Monday, 12 August 2013

The Way We Are Becoming

Speaking of encounters - as I did in my last blog, earlier today (well, what has now passed into yesterday) - I am feeling drawn to share the gist of a film script that I wrote many yonks ago.  (Pardon the English - real English; UK English - expression.  It says 'it' the way I want to convey 'it'.  Perhaps because I made some modifications to the script whilst living in the UK - specifically, Scotland - and I want to give some credit where some credit is due.)  I'm not sure, precisely, why.  But I've learned to go with my instincts.  So here goes.

Actually, it's coming back to me that I have shared this here already.  So I'll just hit the high spots, and get to the ending, which is what I am particularly feeling drawn to share at this time; for, as I say,  whatever reason.

I titled the film 'When Seasons Come,' and it is - was - about a young American woman (standing for/personifying Innocent America) who has just graduated from university and, before heading for a vacation in (jaded old) Europe - there to hopefully sow some wild oats before coming back and settling down into her established-for-her middle-to-upper-class way of life - travels, by rickety and off-putting bus, crowded with lower-class 'types' (Ew), to a small seaside village in Mexico, there to meet up with her divorced? widowed? father for a quickie reunion before heading overseas.  What he is doing there is a bit of a mystery; he is ensconced with two other businessmen types in a small rented villa, who seem to be merely on holiday (they go out deep sea fishing and such), but that is obviously a front, for something else going on between them (corrupted new America).  Also present in the village, it turns out - as she saunters into it for a look-around - is an artist colony, run by a 'substantial' Latin American woman, and with mostly Latin American students, but with a (good-looking) late-thirtyish-early-fortyish American guy as her working assistant.  (He does maintenance and administrative things in exchange for his lessons.)

So: girl meets boy.  Boy doesn't pay any attention to girl.  Girl gets miffed by it, and presses her luck.  Boy finally gives in to her overtures; but only to the point of telling her that he would like to paint her.  Girl acquiesces; and under the near-equatorial sun, and sitting sessions with him, slowly morphs from a young innocent white American woman to a darker-hued, more subtle beauty (the changing America).

The plot thickens; she dies, at the hand of a young village woman who has had her own eye on this mysterious, private, taciturn American - different from the common herd - and it unsettles him, as if he were half-expecting something like this would happen if he gave in to get 're-involved' with the likes of young Innocent America, who just didn't know at that point how the world worked; to say, how corrupt it was.  He broods (including with beer); the colony mistress finally tongue-lashes him, to try to help him snap out of his 'frozen' spell; and he takes it as a sign to leave the out-of-the-way confines of the equivalent for him of a monastery, and head back out - to whatever.

It turns out to be to an encounter, just beyond the mountains that have separated him from the world that he had turned his back on,1 on a broad open expanse, with a being from elsewhere; having emerged from a UFO, and meeting him, as if a long-lost part of himself (his Higher Self, maybe??), the both of them coming back together, at this juncture in the great Round of Time.2  Which includes them then engaging - with the help of a lot of young people, who seem to appear out of nowhere (the new so-called Indigo children; who are 'into' telepathic communication) - in the building, with advanced lifting and cutting technology (as of old; to say, of the First Time, aka (the fabled) Zep Tepi), of a pyramid.


At one point (in further detail) he had told one of the students - an Iago-like character, but likable,3 who at the last moment decided to throw over his revolutionary cause and join him in his exodus, and who, during a rest break, in their climb through the mountains that have sheltered this Eden from the world, asked him what he wants to do - (a bit haltingly): "I'd like to be in on the building of a city..."

A City of Light.  Going up in the back of beyond.  On the American continent.  Imbued with the energies of both Gaia - of, more precisely, the Gaian experience - and something else.  From the corporeal realm, still, as well.  But nevertheless, a coming together.

Like twin souls.  Bringing the material experience - this stage of the universe's development - to a close.                    

On a high note.

To be sounded from a pyramid.

A place of Initiation.  Into the higher dimensions.

A place, where we are at.

As we speak.

For we are here to help with the Ascension process of the entire universe.  To apply the proper pressure on the appropriate fulcrum point.  And lift the entire mass into its energy equivalent.

A Grand Enterprise.  Whose Time has Come.



1 at the beginning of the film we had seen a line of anonymous American soldiers returning to a troopship from a war zone, among whom we are given to understand was our protagonist; who obviously was turning his back on that world by burying himself in the small out-of-the-way village in a different culture from his carrying one, and was coming back to a semblance of his innate creativity through the 'intervention' in his rustic Eden of the artist colony mistress

2 The shot of this meeting, from overhead, is like the coming together of two chromosomes in a cell, uniting, for metamorphosis to take place.

3 There has been the hint of revolutionaries amongst the art students, the more 'severe' of whom have wanted to bring our hero down, for his keeping them, by the sheer 'presence' of his incorruptible and quietly inspiring character, from being able to convert the village to their old-ways revolutionary cause. Our Iago-like fellow, though one of them, has had a secret admiration for this Gringo; and though he was involved in subtly bringing about the young American woman's death, and the consequent bringing down of our hero - whose name, not so incidentally, is Ray (the colony mistress calls him Raymundo.  The American young woman's name is Joyce.  As in Ray-Joyce, if they ever got together, and he was able to imbue America back with its founding principles, before it, too, got corrupted to the  point of no return; as symbolized by the Three Wise Guys, who are there, it finally appears, involved in a price-fixing scam) - he feels for the man.  Some deep empathy, and admiration, and contrition for what he has been involved in; sensing that he has been on the wrong side of things.

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