Needlemouth - Room For Another
"Therefore, you watch these humans pretending to be gods and discovering their performances
are more like those of demons. And you see that the concept entities have of
a god is such that they see their god and themselves playing god by accusing others, by
judging others, by blaming others, by pointing the finger at others, by making others
feel inferior, by making others feel guilty, by stating: “You are to blame for this. You
should not do that. You should stop it. You are the villain. You are awful. You are
abominable. You are unworthy. You are not fit to perform in my presence. You are but
an abomination to my sight. You are rejected from my presence. You are not to speak
to me like that.”
These entities, believing that is the way a god feels and plays the role, feel themselves
to be in control, so long as others submit, and therefore these entities find
themselves as stars and super-stars and directors and super-directors—and the fact that
they are successful in the adoration of position, causes them to feel that they are correct
in their evaluation of the theater of life and of what a god is. And their performance
toward godhood, they believe to be such, that god has power enough to put down any
others who would threaten them, their stage, their role, their friends or their supporting
cast of thousands.
These entities having become stars within the theater, that all others seeing this kind
of performance also begin to emulate and imitate these leaders, accusing each other,
blaming each other, spouting hostilities, cursing toward each other, demanding the
other do their bidding—insisting that they are something special, above the other, and
that they need special gratifications.
There are many who do not play this game, who do not try to be gods, who do not wish
to dominate—and simply because they do not wish to play the game, find themselves
being servants to those who do. And that those actors who drop out from the theater of
the absurd suddenly find themselves as slaves—washing the feet, carrying the discards
of those who are kings, gods, queens and goddesses of the theater of the absurd. These
lowly entities—the meek, scrubbing the floors after the performance of the great kings,
scrubbing the dishes after the performance from the banquet table where the king vomited
in his dish and left it for the lowly housewife-maid to clean up, because she does
not see herself as being a queen, but simply as an entity. These lowly individuals, the
supporting cast of thousands of millions of billions who do not wish to play the game
any longer, are caught in a dilemma because they see no other way of performing in
the theater of life other than to perform as servants or as the absurdities of gods and
goddesses through the megalomania of power. Rejecting the power, they choose the
slavery.
At this point you begin to look about to discover if there is anyone who is writing another
script and if so, what kind of script would it be that could actually express what
you feel?
You wonder if there are any of those entities who are writing scripts to express what
they feel. Look at the various scripts and most of the scripts which are written are either
preaching toward others and telling them what they should feel, what they should
do, how they should do it, how they must behave in order to perform here, or are accusing
others of misbehavior, are blaming others, are threatening—or are scripts
requesting more, requesting more power, more props, more bombs, more planes, more
contribution to the theater of war, more for the games, more for the situation which we
must continue. You see these scripts echoing the same lines, the same reruns, using
different stars, using different players, but you do not see any scripts where the actors
are saying what they truly feel, within, about themselves, and about the theater, and about
each other. And when they do say something about each other, it usually is said as an
accusation of hostility toward the other.
You decide now that you are going to write a new kind of script.
[ Excerpted from: "Who, In Fact, You Really Are" by Cosmic Awareness ]
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