Does anyone else sense a large-scale shift in consciousness?

I just get the sense that many minds are changing and opening - at a rapid rate - and will result in a collective awareness of the unity of things (much like the hippies of the 60s) that could lead to a paradigm shift in the way lives are led in America in the years to come.

Or maybe every generation has felt like this, and its nothing more the same evolution of things that occurs during every decade.

Or maybe I've done too many drugs.

Any thoughts?

 

Somewhat.
But there is definitely disparity from individual to individual, as there always will be.

 

I'm part of this shift. In less than 2 years I have completely changed the way I view everything. I hear a lot of people saying the same, moving towards a more aware consciousness.. aware of life, themselves, spirituality, open mindedness. Its growing.

 

God creates Monkey, Monkey eats a mushroom, Monkey hears the voice of God. Monkey See Monkey Do. Monkey becomes Man. Man eats a mushroom, Man hears the voice of God. Man uses the voice of god. Man wants power, man gets delusional and uses the voice of God. Man kills Man for Worshipping Mushroom. Man Creates God...... Man Rediscovers Mushroom. Man hears the voice of God. Man spreads the voice of God. Man slowly realizes, Consciousness creates the voice of God, Voice of God manipulates Matter. Man Becomes God.

 

I can't say I do.

 

nope..

 

i think not my friend, you might draw like mined people towards you, tho the numbers dont lie, and the media brain washes way to manny people from a n early age, maby 10 years with out powere maby then, who nos enjoy peace

 

it doesnt mean jack shit unless it begins to effect change, and the only people who can effect change are people who want to lock up or kill or enslave most people on hip forums. We are ruled by our most hated.

 

i kind of do...psychedelics are coming back again, and i'm happy about it.

i feel optimistic...though that could be the accidental threshold dose of lsd my friend's tree accidentally took a few hours ago

 

what is life? flo, is the source of the cowbell that brings dessert, the dessert of freedom of no mind from no intention and happening in stance for application in a quasi relative tree called life, the arden wind blows here, why?
silent knowing, poem reading in dark in naked stars
with things, ashes, distilled water bottles, from deer park, the significant, ocean in my heart on the frame of the couch where my sister slept. She was me as I was dreaming, days and nights in the real world, grass and willows and a whole open field where we ran, and made ourselves things from the clouds and the branches
the crickets still sing and what do they feel I ask, opening colors in my own book, lasting until the hill returns
back, back to the bottom of the heights where we lived, and gave things their faces surrounding us, us saying no people and nothing, us being replaced me, why? they fall on couches, they roam in houses, they are blown away, and again, my heart beats to the rhythm of the world, and the world is my soul reflected, moving me through dreams, pulling me closer by the seams by some dramatic clause, in this play on this stage, that is default that is forgotten, and returning every time to the memory of the story that he told me when I sat there
by the fire
hearing crickets
in the ether
blowing
invisible air
through pockets
of dry wheat
like an oars person who'd seen the light from the tunnels
and become a reflection, love flows
in every month on forgettings
your systems have show their insanity, we face the sky
I was high with butterflies dancing and it nourished the alphabet soup
that had spilled over the ground
again, you were there, quietly waiting, smiling and your eyes were pretty
when I remembered
the moon
the clearing, around us
everywhere, there was singing
we weren't here before
the mushroom ring where these spirits come
to join us in a metaphor
nothing like a good metaphor
to take you to the core
of an apple that is very poor
and rich like two men
who cannot see the simplicity
in being just dead.
alive, is the fretting bird
alive, is the roaring day.. and blazing sun and superstition
falling into your dreams that leave your fancies unwinding
like hunger without a thought of food
I love Flo she is the best

it all composed in the mess of your cities and defined in the den of your rooms
and left in a nomads heart, who only sways in every way
the pull could take him
unregistered magic mama, this is where I was born
the water I sipped at the roots of the hemp plant
I was a fairy, I was secretly the sun and moon
and telling every moment in bloom
she is the lark, the song they sing
one last time
and
one more time
in the subway, that looks like a cigarette, that brings us back to your center
where you appeared flung from everywhere
pomo child, now I remember.

and there is nowhere to go but still we will make it there
everything is possible
following heart and dreams in ness
on a wanti picnic table, where the ants came once to feast
delusional and mad love God gave us
made real
runoac and sitting log
sayaizen, sayaizen
made it real home in our souls
yonato, water bowls and the formless reaching far into our lives
in every word on all the trees and doorway portal upto slinks through them all saying
i am a poem of you

 

Oh something is definitely happening, something is moving behind the curtains. So many lies you can't tell what is actually happening, what is fabricated, and what is a planned scenario to provoke a public and psychological reaction.

And I can't really tell you where its headed, no one knows and theres way too many variables for me to try to call my guess a prediction. If I were to make a guess, I'd say it looks like society is wearily stumbling on its legs that are in no shape to hold up its bloated body. Just one little slip is all it'll take...