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  • #16
    Originally posted by Flutterby Phil View Post

    I think he meant to say "Atropocious," hence those scissors:

    Click image for larger version Name:	Atropos.PNG Views:	0 Size:	11.6 KB ID:	246509

    Funny I always had Fenn pegged for more of the Clotho / Dreamweaver type:

    I would just "stick" with what he said rather than what one thinks he meant to say. Just my opinion.

    Comment


    • #17
      Originally posted by Alsetenash View Post

      its amazing what me miss no matter how intently we listen. I only noticed today after watching the parts Quest posted. I noticed because after I watched it , it was my minds independent thoughts that pointed it out to my awareness, ' did you notice the word he used....atrocious"? So I went back and listened again.

      My mojo is my intuition. Lol. I've learnt to listen to 'it'.
      I did notice forrest use the word atrocious. I figured that word was a red herring as forrest taught us to look for aberrations and then he gave us some to mess with us.
      How about where forrest says " I hid the treasure chest before I knew what I wanted to do with it" ?
      WTH, supposedly he worked on the poem for 15 years. And even that math doesn't add up.

      Comment


      • #18
        Originally posted by Quest View Post

        I did notice forrest use the word atrocious. I figured that word was a red herring as forrest taught us to look for aberrations and then he gave us some to mess with us.
        How about where forrest says " I hid the treasure chest before I knew what I wanted to do with it" ?
        WTH, supposedly he worked on the poem for 15 years. And even that math doesn't add up.
        a few things here ...

        1st - is anyone else now looking all around their "ordinary world" and seeing chase-connections everywhere?
        like, the daily items and objects you used to just pass right by, now are somehow transformed into constantly
        presenting themselves to you as clues? I looked around my girlfriends' den last night, and if I didn't KNOW
        her den isn't the location of the Fenn treasure, I would have seen about 22 items or arrangements of items
        I was certain were deliberately placed to hint toward the treasure.

        2nd - and related to the above, night before last I woke up at 4 a.m. with a throbbing big toe -- ingrown nail.
        This pain man, I had forgotten just how damn bad an ingrown toenail smarts -- it kept me up for a few hours
        before I succumbed to an ogre-load of Ibuprofen and then managed to pass out. I also dug the thing out
        and filed it down as best I could. Now, a few days later, and the rest of my foot is aching from the compensating
        gait I've developed -- but I don't just see all this. I see toe-to-toe, a place to dig, my Big Red Toe becomes
        "Courage" donning the red jacket, and thus I "trimmed" it with clippers bold. Actually, they are cheap ones
        made in China, but boy was I bold for digging that source of major woe right out of my toe -- but this way
        my mind now works, give me a few years, and I'm pretty sure I'll be, 4 a.m. by candlelight, digging into
        my big red toe, howling in pain, yet looking down expectantly, eyes bugged, a fit of madness spread
        across my tortured mug, fully expecting to find, to extract FENN'S TREASURE ... from my own big toe!!!
        Woe is me. #Sigh

        3rd - Oh yeah, more support for the above, the toenail edging into the flesh becomes an "aberration" --
        so, you see, I'm not mad. I'm doing exactly what Fenn said -- searching outside the box -- my shoe in this case --
        and searching along the edges and the boundaries and borders -- but I don't venture too far, because
        you ain't supposed to dig where you ain't supposed to dig -- these words, in my ears, as I dig out my ingrown
        toe nail.

        So then I lay there thinking about this phenomenon -- why? why any of it? why, at precisely 4-something
        in the middle of the twilight hours, did my body decide to sound the alarm, to scream ENOUGH!!!!!!
        ringing the bell, which looks like some button on my big toe gets pushed and an electrical signal travels
        up my leg at lightning speed, whangs hard into my brain like that sledgehammer game at the carnival
        were it was whacked by a giant. ding! And then, at 4-something in the a.m., suddenly I'm flung awake
        and into agonizing pain ... and this infernal rogue toenail -- how long had it been planning this
        surreptitious attack? Was it something I said, something I did, an unfresh pair of socks which
        incensed, or maybe he just didn't fancy the new pair of Danners I got for Christmas, the nose-end
        of them at least -- I mean, it had to be something, didn't it? A body part (is a toenail actually a
        body part, or just some 'thing' we endure which grows atop, out of a proper 'body part' -- if our
        bodies are some physical manifestation of the body's will to extend itself into space and exert
        power over other competing creatures, the toenail then is truly the last bastion of the ego's grunt),
        nay, a body part, which has, for decades, for near half a century now, been on perfect behavior,
        (except for that one stint in high school, which, hormones, I mean, to no great surprise was
        a part (or non-part) of me acting rogue during those odd years) but this perfectly mannered
        and in-line friend of mine, suddenly, one night, at 4 a.m., just goes Commando and tries to
        bite off my gd toe, consume my flesh, take over the whole man -- what pushed him to the
        edge, and beyond? And let's face it, toenails aren't exactly known for lightening-fast speed,
        so, that begins to disturb me -- was this insurgence planned months ago? Did have a secret
        enemy in my shoe, pretending to be one of the other nine allies, while secretly, furtively,
        he slowwwwly inched closer and closer to his target, before the middle-o-night ATTACK!!!!
        So now I have all this to deal with. And a limp. And worse still, as I limp around my house,
        cold, confused, bitter, treasureless, secretly inside myself, there's an intolerable suspicion,
        a suspicion I dare not share with my girlfriend, mother, or closest buddies even, and this
        suspicion is -- somehow, someway, some whence, this insurrection at the furthest extremity
        of my being was organized, orchestrated, and carried out by cover of night (truly under-cover(s))
        by a man I never even met.

        *Edit -- Ibuprofen -- I B Pro Fenn -- I B ... U Pro Fenn?
        Within the medicine, the sickness lurks, I think I need help.


        *Edit -- I'm leaving the tardy apostrophe in "girlfriends' den"
        because it makes me appear way more baller than I am or ever intended.
        Last edited by Flutterby Phil; 01-13-2021, 12:15 PM.

        Comment


        • #19
          Originally posted by Flutterby Phil View Post

          a few things here ...

          1st - is anyone else now looking all around their "ordinary world" and seeing chase-connections everywhere?
          like, the daily items and objects you used to just pass right by, now are somehow transformed into constantly
          presenting themselves to you as clues? I looked around my girlfriends' den last night, and if I didn't KNOW
          her den isn't the location of the Fenn treasure, I would have seen about 22 items or arrangements of items
          I was certain were deliberately placed to hint toward the treasure.

          2nd - and related to the above, night before last I woke up at 4 a.m. with a throbbing big toe -- ingrown nail.
          This pain man, I had forgotten just how damn bad an ingrown toenail smarts -- it kept me up for a few hours
          before I succumbed to an ogre-load of Ibuprofen and then managed to pass out. I also dug the thing out
          and filed it down as best I could. Now, a few days later, and the rest of my foot is aching from the compensating
          gait I've developed -- but I don't just see all this. I see toe-to-toe, a place to dig, my Big Red Toe becomes
          "Courage" donning the red jacket, and thus I "trimmed" it with clippers bold. Actually, they are cheap ones
          made in China, but boy was I bold for digging that source of major woe right out of my toe -- but this way
          my mind now works, give me a few years, and I'm pretty sure I'll be, 4 a.m. by candlelight, digging into
          my big red toe, howling in pain, yet looking down expectantly, eyes bugged, a fit of madness spread
          across my tortured mug, fully expecting to find, to extract FENN'S TREASURE ... from my own big toe!!!
          Woe is me. #Sigh

          3rd - Oh yeah, more support for the above, the toenail edging into the flesh becomes an "aberration" --
          so, you see, I'm not mad. I'm doing exactly what Fenn said -- searching outside the box -- my shoe in this case --
          and searching along the edges and the boundaries and borders -- but I don't venture too far, because
          you ain't supposed to dig where you ain't supposed to dig -- these words, in my ears, as I dig out my ingrown
          toe nail.

          So then I lay there thinking about this phenomenon -- why? why any of it? why, at precisely 4-something
          in the middle of the twilight hours, did my body decide to sound the alarm, to scream ENOUGH!!!!!!
          ringing the bell, which looks like some button on my big toe gets pushed and an electrical signal travels
          up my leg at lightning speed, whangs hard into my brain like that sledgehammer game at the carnival
          were it was whacked by a giant. ding! And then, at 4-something in the a.m., suddenly I'm flung awake
          and into agonizing pain ... and this infernal rogue toenail -- how long had it been planning this
          surreptitious attack? Was it something I said, something I did, an unfresh pair of socks which
          incensed, or maybe he just didn't fancy the new pair of Danners I got for Christmas, the nose-end
          of them at least -- I mean, it had to be something, didn't it? A body part (is a toenail actually a
          body part, or just some 'thing' we endure which grows atop, out of a proper 'body part' -- if our
          bodies are some physical manifestation of the body's will to extend itself into space and exert
          power over other competing creatures, the toenail then is truly the last bastion of the ego's grunt),
          nay, a body part, which has, for decades, for near half a century now, been on perfect behavior,
          (except for that one stint in high school, which, hormones, I mean, to no great surprise was
          a part (or non-part) of me acting rogue during those odd years) but this perfectly mannered
          and in-line friend of mine, suddenly, one night, at 4 a.m., just goes Commando and tries to
          bite off my gd toe, consume my flesh, take over the whole man -- what pushed him to the
          edge, and beyond? And let's face it, toenails aren't exactly known for lightening-fast speed,
          so, that begins to disturb me -- was this insurgence planned months ago? Did have a secret
          enemy in my shoe, pretending to be one of the other nine allies, while secretly, furtively,
          he slowwwwly inched closer and closer to his target, before the middle-o-night ATTACK!!!!
          So now I have all this to deal with. And a limp. And worse still, as I limp around my house,
          cold, confused, bitter, treasureless, secretly inside myself, there's an intolerable suspicion,
          a suspicion I dare not share with my girlfriend, mother, or closest buddies even, and this
          suspicion is -- somehow, someway, some whence, this insurrection at the furthest extremity
          of my being was organized, orchestrated, and carried out by cover of night (truly under-cover(s))
          by a man I never even met.

          *Edit -- Ibuprofen -- I B Pro Fenn -- I B ... U Pro Fenn?
          Within the medicine, the sickness lurks, I think I need help.


          *Edit -- I'm leaving the tardy apostrophe in "girlfriends' den"
          because it makes me appear way more baller than I am or ever intended.
          You have a case of Forest Rabbit Hole Fever. You see, and I see that you do. Forrest for years laid out uncounted amounts of rabbit holes. Speaking to people thru scrapbooks, using his own books, interviews and such. Forrest made the solving of the poem appear to be harder than it was. Most people are self defeatist. It could be seen on the forums and in the emails forrest received. The name Confirmation Bias was used on forums and youtube videos. People used the name because they thought it made them sound smart. But it actually showed just how ignorant they were and self defeatist. There is a poster here on Thor named June, their new mantra is to promote people to consult Jack so he can dispel their solve. Pretty pathetic. But I'm rambling on. Forrest had to lay out the rabbit holes so the chase would last as long as it did. The thousand year treasure hunt was just another subtle hint that went over the majorities heads.

          BTW, your toenail is just trying to tell you to have a better trimming schedule.

          Comment


          • #20
            Originally posted by Quest View Post

            I did notice forrest use the word atrocious. I figured that word was a red herring as forrest taught us to look for aberrations and then he gave us some to mess with us.
            How about where forrest says " I hid the treasure chest before I knew what I wanted to do with it" ?
            WTH, supposedly he worked on the poem for 15 years. And even that math doesn't add up.
            Quest. Yes yes yes....specifically to....your Q..." " I hid the treasure chest before I knew what I wanted to do with it" ?
            WTH, supposedly he worked on the poem for 15 years. And even that math doesn't add up."

            (( Add also the 15 years after he got cancer in 1988 he hid the chest Doesn't add up either))

            This is where I'm going with this. Also add that he said he hid the treasure chest before he completed the poem!!! That is linked to what you ask in quote. In the now hindsight of the supposed " find" in 2020; it's now possible to look back in order to understand. That's what I'm doing anyways. I finally have an answer to that one answer in a Q&A that I could not ,for the life of me, make any sense of the what and why of his answer. I brought it up on Dal's before. Many have wondered about it also but nothing was really insightful to me, even to me that of my own ideas. It's the one Q&A that , if and when understood, will unlock the mystery of this end. It is in this end that the information given by FF and Jack ,post find , that made solving that Q&A riddle possible. Finally!!!

            Ill start a thread to have a quick focus on that Q&A . I'm very interested in what folks here will have for their ideas and insighrs. Because I now realize that that Q&A is the riddle mirroring of that open Chest photo of the find. Truly amazing to me what it means, not just what it means as a riddle which is huge. But it explains the end , explainable as I will show points going from that understanding.

            The potential is, this end is all scripted. All of it. That includes, Jack, the Barbara and Erskine game . But we need some tangible possible evidence of this. I don't like to suffer foolishness of fluffy concepts or ideas. Neither would anyone here, I'd think.

            I just have some distractions to take care of , then I will post it.

            Comment


            • #21
              Originally posted by Alsetenash View Post

              Quest
              The potential is, this end is all scripted. All of it. That includes, Jack, the Barbara and Erskine game . But we need some tangible possible evidence of this.
              IF your conspiracy theory IS true, and I can't say whether or not I believe it may be very Spot On, then the next question then is Who then are the script writers?!? I can think of more than a few suspects!

              But it's setup in a way you will never get tangible evidence until and unless they lift the veil and yell "Surprise!" and I wouldn't hold my breath on that one.
              Last edited by Hoof Hearted; 01-13-2021, 08:09 PM.

              Comment


              • #22
                We are playing chess with a advanced computer I bet

                Comment


                • #23
                  Regarding Fenn's curious statement of "no lead searcher" (so far as he is concerned), consider this --

                  you stand in front of 7 dogs and throw a tennis ball.
                  they all tear out in pursuit of the tennis ball.
                  at any given point, one dog, inevitably,
                  is THE LEAD DOG.

                  If you make some statement negating this fact,
                  to me this entails something very very curious
                  going on.

                  Like, for instance, I know sometimes when I am the one throwing the ball,
                  I only "pretend" to throw the ball, and if I do it just right, all the dogs
                  still tear out running, only, after some number of steps, they all eventually
                  STOP, start sniffing around, looking very confused.
                  Eventually they all end up frantically going in different directions,
                  none of them appearing too certain of their next series of steps --

                  Is this the sort of chaotic phenomenon Fenn experienced watching all the
                  searchers looking for the treasures? Eager, lost dogs, searching frantically for a scent?

                  Is there then "no lead dog" because there ... is no tennis ball?

                  Or did Fenn feign a throw in one direction,
                  watch all the dogs tear out in that direction,
                  and then slip the treasure down somewhere else entirely?

                  And what if the treasure is Madness?

                  The home of Brown then becomes a "Mad House."

                  And there is no "leader" in a madhouse, because none of the madcaps
                  care to even keep score. For they're too busy sniffing roses, or each other,
                  and following whatever primal itch comes next their way ...

                  (wish the volume was better on this one ...)

                  "A toast to Mr. Fenn for providing such fine meat for our XMas repast."

                  Last edited by Flutterby Phil; 01-13-2021, 08:51 PM.

                  Comment


                  • #24
                    Originally posted by Flutterby Phil View Post
                    Regarding Fenn's curious statement of "no lead searcher" (so far as he is concerned), consider this --

                    you stand in front of 7 dogs and throw a tennis ball.
                    they all tear out in pursuit of the tennis ball.
                    at any given point, one dog, inevitably,
                    is THE LEAD DOG.

                    If you make some statement negating this fact,
                    to me this entails something very very curious
                    going on.

                    Like, for instance, I know sometimes when I am the one throwing the ball,
                    I only "pretend" to throw the ball, and if I do it just right, all the dogs
                    still tear out running, only, after some number of steps, they all eventually
                    STOP, start sniffing around, looking very confused.
                    Eventually they all end up frantically going in different directions,
                    none of them appearing too certain of their next series of steps --

                    Is this the sort of chaotic phenomenon Fenn experienced watching all the
                    searchers looking for the treasures? Eager, lost dogs, searching frantically for a scent?

                    Is there then "no lead dog" because there ... is no tennis ball?

                    Or did Fenn feign a throw in one direction,
                    watch all the dogs tear out in that direction,
                    and then slip the treasure down somewhere else entirely?

                    And what if the treasure is Madness?

                    The home of Brown then becomes a "Mad House."

                    And there is no "leader" in a madhouse, because none of the madcaps
                    care to even keep score. For they're too busy sniffing roses, or each other,
                    and following whatever primal itch comes next their way ...

                    (wish the volume was better on this one ...)

                    "A toast to Mr. Fenn for providing such fine meat for our XMas repast."

                    Your theory resonates deep within my tired canine brain. As I continue to rummage around spatially & temporarily disoriented looking for the ball, maybe you can keep an eye pealed for an open gate along this fence. Fenn probably dropped it on the ground just on the other side as he walked away. Hopefully he left the gate open for us.

                    Comment


                    • #25
                      Originally posted by Flutterby Phil View Post

                      a few things here ...

                      1st - is anyone else now looking all around their "ordinary world" and seeing chase-connections everywhere?
                      like, the daily items and objects you used to just pass right by, now are somehow transformed into constantly
                      presenting themselves to you as clues? I looked around my girlfriends' den last night, and if I didn't KNOW
                      her den isn't the location of the Fenn treasure, I would have seen about 22 items or arrangements of items
                      I was certain were deliberately placed to hint toward the treasure.

                      2nd - and related to the above, night before last I woke up at 4 a.m. with a throbbing big toe -- ingrown nail.
                      This pain man, I had forgotten just how damn bad an ingrown toenail smarts -- it kept me up for a few hours
                      before I succumbed to an ogre-load of Ibuprofen and then managed to pass out. I also dug the thing out
                      and filed it down as best I could. Now, a few days later, and the rest of my foot is aching from the compensating
                      gait I've developed -- but I don't just see all this. I see toe-to-toe, a place to dig, my Big Red Toe becomes
                      "Courage" donning the red jacket, and thus I "trimmed" it with clippers bold. Actually, they are cheap ones
                      made in China, but boy was I bold for digging that source of major woe right out of my toe -- but this way
                      my mind now works, give me a few years, and I'm pretty sure I'll be, 4 a.m. by candlelight, digging into
                      my big red toe, howling in pain, yet looking down expectantly, eyes bugged, a fit of madness spread
                      across my tortured mug, fully expecting to find, to extract FENN'S TREASURE ... from my own big toe!!!
                      Woe is me. #Sigh

                      3rd - Oh yeah, more support for the above, the toenail edging into the flesh becomes an "aberration" --
                      so, you see, I'm not mad. I'm doing exactly what Fenn said -- searching outside the box -- my shoe in this case --
                      and searching along the edges and the boundaries and borders -- but I don't venture too far, because
                      you ain't supposed to dig where you ain't supposed to dig -- these words, in my ears, as I dig out my ingrown
                      toe nail.

                      So then I lay there thinking about this phenomenon -- why? why any of it? why, at precisely 4-something
                      in the middle of the twilight hours, did my body decide to sound the alarm, to scream ENOUGH!!!!!!
                      ringing the bell, which looks like some button on my big toe gets pushed and an electrical signal travels
                      up my leg at lightning speed, whangs hard into my brain like that sledgehammer game at the carnival
                      were it was whacked by a giant. ding! And then, at 4-something in the a.m., suddenly I'm flung awake
                      and into agonizing pain ... and this infernal rogue toenail -- how long had it been planning this
                      surreptitious attack? Was it something I said, something I did, an unfresh pair of socks which
                      incensed, or maybe he just didn't fancy the new pair of Danners I got for Christmas, the nose-end
                      of them at least -- I mean, it had to be something, didn't it? A body part (is a toenail actually a
                      body part, or just some 'thing' we endure which grows atop, out of a proper 'body part' -- if our
                      bodies are some physical manifestation of the body's will to extend itself into space and exert
                      power over other competing creatures, the toenail then is truly the last bastion of the ego's grunt),
                      nay, a body part, which has, for decades, for near half a century now, been on perfect behavior,
                      (except for that one stint in high school, which, hormones, I mean, to no great surprise was
                      a part (or non-part) of me acting rogue during those odd years) but this perfectly mannered
                      and in-line friend of mine, suddenly, one night, at 4 a.m., just goes Commando and tries to
                      bite off my gd toe, consume my flesh, take over the whole man -- what pushed him to the
                      edge, and beyond? And let's face it, toenails aren't exactly known for lightening-fast speed,
                      so, that begins to disturb me -- was this insurgence planned months ago? Did have a secret
                      enemy in my shoe, pretending to be one of the other nine allies, while secretly, furtively,
                      he slowwwwly inched closer and closer to his target, before the middle-o-night ATTACK!!!!
                      So now I have all this to deal with. And a limp. And worse still, as I limp around my house,
                      cold, confused, bitter, treasureless, secretly inside myself, there's an intolerable suspicion,
                      a suspicion I dare not share with my girlfriend, mother, or closest buddies even, and this
                      suspicion is -- somehow, someway, some whence, this insurrection at the furthest extremity
                      of my being was organized, orchestrated, and carried out by cover of night (truly under-cover(s))
                      by a man I never even met.

                      *Edit -- Ibuprofen -- I B Pro Fenn -- I B ... U Pro Fenn?
                      Within the medicine, the sickness lurks, I think I need help.


                      *Edit -- I'm leaving the tardy apostrophe in "girlfriends' den"
                      because it makes me appear way more baller than I am or ever intended.
                      It helps if you dip your sore toe in a pot of warm water, but you might as well soak them all. Twice a day for twenty minutes. Be careful not to leave the 'pot-a-toes' unattended for too long or else they may start growing bulgy eyes.
                      In the case of this situation arising, please move your comments to the "What's Growing in Your Garden" thread.

                      I hope this helps.
                      MC

                      Comment


                      • #26
                        Originally posted by Alsetenash View Post

                        Sometimes, in order to understand the universe , one needs to inverse their thought experience in purview. Reversing words can be very manipulative, hypnotic and spell casting.

                        Such as:
                        Live
                        Lived.

                        Women are my only interest in that regard. I think same for FF, though some are questioning that. He just likes to reverse things as clues. That's Gadi's left hand pointing,, not his right hand. Clockwise/Counter Clockwise- as above so below.

                        Dude.
                        Hi Alsetenash I was just listening to Santos Bonacci mention this exact reversal during my lunch break today. live:evil mentioned @34:10 - this video is worth watching

                        https://youtu.be/awyV1zbqB0Q?t=2043
                         

                        Comment


                        • #27
                          Originally posted by SangreDeCristo View Post

                          Hi Alsetenash I was just listening to Santos Bonacci mention this exact reversal during my lunch break today. live:evil mentioned @34:10 - this video is worth watching



                          https://youtu.be/awyV1zbqB0Q?t=2043
                          Thanks. I watched it for a couple of minutes from your time stamp. He's a smart guy. Astrology is of the oldest science . Though planets and alignments and positions do change their patterns. .Meaning, there would have been a timeline change in concordance within changes in the collective vibrational frequency. There's a certain level of predicatibilty by the celestials positional alignments and their predictive patterns, that effect vibration frequencies of influence. Such timeline change are linked to the celestial alignments predicted at the end of the Mayan Calendar. Their calendars end is the beginning of a new long count. That's what their calendar was based on such influences of cycles. I am definitely no expert and I know very little and have little interest in astronomy/astrology, though I have done some readings about it over the years . My inventions I'm working on are within the understandings if the science of nature .

                          But like JP Morgan's famous quote ( see attachment). If people think astronomy/ astrology is a woo woo science, then compare their bank accounts history with JP Morgan's.

                          Who would have have the last laugh.

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                          Click image for larger version

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                          Last edited by Alsetenash; 01-13-2021, 11:03 PM.

                          Comment


                          • #28
                            Fenn announced the find on a Saturday signifying the reluctant, pained, Saturn devouring his son.
                            The treasure was most likely retrieved on Thorsday and found by the tossing of a mallet.

                            Comment


                            • #29
                              Originally posted by Flutterby Phil View Post
                              Fenn announced the find on a Saturday signifying the reluctant, pained, Saturn devouring his son.
                              The treasure was most likely retrieved on Thorsday and found by the tossing of a mallet.
                              What a sh!tty few days that was... I was taking orders from my girlfriend and huffing trailer loads of firepits, concrete blocks, and heavy wooden furniture all day Thursday-Saturday.

                              Comment


                              • #30
                                Maybe this was part of Forrest’s plan all along. To de-occult knowledge. To teach the rednecks how to empower intuition. To level the playing field. The poem mentioned the line drawing nigh.

                                draw INGNI

                                I have found that symbol to be a seed sound that gets implanted into the subconscious mind.

                                the ING sound is the most powerful seed sound that was kept secret by the Vedic priests. It is the essence of the god Indra, it is the essence of THOR.

                                ING also represents Shakti, which represents pure Kundalini.

                                Comment

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