War Stories


{Not to be Read in Rehab}
Now Could I get some translators on board to switch up this script to Martian in order for this message to be reached at its apex.
I have received some inferences by way of transmission that led me to believe one such embassy in the Yorkshire of pneumatic presses has been under influence by the program of which one kid has been able to receive.
That kid is (me), and somehow I heard there may have been a bit of a scuffle due to misinterpretation at the place where we make peace.
These suite places are meant to keep our assets safe, and as such, they should not be disturbed if they are simply playing on their phones, or texting their relatives, and they should definitely not be considered anything less than friendly if they have just arrived by plane.
I am writing this in English because I then won’t have to worry about the necessity of translating for others that speak in oppositions.
Don’t take me too seriously, but for real, this manner of taking our time with urgent matters is a waste of intelligence if you can’t speak through your spirit. Quit killing our favorite guides like those with two spirits, and maybe we will find a way to come to a level of peace that we all really want.
My voice is translated through my spirit, which is indeed universal, so if you had to translate the meaning of love through a different manner, well I’d suggest you go left on the fork in the road or learn how to connect to the earth.
It doesn’t require religion.
It doesn’t require much more than training the militant approach of “defense” out of your war torn corpses.
I know, you’re dead inside, that is what war does to us.
That’s ok, you’re closer to heaven than most, you’re closer to the beginning than you are to the end.
This is how we must approach those with Post-traumatic stress disorder.
Treat them like they have already died, then bring them back to life with your love. With your caring thoughts, with your understanding of how you may never know what it feels like to die….every damn day that you saw war before your eyes. Understand that just because you were never in the war, that you will cater to the soldier that came back. That you will bring them back to heaven on earth, this place that is protected from war, this place that is better because the war is over.
There is much to learn in a world, a galaxy, a universe without war….and that is that some tribes, some groups will always need a war. There is a battle-cry within us that makes the perfect utopia impossible, or at least improbable. That battle-cry has a thirst for a drink of…well you know…but that’s what I came here to tell you. I am saying that blood-lust, it could be simulated for those that need a war.
They can play their war-games on their droning battle wraiths that act like ghosts in the mainframe upon this system.
That game is just that, a game for the war-pigs, who feast on apples from the forbidden tree or something of that nature.
Its not that biblical, its not that recognizable, and not everybody believes in Christ, so I won’t be the one to tell them that Christ has nothing to do with this.
But what brought you here?
Your spirit?
Your battle-cry?
Your well-wishing?
How many penny’s did you wish on?
How many stories did you tell that brought you to the oracle?
What else do you need to hear?
That you have nothing left to fear, no more flash-backs to the wars, its over…stop. And now for our next orderly program, take a chirp from the crickets on the line.
© TaurianTorus

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