjacket, hindering me from being myself on the stage.

I did not feel at ease in this tight-roped straightjacket moving me in directions where I did not want to go.

Furthermore, whenever the mirror reflected back an image at me, I could see that this image was not a reflection of who I truly was.

Instead, I noticed the distortion and I rejected it as a true image because of the corruption in the image.

I refused to accept the image in the mirror just as I refused to wear the mask.

My refusal came with a price tag.

Because I failed to fit into the mold, I was hit by the rods of the mirrors many times, and they wounded me to the point where they crippled me.

I could no longer walk straight.

Since I did not function well as a cog, they put the label of failure on my suit, which made me eligible for more punishment due to my failure to conform.

I was amazed and saddened  when I realized how I had been part of a crowd of people entering the theater simultaneously, yet although we were alike in the beginning, the play of life somehow affected us to the extent that we became polar opposites.

How could they have forgotten who they were before entering the theater?

They do not just act out a part they are supposed to play, but they BECOME the part and change in the image of the part.

They move through the maze of mirrors and learn to become the mask they put on their heads for approval, taking up their place as cogs in the machinery of the great big wheel.

If a forlorn memory of their true face surfaces and stand in painful contrast with the mask they wear, the pharmaceutical wheel will send them the miracle cure to get rid of the pain and come to terms with their mask existence.

And coming to terms always means acceptance and being at peace with it.

I probably was the biggest failure on the stage of life, although I could see a few others who also were struggling with this play the same way as I was.

How can anyone accept the lies of the mirrors when you KNOW that they are just lies?

How could I wear a mask in front of my face and think of it as my own countenance?

I did not like this place.

It was full of lies and corruption.

Furthermore, those who worship the lie make life hard for those who love truth.

Additionally I became aware of how the strings maneuvered me towards a place on the big wheel where I did not belong.

I could feel the strings pulling on me, and whereas the others looked only at each other I began to look upwards to see how the strings worked, and who was pulling them.

As the strings weakened and I increasingly failed to take up my position as a cog on the stage, I was alienated even further from the scene of the stage, cashing in more punishment for my incompatibility.

I was forced to witness how the wooden servants of the lie were given prerogatives and all the means they could possible need, while those with skills and talents yet whose hearts are incompatible with the lie were forced to sit on the sidelines, all too often forced to work under the most adverse conditions.

The marionettes had no use for the means given to them because all they ended up doing is using the means as a contribution to the sacrifice of their life in service of keeping the great big wheel in motion, enticing other souls to follow their example and do likewise.

But, that is perhaps the very reason why they received the rewards: they worked in service of the great big wheel whereas I was simply a misfit, an obstruction.

I never gave much thought to the prerogative of living in a free world outside of the theater when I was still part of it.

In the real world we were not expected to wear masks or to wear suits with strings attached that force us in a certain direction.

We were free to go where we wanted to, we could have whatever we needed.

Maybe that was part of the life-changing experience in the play of life: to learn to look at real life with different eyes and a greater appreciation.

Maybe I should not have been too eager to sign the contract for participation in the play of life, maybe I should have bothered to read the small print.

But I have not, like the others.

So, what else can I do but act out my part in this theater of the damned?

To the degree that I am able to rid myself from the pull of the strings I am able to move freely.

I may be useless as a cog in the big wheel, but the shadows somehow need my presence as a stage prop in their circus.

That's the irony: because I am outnumbered by the marionettes I appear to them as an artificial stage prop which does not really have a part in the play of life.

But they cannot see that they are the ones who reduce themselves to props for the force of darkness by the choice they have made to conform and identify with the darkness.

This choice is what turns them into props on the stage of fools, surrendering their life to the shadows so that they can come alive and dominate the play of life, turning it into a dark and sinister play of death.

Yet the stage is changing.

I have noticed how the shadows are frantically moving around, re-arranging the stage and changing the setting, sealing off doors and shutting off windows so that the darkness increases and the remaining lights stands out in a far greater contrast than ever before.

The actors seem to merge with the part of being a marionette more rapidly than ever before.

I have never seen such a great number of flat, lifeless expressions on the faces I meet, as if the stage is being taken over by the walking dead.

The shadows are tinkering with the food on all levels, they change entertainment in explicit perverse ways, health-care is made over into death-care, the dark god of money literally rules over every aspect of the theater now, education is designed to propagate and enforce the acceptance of more lies than ever before.

Even the marionette costumes are tampered with genetically so that they literally can suck souls into the strings into the dark more efficiently and swiftly than ever before.

I also noticed that something else comes down through the strings, and the genetic modification of the suits is designed to facilitate and speed up the download of this dark blob flowing down the strings into the suits.

At first I thought that the forces of the dark were trying to prevent us from getting out of the theater, turning the theater into a big prison.

Yet now I realize they are not trying to keep us locked inside, but they are trying to prevent something or Someone from entering in.

It seems as if they plan to cut off this stage and the entire theater from the reality of life outside the theater.

Maybe the shadows are afraid of something coming onto the stage of life which will threaten their power structure and the play they set in motion.

Maybe they are afraid that a new play is to be set in motion on the stage which has been their playground all this time.

They cannot let that happen.

And so if the play must go, then the theater must go.

They are determined not to let anyone take over THEIR theater.