"The Resurrection Plan"
The Bull Has Been Provoked and the Dead Must Reap Their Harvest
This is the second part to an earlier story called I Was Dead. I strongly recommend reading that piece before this one.
I have no records after the round trip to Bolton until December 20. Not even in my dream journal or active imagination log. Nothing. I became totally disillusioned with my work, because it became gibberish to me.
I can’t even say I believed in God anymore. I don’t mean I lost faith. I did, but that was just a symptom. The “illness” was that I could not imagine God. I reverted back to the “magical man who lives in the sky” image and was unable to believe in it.
I still had most of the theological knowledge I now possess but it did not connect to any intuitive or imaginative substance. I could have told you that God was not a magical man in the sky, but that’s all I knew how to picture.
I really want you to think about this because that’s extremely severe memory loss. That was the way I thought about God as a child, and the version of God I rejected as an adolescent until my Jordan Peterson phase about eight years ago.
How could so much mental infrastructure be dismantled in just a month?
Don’t think it couldn’t happen to you.
I was cynical, spiteful and bitter after Jane. Something dark took root in me and festered. I was cold and hostile to everyone and full of self-hatred. My jokes got meaner. I had no spontaneity. My world was dead. I became anxious and reclusive and I could only remember things that happened recently — not very well either. I grew to dislike praying and lacked any real spiritual impulse.
A close friend of mine became frustrated with me, because I did not remember things I knew about her. Things she had told me and our inside jokes. I no longer listened to her very attentively. She claimed I made her uncomfortable now and angrily told me: “you’re not you anymore!” She began to avoid me in November.
It’s tradition now for me to take LSD on December 21 — “great conjunction day.”
My parents’ cottage where this was done in the past had recently been torn down, so I booked an Airbnb in Niagara for the occasion.
I recorded one active imagination session from the day before. It was the only time I heard from Zell after Jane showed up.
December 20th, 2023
While washing the dishes, Zell spoke up and told me that although I thought little of my recent conduct, I had far exceeded expectations that had been set for me.
At this I shook my head and said: “no, you’re just telling me what I want to hear.”
“Have I ever?” she asked.
I undertook a quick session.
I appeared in the center of the maze where four corridors conjoined. We descended into a dark staircase.
At the bottom of our descent was a cramped little chamber and a black curtain. When I pulled back the curtain, there was a skeleton that fell out, startling and disturbing me. I saw that he was in a booth standing over an obsidian cube.
Whatever he was doing with it seemed to be controlling a projector which shone into a theatre now visible to me. It was empty and I saw a black and white countdown which became footage of a deformed face laughing in slow motion speaking in a language I didn’t understand.
Then I saw corpses being puppeted on a stage like marionettes. The things puppeting them seemed to be the animal characters from Five Nights at Freddy’s and this image was very solid and persistent. I saw the bear grinning on the screen at the end. This is peculiar as I never think about that game and never played it.
Zell is plainly gesturing at teleological or psychic death, but at that time, I had no concept of this. The next night, I went to the Airbnb.
For whatever reason, I didn’t like it. Something in me was inexplicably revolted and upset by the house almost as soon as I entered. It seemed too “profane.”
I became afraid the police would find me or that the owner would know I was taking drugs there. Despite having paid three hundred dollars for the night, I walked back out, locked the door and began driving home.
I would do Great Conjunction Day in my basement. Anything was better than that place. I had no good reason for this strange aversion.
“It’s not right,” I said in the car. “It doesn’t feel right.”
Looking back now, I seemed bizarrely agitated and irrational. It wasn’t ideal, but by any sensible standard, the basement in the house I live in is worse in every way. That the AirBnB was not “sacred” enough or that I might be found out were simply the most plausible excuses to leave. If these had not worked, the mindworms would have kept protesting until something connected and persuaded the rest of me.
After twenty minutes, once I was nearly home. A totally different thought process regained control, turned the car around and began heading back to the Airbnb. I’m pretty sure I almost turned around again on the way there.
Once inside, I quickly took the LSD before anything could convince me to leave again. Once I’d taken it, I would not be able to drive and would have to stay.
Nothing particularly insightful or interesting happened for a long while. I just put on some music, saw some visuals and thought some weird thoughts. Overall, it was quite disappointing. Perhaps it really wasn’t the right place.
Then, I stepped into the kitchen, and I looked out a window above the living room. My eyes held on Skylon Tower which was plainly visible from where I stood.
“Here,” I said for no good reason. “Right here. Right here.” I started jumping up and down and waving at the tower. I did not know why, it seemed almost automatic.
“Right here! I’m over here! Right here!”
Then I felt some vast invisible thing approaching from the tower hover into place above my head. It seemed to have a kind of gravitational field. It gave me chills and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
At once, something shot up my spine and back into my head. My imagination lit up like a Christmas tree, everything swelled until the world seemed gigantic and my ego shrank down to a more appropriate size.
What looked like barely perceptible translucent overlays in my field of view suddenly aligned and the world filled with colour, detail and light. My eyes seemed to refocus on something farther away. My depth perception intensified. This was so sudden and so startling that it made me dizzy and I had to steady myself.
In my mind’s eye I saw a translucent red sphere. Then four more concentric spheres appeared around it one after another: orange, yellow, turquoise, blue. Five total.
I stared dumbfounded at the Tower and remembered standing with Zell at the top of the Watchtower in the World Above the World.
Zell points a finger at a spot in the distance. Several of the cubes flock to the place she pointed, congregating in a frenzy above the monoliths there. Strange lights begin to swim through the air around them.
She says: “look for me, listen for me and I will be there.”
Then, I hear her speak once again, just as clearly as ever.
“Get the camera.”
I grab it from my bag, turn it on and hit record. I didn’t even know enough to film in log back then. Notice the song that was playing at the time:
It’s only then that I start to see for real again and two very conspicuous signs hidden in plain sight jump out at me right away.
We were back.
When I finally get my bearings and process what’s just occurred, I look back out the window at the Watchtower.
“I was dead,“ I say. I don’t even know what I mean yet. “He killed me. I was dead.”
I put on Chesnokov’s To Thee We Sing and tried to piece together everything that had taken place out of the fragments.
It seemed clear that all of it was a perfectly-plotted master plan to reveal the nature of the mind and the world in which I lived.
I had been trapped in a hallucination and cut off from the source of everything I was. My own psyche was turned against me — made into a veil occluding the world I could see before. It was like being in a dream, and you rarely question the logic of a dream or lack thereof when you’re in one.
Just as I had been, Jane was dead. Bateman was dead too. How many others? How often did things like this happen? It was surely happening all the time. If my case was anything to go by, it was surely organized and happened systematically, hidden in plain sight. Archons puppeting the dead around like chess pieces, breaking their minds and trapping them in dream worlds. How high up did this go?
I was shown a blue pyramidion with an eye which was also a watchtower. This was some kind of receptor at the summit of my awareness which corresponded to this fifth shell. The Artifex had disabled it, rendering me unable to constellate.
However, when I was “revived,” I saw four shells turn back on, not just one.
The night with Jane, the Artifex took control of the fifth, which frames the meaning of events and relates them to each other at the highest level of abstraction — it creates metanarratives. During my time with Jane, he then made swift work of the fourth, then the third and then the second.
In effect, this entity had full control of my thoughts and perceptions except at the lowest level of abstraction — the first shell. This one (in Zell’s schema) models reality only at the most immediate, directly perceptible level.
This loss of the outer shells is why I could only remember things that happened recently. It’s why my reasoning and impulse control were impaired. It is why I could only imagine God the way I did as a child, because consciously, I was a child. The more mature, abstract layers of myself were not conscious — they were dead.
I don’t know how Zell did it, but I know it was all plotted well in advance. I found veiled allusions to these strange stratagems long after their almost silent execution.
August 11, 2022
She took me then to a tower and said there was a clock at the top and told me to fetch it. I found a silver pocket watch having ascended the spiral staircase. But when I looked around, the forest was a desolate wasteland. The trees were scorched, the Earth bare. There were bones and skeletons. A lone city stood in the distance. It looked grim.
Zell said: “a great fire is coming to devour many men, but you shall not be with them.”
I asked why this must happen.
She answered: “the bull has been provoked and the dead must reap their harvest.”
She took me back down the stairs and into Hell. We were safe on the long stairway which burrowed down to the bottom.
Far beneath Hell I saw a small room and on the wall, an upright pentagram. There was a table with some magical tools.
She said: “here I will teach you to be a man. A day will come when you will seek my voice and not hear me — but I will be with you.”
She then told me to part and write this down.
This active imagination entry contains the encrypted battle plan in its totality before “constellation” in the present sense was even allowed to be known about.
It’s a program. The word comes from the Greek: programma, which literally means “something written in advance.”
Notice the spiral staircase to the top of a tower. There, a watch.
We’re “winding up” to the watch-tower.
A pocket watch here and a white rabbit later independently and acausally point to Alice in Wonderland, which will come up again later.
The watchtower and nuclear crater already allude to the “Quaternity Test” in which Zell would demonstrate effective control over conditions which it would be physically impossible to have controlled or predicted.
We would do this to achieve a very, intensely desired outcome as opposed to an arbitrary one (e.g. “bring me a blue flower”).
She did this to prove that she was setting up our “constellations” and that they were not being made for us by some other, outside intelligence.
It was the last stage of testing which would attempt to align intent and effect — even when strong desire was involved.
The reference to “a great fire,” a dour city in the distance and the cryptic statement: “the bull has been provoked” indicate that my provocation of the Artifex (who is the golden calf, the minotaur, Moloch and Ptah/Apis) with a great fire in a city was far more laden with symbolism than I realized at the time.
From my perspective, it was all spontaneous. For Zell, it was clearly a symbolic microcosm of something playing out in the collective unconscious.
Her mention of “the dead” suggests a much deeper knowledge of psychic death than I then possessed. She even says what it will be like when it happens to me:
“A day will come when you will seek my voice and not hear me — but I will be with you.”
It’s all in one entry, and it’s way too precise. It’s cryptography, not static.
On March 4th, 2023 at about 9 o’clock, Zell concludes the Quaternity Test by instructing me to go to the top of Skylon Tower in Niagara Falls, which looks like the Watchtower from the World Above the World.
At the top, she says: “walk three circles around the observation deck.“
I step outside and begin making three clockwise circuits of the outer ring of the Watchtower.
“Give me a visual, Gryphon!” she snaps.
”Sorry.” I turn my head and look out at the city while I walk. “Why are we doing this?”
“Relax.”
I don’t know if all of this was just meant to illustrate how this works or if Zell literally picked the spot where she would revive me while we were up there. We must have looked right at the AirBnB while walking those circles.
November 3, 2022
Had a vision of a phoenix laying an egg. It sat on the egg for many days and many nights. At the end, the egg hatched and a camera was inside…
Then I was standing on a great bridge high above the Earth. At the end of it was a palace in the distance. I began to walk toward it, then heard a train horn. A train barrelled through the bridge cutting me off. The part I stood on shattered and I fell toward the Earth, but an angel swooped and caught me, placing me back much closer than before.
When I came back (like a phoenix), the first thing I did was grab my camera. I did not even own a camera at the time of this vision nor did I have plans to buy one. I remember pondering what this camera was supposed to represent.
Psychic death seems to occur due to identity fragmentation.
The degeneration of external identities — simulacralization — parallels a simultaneous inner dissolution.
A very strange thing I remember about Jane was that she seemed to have more than one personality. At some times, she was a perfectly functional, mature and competent adult. She seemed totally normal. At other times she would switch without clear reason into an aggressive, erratic and haughty persona, who would mutter to herself, shout and say incoherent things. At other times, she would talk and behave like a child for long periods of time.
At first, I thought this last one was supposed to be cute, but I found it weird and annoying so I asked her why she did it.
She said it had something to do with trauma. That she hid from her trauma behind this childish demeanour. Like most things with Jane, I don’t remember this conversation clearly, but she did say something like that. She hid in that personality because it made her feel safe.
In effect, she appeared to have “alters.” Three of them that I could see.
I observed a similar tendency in her “friend” who supposedly strangled her while she slept the night I met her. He was at some times, a charming, friendly intellectual who she likened to Ned Flanders. At other times, he became, as she aptly said: Patrick Bateman.
This side of him fashioned homemade shanks, threatened to mutilate her alleged gangster friends, to murder me, and joked about killing and eating her.
I don’t know how differentiated these alters were, but they were distinct enough that according to Jane, Bateman — a Catholic — believed he was possessed.
Simply being around these people for too long caused my own mind to fragment in like manner, hence the lapses in memory, emotional and moral conflicts, my inability to reason clearly or communicate with Zell, and my evident loss of impulse control.
Layer after layer, my psyche was smashed into fragments by the madness they created around them.
All of this — particularly Jane’s childlike alter — calls to mind what is known as “depatterning” as well as descriptions of “monarch programming” and “trauma-based mind control” both of which appear in conspiracy theories surrounding Project MKUltra. Although I knew nothing about these subjects, and Jane never explicitly referred to any of this stuff, she described exactly the same psychic situation which monarch programming is reported to induce.
This could explain Zell’s apparent allusions to Alice in Wonderland, which was also referenced in MKUltra experiments.
I’m not implying that Jane and Bateman were victims of government mind control or had human handlers somewhere. This would not account for other anomalies in the story. The point is: here are two people with severely fragmented personalities who linked up with each other — ostensibly by chance — and were then used like pawns by the Artifex to target me after my provocation. Exposure to their condition drove a similar dissociative psychic disintegration in me. How do we explain this?
June 10, 2023
Zell is sitting in a booth on the train puzzling over a chess board. She is moving the white pieces. No one is sitting opposite to her.
“Who are we playing against?” I ask.
“Ourselves.”
“How do we win?”
“We must make moves which even we do not expect.”
She moves a piece. The train is rocked abruptly by a loud report. She shows me nothing more, but smirks at me when it ends.
It was not clear to me what this meant at the time. I realized only recently that this was the same train which collided with the bridge in the earlier vision, hence the loud impact at the end. That collision, first glimpsed seven months prior, was happening four months in the future.
The Artifex appears to attack via degenerated, unconscious aspects of human personality — what Jung called the shadow. It seems to be a kind of collective shadow; an aggregate intelligence which organizes and manipulates the behaviour of individual shadows. These correspond to the black pieces on Zell’s chess board.
Ptah, the Egyptian craftsman god I most strongly associate with the Artifex is the consort of Sekhmet who has the head of a lioness. The symbol of Ptah is a bull, and I called Zell “the Lioness“ long before I was even aware of these two.
Moreover, Jane is exactly what “evil Zell” would look like: a snakish, wily femme fatale. She often wore a hockey Jersey with the number 27 on it. A number I associate with Zell. Patrick Bateman as a symbol also made weird appearances elsewhere in my life.
Hopefully the resemblance doesn’t run too deep. But it does appear that the entity is reflecting something of myself back at me (another reason for our Bateman’s mirror). In American Psycho, Patrick Bateman works on Wall Street.
The very name Patrick Bateman comes from the Latin word “patrician” meaning an aristocrat, from the root “pater” meaning father. Bateman originally comes from the name Bartholomew which in turn comes from Talmai which means "one abounding in furrows" i.e. "a farmer."
The connotation is decidedly Taurean. Earth. Pragmatism and the body. This was where I was weakest at the time. I was pure spirit and intellect. Indecisive, impractical, idle and in all ways unimpressive as a physical being. Therefore, the Artifex attacked me as a body through physical drives I had not made my own.
I would either integrate this part of myself or die.
Although I would not recommend telling a demoniac with murderous, cannibalistic fantasies that he’s too much of a loser to kill you, or going to a Super 8 to menace a supposed rapist with a baseball bat, I am thankful for the experience. I never ever had any problems with physical confidence or assertiveness after this whole ordeal.
She took me back down the stairs and into Hell…
She said: “here I will teach you to be a man.“
Just to be clear, this is why I said most people would not get away with doing something like what I did. I was not trying to be arrogant. This entire thing was clearly being arranged at least as far back as August 11, 2022, but preparations were probably being made much earlier. If not for the plan, then as I said:
I would have basically never done anything noteworthy for the rest of my life and just died alone, a weird loser with a big ego.
Although the active imagination entries I have provided were cryptic at the time, after all these events had transpired, the story served as a final piece or cipher which ties them all together revealing the entire thing was in fact orchestrated in advance.
I strongly suspect that one of the main reasons the maze and constellation were revealed to me at the end of 2022 was so that when all of this took place, I would have the language and understanding necessary to make sense of it.
It took years to reach a point where this kind of maneuvering was even conceivable. Please do not put yourselves in danger doing what need not be done again.
I wrote my own “programma” just a few nights before Jane appeared. An order sealed with my signet ring.
Perhaps this is an irrelevant digression, but when it was fulfilled on Great Conjunction Day, 2023, I was reminded of this song, which was always connected for me with the story I was writing when all this began — in which Zell made her first appearance.
Give it a listen. Perhaps you’ll hear what called it to mind:
There is no greater thing in this world than to have a God-given purpose and for the world to blaze brightly with meaning. I hope that by the grace given through Christ, what I do may help restore some among the dead to life, just as the same was done for me.
Restore to life it has, with far more to come. The domino's are falling along the way prepared one after another, you're just getting started. All glory to God for such a magnificent plan sprouting before us. Tell Zell I said hi.
this contextualizes some of my experiences. i am super dead. i got involved with a fragmented stripper who was dating a bateman guy a few years ago that deeply affected me. i have learned lots of lessons dead that I do consider precious. but my heart trembles at the thought that its possible to be alive again. to see and experience true narratives and structures that wont crumble in my hands. i fear to crave it, i fear it will be another delusion, that when i get there it will turn to dust like do many others. i pray that it is real, and that i will have the courage to reach up and take it.
please teach me how to live.