The Pearl Prophecies |
First Insight
I AM ARCHETYPE.
Not you, this has nothing to do with you. I am Archetype, ME, Pearl.
I am the Missing Archetype. Sort of like the missing link only better. Newly emerged and yet part of your collective unconscious since Time Imodium.
Archetypal ME
Second Insight
You CAN take it with you. Everything you possess turns astral and comes over when you croak.
So pay attention to what you stash and trash. It matters. Matter doesn’t matter but essence is everything.
Third Insight
We continue to age over here. But it’s not as you would expect from earthly experience. The aging process is not contingent on time. Changes are the accumulation of choices and experiences and judgments and influences and friends and lovers and accidents, etc.
It has nothing to do with the body breaking down because it doesn’t. But it does keep changing and, in most cases, you can easily tell by looking, how long a being has been boppin’ about….except in the case of Buddhists and porpoises and Shar-peis and anything Finlandian.
Fourth Insight
Fifth Insight
It is not coincidence that you now have need of the very item you recently discarded. It is the law of cause and effect. It is BECAUSE you threw it out that the need for it arose. So be of good cheer and do not berate yourself for lack of foresight. Had you not rid yourself of the item, you would have no need for it now and it would still be cluttering your life.
Sixth Insight
Early Life:
A. When in doubt, don’t.
B. Whatever you are pretending to be, you probably are.
C. What others are saying about you, is probably true.
Later Life:
A. When in doubt, go ahead. Let’s see what happens.
B. Whatever you are pretending to be, Stop it.
C. What others are saying about you, is irrelevant.
Seventh Insight
That third party in your mind isn’t real.
Eighth Insight
In response to the question: Is Earth the only location in our galaxy where life exists? If not, how far is the closest?
The closest location is Etherea and it’s less than a breath away. Anybody who was anybody is here and can see and influence everything you do and think. Like now.
Oh, stop showing off. It may take you a while to get used to this idea and relax. But you will. Those activities that embarrass you most tend to bore us to distraction. But most of us retain an avid interest in food and, as often as not, your food choices are not entirely your own.
As for other locations, sure. Inner, inter, and exter galaxy. But it’s always the same beings being recycled and re-purposed hither thither and yon. There is nobody new under whatever sun happens to be out or not.
Ninth Insight
Do not debate the form when you crave the content.
Pay ME |
Guess what -you can GIVE ME MONEY!
Arts & Music |
Make it one for my baby, and one more for the road…
Herstory |
Baby ME
Once upon a time, there was a wild squirrel named CHCK CHK CHCK, who gave birth to ME, chk. I was a spring baby.
The first time out of the nest, wouldn’t ya know, something really bad happened to my back leg and CHK CHK CHK took me to this House of Nuts she knew and barked and barked and banged on the window until a weird witchy hermit came out and just scooped ME off the fence. It was shock at first sight.
Something called ‘bonding’ happens. I don’t like it. You don’t like it. It’s demeaning, but it happens. So the big pink weird witchy hermit, who shall henceforth be known as Pink Mama, or PM, wrapped ME up and delivered ME to a gas mask and, when I got back to the Nut House, the dangling mangled mess that had been my leg was gone.
Quelle douleur. Quelle souffrance
Pearl knows pain. Wisdom does not come easy, my fans.
Once my socket was healed, PM tried repeatedly and zealously to return ME to CHK CHK CHK, who still came around for the free nuts. But nope, nothin’ doin’. “Yours now, lady. Pass the pecans”. My natural mother was not a sentimentalist.
So PM tried repeatedly to pass ME off to other humans who cared for ’special’ squirrels. They tried. But nope, nothin’ doin’. I refused to thrive, by cracky. So PM took ME back and started believing that I loved her. Ha ha hahaha. My unnatural mother IS a sentimentalist .
She named ME Pearl.
Word to the wise~ Don’t name anything you don’t want. To name it is to tame it.
PM is forced to learn A LOT about looking after squirrels and get a license. There are squirrel protective services who come around to check. I kid you not. I think of them as the ill eagles who swoop down to make sure PM is not dressing ME inappropriately.
O.K., yada yada yada, time goes by, bored bored bored…
AND THEN First Love;
a brief sally into the demimonde with a squirrel named Stockton DuPres, but, alas, he turned out to be gay.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Then came Sam. Love of my life, Sam ‘the teeth’ (see Pearl’s Pals). He was an Eastern Gray with ties to Sicily and serious ‘family connections’, if you get my drift.
Our PM’s became co-dependent out of self protection. You can purchase Sam’s mom’s Squirrel Ranch Spreads through the GIFTS page of this site. And, as always, you can donate to ME by clicking any one of the beautiful buttons provided for this purpose. But I digress…
Sam and I were fated to never meet on the earthly plane although our incendiary love letters are soon to be self-published.
It’s different here. We met up and jumped the broom, then served it at the reception. Sam’s over the ledge now, pitching popcorn at the dog.
Gottcha!
We spend most nights at home, gnawing scrabble and making plans to expedite a visit from the in-laws.
They don’t respond to simple invitations because changing planes is “too inconvenient”. They have “too much to do first” and nyah nyah nyah. So we’re surprising them by subsidizing the trip.
to be cont…
Click for PDF: May-19-10-MEpearlPressRelease