#thesecretwar

THE SECRET WAR by Darak Akim Bey

- Preface -

I took some time off of work, to get away from the labor. After six days I Am rested, refreshed, and rededicated. Only now with this revitalized strength I cannot pour it into my life freely. It has been sourced from Me by the Federalist. I see the Matrix, I Am in it and I have to get out of it. This is an experiment on an ongoing battlefield. I must write for My liberation. Writing is My liberation. I liberate My Mind and give insight to others. I have to write about Ayiti and the American Republic and my place. Through coercion, confusion and elementary conditioning I've been led to trust the colony with my life. I look over at Old Glory, fluttering, surveying in the wind and even She asks me, “Why?”

If it were to end today, would I fight for My oppression? There were some things I recognized, yet hadn't reconciled. I could feel the coldness and inhumanity of My tax dollars. I could smell the rotting corpse of Autonomy, still alive, but barely breathing. Being fed, but barely eating. Groaning loudly, yet rarely speaking. In a World where a land of high mountains and it's people are robbed, where we wrestle against wickedness in high places; a world where poverty is good for the economy, where bitter is for sweet. What is unthinkable?

My labor has been sourced from Me. By the sweat of My brow do I eat, I toil for the things G-d gifted Me, in this colony. I see the Matrix, I Am in it and I have to get out of it. Those bad habits I have are a matrix, my environment. That which is in My immediate control should remind Me of My true ideals and wills. Those patterns that I find Myself looping through are the things that I let program Me, instead of programming Myself. I recognize the cycles, I sleep walk at times, at least that's how I feel when I don't feel in control. Is it not otherworldly to inure a generation, a Child? This mystery system isn't so mystical, it's the exploitation of Human complexities and behaviors.

I used to believe that the government was corrupt by default, but how else would I expect the infiltrator, the illegal administration to treat Me. It is My power they value the most as long as My autonomy is not attached. "I need to feed My Child. I need care for My Elder. I need water to drink. I need sleep to breathe. I bomb Children. I lynch Elders. I poison Waters. I pollute the Mind. I pay My taxes." Perspective is everything. My taxes fund everything.

I visit Myself in the evenings and judge My actions of the day. There are things that haunt Me some days. I haunt Me some days. I know why You want Me to sulk, I see why You want Me to dread in My Youth. Conviction has become a familiar friend of Mine, born of Your intentions for My demise. I Am who they coerce to mine these mountains, clear these forests, and pave these roads. I Am who they strong arm to harvest this cane, separate this cotton, cure this tobacco. I Am the labor paying for their lavishness, enabling their greed.

I Am pulled in this direction, so that I don't look inward. I Am pushed that way, so that I don't look inward. I Am told to look there, so that I don't look inward. I Am told to wait for salvation, so that I don't find salvation within. I feel ashamed, having not lived up to who I Am. Being betrayed by Man does not excuse Me from cultivating who I Am. As a tree thrives on top of a mountain cliff I have to make use of Myself and the position granted to Me. My part plays a part in the grand remedy.I shouldn't be who I was yesterday. I shouldn't be doing the same things I was doing last week. I shouldn't be viewing life with the same mindset I had four seasons ago. I should be elevated in who I Am constantly.

Walking among the people in public spaces, I feel out of place. Is My strength My willingness to fight the false security of the illusionist or does it make Me a target in this occupation? Whether the novice can see the battlefield or not, it is real for Me. It is real and the war rages on. It is invisible, it is cold, but it is happening. I Am not a military lieutenant with legions at my command. My weapons of mass resurrection are My dearest accomplices. My humility to be resurrected is My nearest gift.

I see Myself within the context of the Lieber Codes, the Hague and Geneva Conventions. I see Myself within the articles of the Barbary treaties. I see Myself within the text of Papal Bulls. I see Myself where I was once blind. I see Myself within the context of scripts written by ancient Judeans. I see Myself within the hieroglyphics of Khemeth. I see Myself within the text of Vedas. I see Myself within. I see Myself where I could not see Myself before.

There were many illusions that I fought with and there are millions of artifices I fight with daily. I Am learning to trust My Intuition and to live in peace in My Mind. There is a voice, a comrade, who is a comforter to Me and then there are whispers from shadows, looking to cast a net. I pull back the curtains to see who's looking back, I check under the bed because I have a question for the boogeyman. I shine light down the darkest allies and reignite the fires of the dimmest hopes. I do so because I have to know who's with Me when I Am alone. I pulled back the curtains and it was My reflection I saw. I asked the boogeyman a question and it was I who answered back. I shined light into the deepest allies of My Mind and saw Myself. I did not put Myself here, I have never been alone, I Am Soul.

There is this country and that state, and that county and this city. There is this army and that navy, that guard and this militia. There is this church and that mosque, that synagogue and this temple. I was told the House of G-d was built by the hands of Man. It is said the Vicar is G-d on Earth. That He is a frail and soft spoken kind of Man. World leaders pay homage to this Vicar. It is said when in Rome to do as the Romans. It is obvious that Rome has been brought to Me. Yet, this War is not all about the fight. To live in purpose and true to The Most High G-d within Me is the greatest form of resistance I have. I have only one way to combat conquest, self-respect.

I recognize that My opposition is more covert than flesh and blood. The damage done feels as the burn of frostbite. I snipped the strings that My enemy had tied to Me. His every will for Me was to steal, kill and destroy in the hopes that I would never build. I notice the birds don't suffer the way I do and that the unjust receive the same breath of life that I do. I notice that the rain comes regardless of whose blood runs. I see the War for what it is and now it feels like I Am living. If I conform now, it would have been better for Me to take My own life. - The Secret War