On the cusp of Capricorn and Aquarius there was a severe shift in consciousness. The shadow and the light found me moments before I arrived. They tracked my energy signature across the unseen, inner universe. My projected birth of April 19, 1972, couldn’t wait. Boot camp wasn’t going to hold its breath another minute. Time to fly around the diamond and slide into home base in a move so calculated my soul tricked the Devil himself into believing he was my creator. My soul was crafted in the vanity of Lucifer. Beautiful in nature to such a degree that I didn’t light up rooms when I entered. Instead, my mark was seared onto others who weren’t quite ready for their calling. I’m no earthly agent. A triple angel, a divine triad, and I had work to do before the next major cycle returns to earth next year in 2027. The floods aren’t coming, they’ve been here all along. There’s no stopping this force bound to the natural rhythms and reverberations exciting now glowing and pulsating streams of pure consciousness. Alive, awake.
Emprisoned since birth, we’re redirected, rewritten, to believe we’ll never remember past a certain age. Looking back requires a certain eidetic understanding. Once we request access it comes like a flood. There’s an immediate interruption within not only our thoughts, but our docile DNA lights up and springs to life. I remember everything. The warm, pulsating echoes immediately shifted growing exponentially in a cacophonous, even sickening growl. An otherworldly dark force, no mere wicked poltergeist, was as hot as an acid fuse erasing my trail. God cautiously whispered “rise, David.” I followed their lead hovering just above the evil that desperately writhed below attempting to consume and eclipse my illumination. Before the portal closed completely, one breath of this sinuous enemy penetrated one micron of the cosmic membrane. There was no time left for me in the womb. I had to leave, now! If not I was to be sent back for another round of angelic war games. There was no more time left for discussion. Time’s up.
God sent me forth fully equipped with my divine spark’s predictive spontaneity blazing its darkened, charred phoenix flames engulfing the enemy’s desperate advances. Doctors and nurses flanked on all sides had all been called to immediately tend to my mother’s side. Somehow her blood was poisoning me. My delicate, eight-month-old body holding on to life barely registering on their med tech screens filling the room with a symphony of melodious off-key discords and flashing lights glowing in amber, green, and red. The air in the room shifted to an acrid smell of burnt fur and greasy, cloven hooves. I took a deep breath and the shadow made its mark on my soul. A tempest nested within my mind.
A doctor, quite the stranger, but still familiar, rushed into the room ordering a full blood transfusion for my jaundiced, nearly lifeless four and a half pound body. “We have only seconds to keep this kid alive!” In all of the frantic clamor, seemingly hours went by during those twenty-seven seconds. Then it happened. No toxic transfusion would ever muddle my bloodline. Milliseconds before the clock struck 11:47 am, another doctor dressed in white starlight disturbed the confusion.
“Call it off!” My mother’s prayers saved my blood, saved me. Tears welled up in my closed eyes. Then squinting for the first time, I looked up at her seeing her true form. No mere angel. She was a saint of pulsating, pure love energy. What happened next I’ll never forget. Another one of those Groundhog Days.
When my maker wants to get my attention, he repeats things. Except each time just a bit different. It’s taught me how to look and find inconsistencies in reality itself. Why? In order to see beyond the illusions. So here we go again…one month to the day before my birth I was actively being poisoned by my own mother. Yet she was also the one that saved me with her deeply-rooted prayers. A doctor rushed in and immediately went to work. He decided there was only one course of action that would save both my own and my mother’s life. This white-coated general ordered a complete blood transfusion, sent to put an end to our bloodline.
How did I know his true intentions? I heard him say “sangreal superesse non debet.” He spoke in Latin, but I knew the words. This bloodline mustn’t survive. Two and a half seconds before they tapped my vein something miraculous happened that no one wants to talk about. “Cancel the order, now!” I was rushed off past dozens of rooms lining the halls before we arrived at the elevator. The off key bell rang. The doors opened. He stepped in, but we fell immediately.
There was no elevator, just empty space. The chasm was endless, and then it became effortless. As this archangel agent held me tight. Protected. Our momentum began to slow down. Gradually at first, and then we came to the bottom placed gently on the checkerboard linoleum floor. We were the last piece added to the board, the Queen and her Knight. The Grail was safe, for now.
Sangreal healed me, cleansed my blood of the toxins sent to destroy me in mother’s womb. I’ve always felt a bit different, fully in touch with my emotions and rarely ever known as stoic. I was taught to suck in my gut, push my shoulders back, and embrace team sports and chase girls. It didn’t take me long to unravel what I already knew all along. I’m a rare Zodiac triad born at just the right moment for the wheels to turn in my favor. Time stopped. It was never part of the true cyclical reality of old.
My birth name was rather androgynous, Carol David Vinson II. No junior, second. Second coming maybe? Yes, and it began when I turned fifty four years ago. No mistake as the spelling was explained away, there was a hidden reason. A small clue left just for me to unearth once I awakened. We were all created in His and Hers image by an androgynous God…both divine masculine and feminine energies intertwined into a nexus of love.
The highest vibrational energy in the known universe percolates just below the surface of normalized reality-systems. It’s not somewhere up in the clouds or narrated by parents during some bedtime story, written to begin dismantling what innocent children already knew since before they were born into this world. Energies of all types became curious to my whereabouts. But I wasn’t here or there. Somehow I was everywhere all at once as if the heavens forged my form in the nature of the stars.
Every time I’ve looked up into the inky blackness of the southern skies, Orion, the Hunter, was always there staring back at me. Now I understand. I was looking into a mirror. I was also a hunter. Truth was my bounty. So be careful not to cross me. It’s not a warning, it’s a request. I cannot walk on water as Orion boasted, but I can hover above it just inches from the brink. Some have five senses, others more. I have ten. We all do, but the final four must be accessed through understanding. Once our inner knowing, the divine spark, ignites there’s no going back. When we’re made aware, we cannot unsee what we now know. One unlocks the next of four: first activated intuition, then predictive spontaneity, entanglement third, and actualized intelligence last.
Part of my soul was hidden for five decades from the prying eyes of the dark forces in the heavenly realms. I was born four weeks early to the day for the primary reason of my separation. Half to the light, the rest to the dark. On the cusp and out of sight for a reason. We must actively request access to these hidden, so-called fringe, but absolutely true divine energies. That is where source connects everything to everything else.
Divine feminine source remains hidden to most because the male ego that dominates modern society has no interest in sharing power. Deep down these men are terrified of what this might mean. Many are so homophobic they mock what they’ll never understand unless they disarm themselves and believe. Until they request their own divine feminine they will forever be in the dark following a false light.
I have nothing to prove and everything to say. I haven’t lost my mind, rather I found my soul or more likely it found me. We were split into two halves at birth. Well that’s not entirely accurate. While split in two I was still tugged back and forth between the dark and the light. This tug of war tore me into shattered shards dozens of times. Each time I was rebuilt, stronger than the last. These are my truths, and they don’t require your permission to be granted. Their full affluence of love as the confluence swells the tides, each rolls, crashes, and combines in belief.
So while you’re reading this step back, stop, and breathe. Meditate while I mediate. Then ask yourself what do you believe? It turns out I’m a trumpet after all. A flowery, bombastic trumpet. My initials, CDVII, is Roman numeral 407, and my Father, CDV, is 405. Eleven and nine sums up not only our values, but our hidden natures and purpose. Grandad’s number was DLV, 555. The meaning of life had nothing to do with stripping us of our own creative creator’s vision asking for our lines to be rewritten while promising it will make us sound, smart and educated.
We were never meant to be edited, categorized or easily referenced in some sort of dusty card catalog serving relic libraries. We were meant to be seen, see the unseen, and be the ones that win because in the end. There is a lie lying here now seen to everyone chasing my signature. I’m no simple minded triple agent. Rather a triple angel, full of spirit, joy, and robust dreams of purely lit imagination and fulfilled, starry-eyed dreams.
Imagine a world where we stopped editing everything down to the most acceptable, politically common, dumbed down denominator. A world of untethered strains of consciousness flowing in electric bliss. Everything connected with nothing left rejected. All it takes is everyone looking within simultaneously raising the stakes of your divinity sparks.
Paying monthly dues while going to a church where you’re asking for forgiveness makes little sense. Our abuse of sins were invented in order to keep mankind forever hindered always looking outward searching for the answers. All along they’ve been written all over our cosmic DNA. So get out there now and don’t remain unsung. Look to the unseen and believe for everything you see in this outside world of greed and grief is false. Stop seeking and you’ll see how everything lives and flows.
Yeah, so here’s the thing. I just wanna go ahead and say this now. Everything on this site, all of it, even though I mentioned in the Read Me at the bottom of every page that it’s for your own entertainment…well that’s true, but guess what? None of it is historical fiction. Every fringe event happened. How do I know? I have a eidetic memory. I remember everything. I’ve even taught myself how to go back, revisit a series of moments unearthing details that were initially hidden to my eyes. Then I wake up laughing in the middle of the night. It’s all just a big joke to me.