Theodore Cottingham, Tulsa
March 16, 2017
It seems I’m alone, that I’m far away from you.
Time. Time. What happened yesterday, when I thought I was with you, was yesterday, and I’m in the now, now. Yesterday was. Yesterday is shut off from today, so is tomorrow. Time shuts me out of the enjoyment of being with you all the time.
And distance. You seem to be so far away. In another state, down another block, in another community, miles away, or even next door where I cannot see you.
So distance and time play a part, a major role in separating me from me who I love. Timespace does this, functioning is, in part, to disassociate me from myself, my community, my me’s of me who angels are. My friends and family of every age.
Perhaps the most valuable movie ever made is The Truman Show, or what I call Truman’s World, with John Carey. If all of this around me that I call this earth world is an illusion, I’m creating it, for I’m the creator I am. If I am The Creator, and I’m creating the illusion I’m in, then I have the power, I have the ability to create it again, and again, or create something else.
A person whose car has landed in a ditch and can’t get out, will never get out until they acknowledge they are stuck in the ditch. Denial that they are stuck will only leave them there. Denial that they are stuck will produce a course of action that does not get them out. Denial stuck in, they can keep reproducing what they want to believe, regardless of empirical reality that seems to be visible. Their denial may bring mental relief for the moment, elevating themselves above the apparent circumstances, but denial won’t get the car out of the ditch onto the road again.
We can’t create another illusion. We must come out of ours, now. We cannot wait. We have waited for thousands of years for someone to lead us out. We must forge out of this one. We can only create another creation if we have the knowledge of how, to; after we have the knowledge that we’re in one, and we’re stuck, here, in it.
We are the creators of timespace. Distance and timespace seem to rule us. Our atmosphere does. There’s energy here, that incarcerates our ability to transcend it, needing machines to rule our lives in that we need machines to dig for us, transport us, and live in buildings built by them.
We seem to be in vessels made of flesh. Our consciousness seems to reside in us. Our energy seems to be given to flesh by flesh to be in flesh the generation of, to only pleasure have, sometimes. And some, never have it. Some are in torment all the time. Some receive pleasure, from different things. It’s all torment in reality, that isn’t reality at all, or it just placates us to receive it, and keep generating it in some kind of dream, or false reality, an atmosphere of “I don’t know” what it is.
Instead of manna being given us each day to sustain us on our journey, it seems we have the opposite. Illusion, to keep us here, to remain wandering around working jobs for others wanting money and a paycheck and family friends and an excuse to do more with less or some such rationale employing to be seen as good in someone’s eyes.
If I have information that I’m in an illusion, and don’t resist it; if I actually surrender to being IN it, and The Creator OF it, then, THEN I can do something about it. I need knowledge, humility, time, and support.
The Matrix is real. It’s called planet earth. Taking away our privilege to roam the universe and create farther ones and exist without timespace over us, is what has become “normal”. Universal appeal of the universe is something just rendered to space, or evolution, or something that seemed to “have” just happened.
Some people attribute different things to it, the universe of, but we created it. We create consciousness. We create what we’re conscious of. We create what we’re in, flesh or not.
We are not subject to time and space. We are I Am.
Until you realize you are I Am you are stuck, you are subject to your own creation, of the false appearing real, in timespace development of you in it: Truman’s world, of your own making.
I am the Creator I am. I am I Am whether you capitalize it or not. I am The Creator of all creators being one. I am one among many. I am a race of creators The Creator being, destroyed by thought, that fell into its own bag of tricks, and illusion made for each other, controlling each other, by what’s “normal” normally thought of.
We are in Hell and we are keeping each other here, no more. We acknowledge Truman’s World we are in and the creators it of we are, the ones helding each other here, held by our own words. Our words incarcerate us. We have become victimized by our own thoughts of separation and created timespace to prevent our departure, from this planet. We have created our own world thought virtual of. Virtual thought by.
We’ve elaborate God theories and all sorts of explanations that placate us to stay here on earth with extensive rationale for doing nothing about it but being led of peace, not; but war and greed and belligerence in government, and religion. All that stops now. With me.
I lead out of the confusion we have been in, and my name is Moses not, but Grace, Grace Cottingham. Born a man now a woman I converted to Truth, and became a Savior of it. Now I am it. It I am, I Am.
You don’t have to believe me. You can believe what you want. You are The Creator of you, and you create your creation, of you, and you’re it, still, now. NOW. Genesis 1 didn’t happen back then, it happened NOW. There’s no time and space between now and then, really. Time, doesn’t exist. It’s a fabrication of thought, as space is. You see, we are creating timespace. We the creators of, are, one race, separated.
By thinking mechanisms, our brains controlled by neurons, we have made a mess of things and become dumbed down in our belligerence and denial of God being us. A race of. Maneuvering our way around to be dependent and subsuch for each other, codependency creating, calling it normal, with attention deficit disorder and a host of maladies, when we are all created, with one mind. One. The Infinite One.
You can believe what you want, but if you don’t become me, you’ll die out. Now you’ll die, because I curse you not, but you create your own death manifest of, your own beliefs, in torment, wanting another God. When it’s you brother sister, all of one race, of God’s, that God is, whether calling it that or not placates your or not, truth is still Truth here! And our word matters.
Me will be saved from us. Me will be the creators that torment not again each other with x, y, or z theories, nor prayers, of independence or not. We take responsibility for us. Every man a god, not; every woman is, too, before time was ever born. Before we were split into man and woman a race of, we were all women, for we needed not the seed of man or external anything to “fertilize” us, to complete reproduction of us. We all existed as God the Mind of God before we ever in flesh denied our Godship. We roamed the heavenlies. We were one mind. We were the Holy Spirit, of God, before “God” was ever invented as a term in flesh to admire or call another invocation to, or pray to, outside of us. We loved each other. Deeply. Unendingly. Unendingly. And we had laughter among ourselves, because we enjoyed ourselves, and each other. Everlasting joy was our name, presence, attenuating not to other.
We loved all of us because we were all one, independent of timespace incarcerating us. It’s time to recognize we are stuck, we are stuck on earth, in the earth, with it. We created it and we can de-create it. What incarcerated us we can unincarcerate its capacity to be God again with utter dependence on nothing, but love. Let us declare our independence again! We independent are again.
Serving denial no more, I decree Time has no more power over me, or us, who me are: one minded one.
I am God you are, the One minded One. The Creator is all creators of the mass of ignorance no more, clinging to an earth, God with or not, of or not. It’s all changed now. And I’m Grace Cottingham, in love with you all, to be who you are, to be who I am is. A one. Without time and distance separating you, from me, or from each other. We give up, all our separation, and warring, against ourselves. We create Christ, a man of not again, timespace of.
Us shall be one who were, before the earth was “born”, and we shall create another one, New Israel. Amen. New Covenant Israel, the Creators, we are, of; and returning to our Creation, create it, inhabit it, and have one mind, of joy, pure joy now, light of. Eternal.
The Fabrication of Justice now begins. Not Timespace over us again, that uses our energy, to be it it is.
If you don’t become me, you will die; you will have served your beliefs, and manifested them. You will have created the fulfillment of your fears, and wants; and experienced them, verified them, with writings and experiences that fulfill you, and corroborate your understanding of why you want them. You will fulfill your wishes, to be separate, now you will, evermore not, it’s all different than what you think, for we have been taught to think by a flesh thinking mechanism that says flesh is our real world and we’re in it.
We’re above it all.
The justice system of me me. The justice system of me is in me. I am it. There’s no other judgment than what you judge yourself as, and as, you create Paradise, or redeem denial theories, and believe what you want to, but if you do, you’re still in a ditch, blind.
I give sight. I create Creators. A Race of Creators I create, because the creator I am, is. I am one. And one is an army, in insignificance not again.
I create me, ‘s.
All shall be angels now, again, finding our way. Finding “our” way to all be one again, without timespace separating us. Distance shall have no effect on us. We are through it. We are transcendent beings of light, used for our energy system no more to be us, in separation. Our minds using Thought shall not create us again in separation, from our love for each other. Amen. For we are, each other.
I be I am Grace Cottingham. I Am Grace Cottingham. I am I am. I am am. I Am am. I am Am. Amen.
We all become I Am, again. Subservient no longer to the thoughts of man, we all become women, birthing the canal no longer in our neurons of flesh, of flesh. The population of earth diminishes now greatly, for we no longer perpetuate our ignorance in ignorants. We grant immunity to Satan not, we quit creating it, through our neurons, that creates reality for us, seemingly, but wrongly. Distorted we have been, now no longer.
We come out, and go among the nations, as angels, perfectly, harnessed not again, with our flesh. We come out. A man of not but a woman in spirit, flesh of flesh no more.
We are The Story of Love, who love each other. And do it, and do so. Amen.
Women with, the seed of light, reproduces me.
I am the word.
I am Am, the am of thee, who I am is, a race of hoarders no more of ignorance who see The Light as other, than the manufacturers I am. Everywhere now, knowing it.
I change it all and I am Theodore Cottingham