Extract taken from 'The Chronicles Of Ezra' written by Matthew James
"The voice of the source provides hints and clues to our ancestry. In visualisations, my consciousness hast often wandered to the heavens and the stars. I hast connected with other life forms and from them I glean the story is much the same. We bear thus the same origin in this universe. There are ,many universes. Our universe is a child. It grows through all of its collective experiences. This fall of man be one of the many experiences. We are one with the other parts of the universe. Our universe be one thought. One essence.
One consciousness which somehow exploded into billions of separate parts. Know our total consciousness still expands. And it be part of one much mightier consciousness that too has somehow exploded. We are such a tiny part of the overall design but by being a part we be as important as all the other collective parts.
And we are powerless like driftwood on a mighty cosmic ocean. We cannot control something we cannot comprehend; are not meant to comprehend. It be a daunting thought, but what is beyond existence? What was the cause that began it all? What was there before the beginning? What sparked off existence? What is beyond it all? How can there be nothing and then something form out of that nothing? How can it be?
I am mystified and curious. I declare existence to be such a wondrous thing I wouldnt truly change a single thing. For all is meant as it is.
We be Ezra and we be in the modern day in human terms. We be heading to a future that mankind cannot comprehend. We be part of an entity that denies itself its true past and wonders how its present time be in such a mess.
And we know it no to be pure chance that we hast incarnated this time. At this moment in human history. We are part of the damned - an organism deceived by itself; an entity that is sadistic, gaining pleasure in hurting itself. Belial is most surely raging out of control. It needs help. It needs love. It needs compassion. It needs to realise and see where it went wrong.
We can be that voice. We can be that light. For we are here for all.
Dark denies itself the truth
and can never forgive
Light knows the truth
and can only forgive
Magic is returning. The vibration is lifting. More and more of the human young grow restless and bored. More and more rebel; grow uncontrollable. They sense the time of the light is at hand. For in the adult world the vibrational shift is not something seen; for Belials regime hast all the elders lost in a never ending circle. They have no time for leisure and re-programming of the mind. No time for spirituality or the truth. They are side stepped by the smokescreens cast by the agents of Belial. But the children - they only have time on their hands. They have yet to be subjected to the rigours of mind control. They see and sense and hear and know.
They grow impatient with the adult world for not listening.
Soon, the adult world hast to listen. Soon the shock waves shall shake and the tidal waves shall drown. Mankind hast to listen. And as Ezra we know it to be in this our latest life time.
We must surely report and witness once more. For that be how it hast always been. Seemingly nothing hast changed.
We report the continuing denial of the return of our brothers. Belialian agencies shall not admit to the visitors from the sky. But we, Ezra, know the truth. We know our lost brothers are now among us. They appear the same as you and I for they be of the same ancestry and evolution as you and I. They left the planet eons before to escape Belial. They were those exiles from off our world. They too hast forgotten the art of mental projection. Their new home worlds advance beyond this worlds technology. They hast the means to travel from world to world. Pity Belialian agents wont admit this truth. For surely they must know.
The sightings hast for many human centuries been reported. In all the ancient writings they hast been written down. The gods of the sky. They came from the sky. They visited our worlds. Mankind must be seen as foolish to think it can be so easily deceived. There is too much evidence all around for it to be anything other than visitors from other skies.
But we warn ye now, Belial hast strongholds below thy feet. Within those strongholds the technology of our lost cultures survive. Ancient crafts of the sky and of space. Mind controlling gadgetry and other technology too advanced for mankind to ever imagine.
Mankind ye be deceived - Belialian agencies teach ye thy latest civilisation be the most advanced mankind hast ever been. They deceive ye. They hast destroyed the links and the documents which contradict their claims. Know they lie. Atlan was by far more advanced than anything since but even Atlan is but a shadow of what there hast been on this world.
This world hast been used by the source as a teaching ground countless times. Like a blackboard it canst be cleaned and used again with no trace of all the last times.
Mankind ye be but one in a long line of genetic experimentations. Ye are not the first and ye shall not be the last.
The gods made the garden
And made children and watched them play
They grew tired of their chores
So turned their children into slaves ...
Then their children bore children
and their children bore children
the separation had begun
The children turned their backs on the gods and all hope was gone.
And to ease thy mind, mankind, know many other worlds come to save. Come to aid ye in thy darkest hour. Races of beings have arrived and now mingle among ye; races who hast the experience of what hast befallen ye. Races that know how to undo the knots Belial hast tied around thy consciousness. And it is a comforting thought for us; the vehicle of the universal source. For it helps our task all the more.
We are not alone
We are combined as one complete
But other ones exist in infinity
All seeking others
For all are one
A total one
The mighty one that hast split
Must rejoin again
We are Ezra. We are one entity living behind any different faces in the modern day. We are compelled to write; to record; to report. Thus this chronicle has been written. Like it once was many eons before. Once it always shall until the end of this chapter. Until the time comes there is no need.
We are Ezra, and our task has begun once more. As it was once agreed so it shall be once more. And though we face further ridicule and death, we cannot deny our face. Our truest identity. We hast a simple role to play. To teach the children of the one the simple truth. To lead them back to the ways of the one. To lead them from the path that Belial had them trek; the path of illusion under the light of the moon. The sickness cast into their minds must surely pass but only when they can see the illusion they have had thrust in their minds.
We are Ezra as one. Those souls who met and then scattered in ages past. As single faces we live in the modern day. Powerless and insignificant. Simple paupers living the best way they can. Becoming aware now of a birthright; of a part in a mighty legacy. They come now aware there is more to their psyche than meets the eye. They come now to realise they are not like those around. There is something nagging their deep in their mind.
A voice of reason speaks. An urge to speak out against the suffering they see builds. But they are powerless. They are not granted any part of Belials power. And the more they attempt to succeed in the material world, the more it runs away from them. The more they make sense of the mess around, the more confusing it all becomes.
Already they have the voice of the source speaking to they. Reminding they. Filling their minds with strange visions and dreams. Disturbing it will be to they for nobody around them can explain or realise what it is they bear.
For they are the teachers unaware living in the fields of the pupils. Seeking answers that only they can give. For in finding the answers they can explain to the pupils the meaning to it all. They can illuminate the lie and bring falsehood to its knees; but only when they combine.
In truth they are the guardians and the guides of the legacy incarnated; versed in prophecy and reporting. They are the chosen. On the earth to be ready for when the time of the darkness comes to a close. There to witness it all - the flooding; the shaking of the earth; the demonic winds; the killings; the famine; the catastrophes - all manner of things.
They cannot judge for they understand why. Mankind is too many in number - total separation is almost upon ye.
In groups they meet. As one they shall think. For that is how it once was and that is how it shall be.
And I, Ezra, am here too. Part of that mighty one. I am incarnated. Alive behind another face again. Realising and witnessing it all. Living a material sham. Seeing all the other facets of man suffering in ignorance. Taught by the religion of Belial that death is final. That from this world you pass and wait until a judgement day to be reborn again. Forced to accept the teachings of god - a god portrayed as cruel and selfish. A god that is non-existent for its rules are nothing more than those of men.
The Sons Of Belial are in control.
They rule this earth. They run the governments, the monarchies; the banks; the religions. They say and that is the way it goes. They have the technology to control mankind en-masse. I know for I too feel the illusionary voices in the back of my mind. I feel the moonlight tentacles that come at night and promise more illusion. More of the same.
Mankind is easily fooled for it knows not how to lead itself. It needs other to give instruction; direction. It can no longer make choices for itself. It spends too much time seeking second opinions form all around. It has completely disattached itself from the source. This forms the basis of my report.
I am Ezra, and I exist behind a face in the modern day. I am appalled by the state of affairs. But my choice is to remain to see it through. To regain back immortality if that is the will of the source; or to return back to the legacy or beyond, if that too is the will of the source.
But I am Ezra; a part of the one ; a part of the vehicle of the Universal Source. My eyes be its eyes now surely. Together we witness it all.
My chronicles are alive once more. My role as scribe rekindles. That part of my consciousness has surfaced once more. I know behind other faces I once lived and breathed. But their crimes and their deeds be no longer important. Their memories reside on the tree. They live there for eternity for all of creation to see.
I am merely a tiny facet; a tiny fragment of a gargantuan crystal. I am insignificant; I make no sense of this alive around me. For I am not meant to know. I be merely here to witness; so those of the legacy can see.
I still awaken. I still rub the sleep from my eyes. I still recollect those ancient memories and make sense of what I am and what has befallen me in all the ages since. In time these realisations will form part of the chronicles too. But until then I can only wait. "