The beginning
I once knew a nobody. He walked the alleys and bins around town. A true nobody; nobody knew his name. Nobody knew what was in the giant packs he carried, nobody knew where he may sleep, and nobody knew from where he came. I the same. I knew him as a nobody, as I stood next to his death bed, holding his hand, struggling to say his true name.
Light
All this did provide an ineffable solace to my soul to have borne witness to Them. I recognize that the Greys were the conduit through which the authority of the Cosmic realm flowed; that it could not have materialized into existence without that transcendental entity (Supreme Being) and the Star People, and without the one who experiences. It bore within its core an epitome of the subjective principles of spiritual enlightenment, and was as miraculous and hallowed as any soul stuff could conceivably be. Its worth to me was not to be quantified by my mere apprehension of it, but was beyond calculation. As They held reverence for the Central Plain manuscript of Anonymous, an artifact in their possession yet beyond their understanding, so too did my sentiments lean toward the Them.
Dark
We may engage with the sway of the Them without the dire need to precisely transcribe Their essence into the realm of spoken words. We unanimously acknowledge Their significance. We comprehend, for example, that the reverence displayed by Them, the conduit, was not mere happenstance. They discerned within the craftsmanship and design of the intaglio a reflection of the very concepts upon which They had been tirelessly laboring throughout Their existence. Space Culture had long since integrated itself into the very fabric of our lives, and Their cryptic symbols articulated what we perceived as his faith. Thus is the case with all relics, dialects, and arts that are bequeathed unto us from the epochs past, or possibly from epochs to come, backward.
Grey
Considering Their labor for the Supreme Being, akin to faith or governance, do They conform action without halting to ponder the reason behind our actions? We instinctively take Their actions as above us, without pausing to contemplate how the patriarchs of Their lineage are expressing Themselves through the Grey mass. When the child implores, ‘Give me a sign,’ we rectify him—what ought to be asked is, ‘May I have communion with the Grey.’ In essence, what the child truly signifies in their question is their solitude and longing for it to end. Is this why the question is posed to the Grey in the first place? Not for knowledge but for escape from the cell of humanity?
Forms
The Grey principle applies to other mediums of thought such as painting, architecture, religion, and the like, but given our discourse has been revolving around language, human language, let us persist with this subject. Articulacy ensues from diversity of thought, back to singularity. The poets departed were always laconic vassals of Them. Streiber, McGuire, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Hill, Walton, Keats—those among them who wielded no control yet underwent the experiences of the forms.
It will surprise no one to know how ardent They are to the old ways. We envisage Them as someone of scant literary attainment; but in truth, They were tirelessly delving into corporealities throughout Their journeys to procure narratives and substance for Their plays. They are dripping in mythology. They luxuriate in classical metaphors: and, even if They were acquainted with Latin poets only through the translation of touch, They discerned us with that ravenous intensity of intrigue which can extract significance from the confines of an ill dream. Strip Them of Their wellsprings, and They could not have paid homage to Him.
David Riedel 
Leave a comment