We’re past the point where humility is helping. At this stage, it might actually be holding us back.

 We’re past the point where humility is helping.

At this stage, it’s starting to get in the way.

We've spent too long circling ideas, theorizing, waiting for some cosmic green light or a blueprint labeled “Grand Design.” Screw that. Based on gut instinct — and years of watching humanity up close and from a distance — I’ll say it plainly:

It’s time.
Time to stop flirting with metaphysics and make it physical.
Not later. Not when it's safe. Now.

Here’s my first suggestion:

People everywhere are reporting lucid dreams — vivid, surreal, hyper-real. And in these dreams, many say they meet other humans. Not symbols. Not archetypes. People. Real-seeming people. So here’s the ask:
When you're there — ask for their number. Phone. Email. Something. Wake up. And wait.
Let’s see if dream-people show up Earth-side.

Sound crazy? Maybe. But Bob Monroe’s research — under lab conditions — already proved that shared astral experiences happen. They logged it. Repeated it. It’s data. And if people still laugh at that? Fuck them.
They’ll catch up. Or they won’t. We’re moving anyway.

Now, the second idea is a little more... out there. Something only someone like me — a self-declared “General” in this weird frontier — would say aloud:

Let’s make a cosmic request.
Not whispers. Not encrypted crop-circle stuff.
I mean a full-blown armada of scout ships, loud and proud over Piccadilly or Wall Street, kind of like the Phoenix Lights over Arizona back in ‘97.

You know the one: giant triangular crafts in formation across the sky. At the time, Governor Fife Symington mocked it — even staged a press conference with a fake alien. Total piss-take.
But after leaving office? He admitted it.
Said he saw the damn thing himself.
Said it was real.

So maybe it’s time we ask again. Not for secrecy. Not shadows.

But flying f*ing technicolor.**

Just for the hell of it.
Just to make people look up and feel something.
Just to rattle the sleepers, wake the half-awake, and remind the rest that we’re not alone — and never were.

Because we can.
And because — at this point — why the hell not? Fuck this shit

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