Понимаешь зделать это очень и чень сложно, т.к. человек сразу воспринимает все в штыки, т.к. эти знаия противоречат его знаниям, его жизни, это как защитная функция!

А что касается Архонтов - "На каждого Виджая найдется Раджа", я думаю не долго им людей обманывать осталось

И дважды в одну воду не войдёшь.

Добавлено (13.05.2008, 17:01)
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А Письмо потрясающее. Особенно подпись Анастасии.

Story of a Youth meeting Wisdom at first glance seems naïve. But this common perception – is just an illusory barrier, skillful trap, set up by our ego on the path to immaculate spirit. The One, who will overcome it, will discover more than it’s even possible to hope for. Hail to the Winner – because Knowledge will be His prize, because Truth will be unveiled.
This book was written from a personal diary notes of a former high school senior – Anastasia, reflecting events of years 1990-1991.

Prologue.
Silent, warm summer night has long entered into it’s sovereign rights, relieving bustling day with all it’s important and troublesome running about. It’s deep-dark veil was calming and sweetly lulling all living, slowly submerging in nurturing sleep. This charms weren’t affecting perhaps, only hearts that were in love, for whom eternity seemed to pass in an instant. On the sea shore, in uninhabited place, fire crackled lonely, casting mysterious shadows. Beside it, sat, a lone, formless creature. It’s only witness was an infinite universe, brightly illuminated by cosmic worlds, and moon, inviting into eternity by it’s silvery sparkling path on the water surface. Around was such a stillness, that even the sea couldn’t dare to disturb it by soft rustle of it’s waves. Seemed like time has stopped for ever, loosing all it’s meaning. It was the moment of eternity.
Creature moved, making strange sounds, and slowly started to divide into two worrying parts. A human speech could be heard in the air:

- God, how good can it sometimes be in this sinful world.
- Honestly, I don’t even want to leave.
- That’s what I’m telling you.

Fire was blazing brightly, jealously trying to win back a piece of space from the night. It’s luminous glares with variable success were first swollen by the darkness and then fearlessly escaping far ahead, illuminating nature in her natural tones.

- What will be your verdict, Rigden ?
- My conclusions are, of course, sad. But I think it’s worth to wait a little with a final decision … I suppose, it’s worth to remain here for some time.
- It’s not all that bad. Especially, since you decided to stay, give them another chance and let me…

Suddenly, from nowhere a light breeze flew over the sea, breathing life into the moonlit path, that captivatingly sparkled with its hues, alluring into a hazy distance. Nature as if on purpose was teasing the creature, from one side embracing it with eternity and from the other with it’s natural earthly beauty. Apparently, in this naïve gust was hidden some innermost, know only to her, mystery.

имел ввиду западного человека

это то что им нужно потому-что, эти зерна пробьются через плотные облака их мыслей.

не потеряется когда пишет "сердце" а не личность, оно аж обливается любовью от этой "работы"

Добавлено (03.06.2008, 19:16)
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И ещё переведённое будет звучать примерно как разговор мастера Ёды в звёздных войнах, весь мир подстраивался под эту культуру, теперь их очередь, это должно сломать сломать тщеславие, ибо это их последний шанс.

The book of Anastass New. « Sensei. Primordial a Shambhala »

The narration of the Youth about collision with Wisdom at first sight seems naivety. But this ordinary perception — only illusory barrier, the skilful trap placed by our Ego on a way to faultlessness of Spirit. The one who will overcome it, will open for itself much greater, rather than he could hope. Praise to the Winner — Knowledge that will be the award to him, because secret will becomes for him reality.
The book is made according to notes of a personal diary ex-high schoolgirl, that was reflecting events in 1990 - 1991.

Prologue

Still, mild summers night has already entered for a long time the sovereign rights, having replaced fussing day with all its important troublesomeness and petty vanity. Its dark coverlet calmed down and lulled sweet all alive, slowly immersing into a deep sleep. These charms did not operate an instant unless on enamoured hearts at which the eternity flew by as a in a split second. On a sea shore in a deserted place lonely flickered a fire, casting quaint mysterious shadows. Near it sat lonesome a shapeless essence.
The witness of its presence was only infinite Universe, brightly illuminating the star worlds, yes the Moon inviting in eternity by the path silver-shining on a water smooth surface. Around there was such silence, what even the sea did not dare to disturb its easy rustle of waves. It seemed, time forever has stopped, having lost all sense. It was a instant of eternity.
The essence has begun to move, uttering not clear sounds, and began to be divided slowly on two pottering about parts. In air human speech was heard:
— Oh God, it’s nice sometimes can be here in this guilty world.
— Telling the truth, even don’t want to leave.
— Here and I about the same.
The flame of a fire blazed brightly, zealously trying to retake from night a slice of space. Its light patches of light with variable success now were absorbed by darkness, now were safely pulled out far forward, shining the nature its originals tones.
— So what decision will be yours, Rigden?
— My conclusions, certainly, are sad. But nevertheless I think to wait a little bit with the final decision … Perhaps, it is necessary to stay here a little longer.
— But it’s not all so bad. Especially, since you has decided to remain, give them one more chance and allow me …
At this moment goodness knows where from above the sea was sweep over a light breeze, recovering a lunar path. The last has begun to sparkle silvery, attracting in a mysterious distance. The nature as if teased specially an essence, on the one hand surrounding with its eternity, and with another – natural terrestrial beauty. Apparently, in this unostentatious impulse hided some inmost, knowing only to it one secret.