Brain Paint ACar
T.D. Lingo's Bedtime Story

Bedtime Story


Once upon a time, a beautiful infant was born smilingly onto winking Earth, destined to grow into full potential. What was the infants name?

As the sunshiney days passed into years, that growth progressed deliciously. Into childhood. Child discovered all the given magics of daily sensitivities; all the natural wonders of fingies and toesies and window and flowers and trees and birdies and cloudsies. And stars. Yes, mostly of twinkling , whispering blue stars.

What else did Child discover in daily flow to create emotions of gorgeous joy and endless fulfillments? But soon, too soon, child stumbled into adolescence. Confusion. Do you remember? describe:

No one, no adults, had answers to the questions of idealistic teenaged existance. Worse yet, No adult taught tender Teener that 3 Ultimate Questions now HAD TO BE ASKED (and answered!):

1. Who am I?
2. What is Life?
3. Where am I going in this one chance at Life?

Such cold dirty underwear confusion made the final transition into masked adulthood, becoming a mixture of unsatisfied "PIES" (physical-intellectual-emotional-spiritual) stumblings. During young adulthood, what was the most painful physical thing? The most hurting intellectual thing? The deepest suffering emotional experience? The most dangerous spiritual deprevation?

And so it came to pass. Young adult did clean out all those rotting memories. Brain was cleansed. Genetic drive---DNA---restarted. Genetic intelligence caused re-circuiting through all those brain cells which were deadened during infancy and childhhod and adolescence. Cosmic consciousness flowed through all those again alive singing circuits to generate progressively spectacular new intelligence and gorgeous creativities and divine ecstacies.

Then one day it happened. Transcendence. consciousness broke beyond the final barrier of neurosis. Consciousness flooded into the dormant frontal lobes---the entire numb forehead. Nirvana happened. Automatically.
Adult lived happily ever after.

Shall this be you?


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