Last call from Earth
Homo Sapiens' saga for survival
Rupturian Poetry
Quantum Baby Strings

Quantum baby strings and their twins, quantum baby waves
are born out of the womb of nothingness:
The mother of being.

They live: become space, time, matter, energy… antimatter
as per their persuasion and then,
at the time of dying,
go back to the realm of nothingness:
The tomb of being.

Background: What are we, but a hologram?

The parallel dimension is the background of our personal reality.
I create your eyes; you create mine;
And when we embrace, we create each other.

Parallelon Waves in the Parallel Dimension

Infinitely small,
in a continuous metamorphosis between Not-Being and Being…and back again to Not-Being

Now they are and yet,
they are-not.
Now they are-not and yet,
they are.


Tepeu took the box with the two spheres in his hands and raised it up in front of the multitude, the one right there at Central Park
and the 10 billion viewers watching the event on Earth and all over the Ptolomeo Dual Spiral.

Everyone erupted in cheers.
The cheers vibrated and reverberated in a cohesive quantum resonance that spread beyond The Spiral to the four corners of the

Something important for humanity was about to happen…
Being and Not-Being shook hands symmetrically in anticipation of the event.

Baby strings and their twins, baby waves, smiled and danced over the edge of edges of all dimensions and layers of reality.


Web of waves waving, that’s what we are.
Web of waves waved, that’s what we were.

Reality of Realities

At least one man needs to be alive for the Human Reality to exist.

To the Natural Reality, I am less than a drop of water in the ocean... less than the dust of dust...

But in my Personal Reality I am what I am: all encompassing.

I am God’s most precious creation.
The world exists for me to exist.

When I die, when I swim into the deep sea of death,
She, the ship of the universe, will sink with me.

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Al Herr