Cocoon Up!

How to Use the God State as a Protective Cocoon

There are days when it feels like the world is unraveling faster than we can stitch it back together. Headlines scream about billionaires buying up suddenly available public lands, politicians auctioning off sacred burial grounds, and entire ecosystems being signed away with the flick of a pen. You can protest, write letters, donate, scream into the void—but there’s another option that cuts through the chaos: step into the God State and just get away from it all.

The God State isn’t escapism — It’s not about pretending that everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t. It’s about stepping out of the emotional trap and into a frequency where the world can’t get its hooks in you. When you’re in the God State, the noise doesn’t hit the same. It bounces off. You’re clear. Calm. You see what’s happening, but you’re not shaken by it. You act from a higher place because you’re IN a higher place.

That’s the power of the protective cocoon: it’s not armor. It’s resonance. While others are spinning in fear, anger, or helplessness, you’re radiating stillness, clarity, and resolve. You don’t lose your spiritual power, you amplify it. You become a sanctuary, not just for yourself, but for anyone near enough to feel your field and benefit from it.

So when the world sells the last of its poor wretched souls, don’t stand there in line trying to sell yours. Step back, tune up, and stay in the God State. From there, you’re untouchable—and paradoxically, more effective at creating real Safe Harbor.

And remember: the SuperBeacon, CQR amulets, Diode Radio earrings, and wearable Protective Sigils are powerful tools—anchors that help you stay tuned no matter what’s blowing up around you. They help you remain in the God State regardless of the provocations you might have to endure. Think of them as sacred tech for a collapsing world.

Speaking of collapsing worlds, I thought it might be wise to convert all our Dharma Teaching into songs that might survive the coming zombie apocalypse.

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Song: God State Cocoon

[Verse 1]
They’re selling off the silence,
Paving paradise again,
Putting price tags on the mountains,
And fences through the wind.
But I don’t fall for madness,
Don’t answer to the call—
I slip into stillness
And rise above it all.

[Chorus]
I’m wrapped in the God State,
Nothing gets through.
While the world goes shaking,
I stay true.
It’s clear in here,
No fear, no hate—
I’m safe in the cocoon
Of the God State.

[Verse 2]
Anger like a wildfire,
Grief like driving rain,
News bites and sound fights,
Tearing at my brain.
But I breathe and drop it,
Don’t let it in the gate—
I hold to the center
And resonate.

[Chorus]
I’m wrapped in the God State,
Nothing gets through.
While the world goes shaking,
I stay true.
It’s clear in here,
No fear, no hate—
I’m safe in the cocoon
Of the God State.

[Bridge]
The SuperBeacon hums in time,
CQR’s around my neck,
Sigils flashing on my skin,
I’m grounded, tuned, in check.
Diode earrings catching light—
Tools of light and grace,
Holding the line
In a fracturing place.

[Final Chorus]
I’m wrapped in the God State,
Whole and awake.
While systems crumble,
I will not break.
Still and bright,
At Heaven’s gate—
I’m safe in the cocoon
Of the God State.

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How to Stay in the God State at the DMV]

[verse 1]
Took a number—thirty-seven,
It’s been called since half-past eleven.
The line don’t move, the lights all hum,
Someone’s breathin’ loud through bubblegum.
But I’m floatin’, smilin’, feelin’ great,
I’m stayin’ in the God State.

[chorus]
God State at the DMV,
Can’t take my soul, can’t fluster me.
The printer’s jammed, the system’s down,
But I’m not wearin’ that worry frown.
Just one with Source, beyond the hate—
That’s how you stay in the God State.

[verse 2]
A toddler’s screamin’ like a ghost,
The clerk moves slower than burnt toast.
Someone’s got nine forms to fill,
The AC’s off and the room’s all still.
But I just breathe and radiate,
I choose the God State.

[bridge]
[whispered] Mantra loopin’ in my mind,
SuperBeacon tuned and kind,
CQR swingin’ on my chest,
Diode earrings do the rest.
Sigil glowin’ like a gate,
[spoken] Step on through… to the God State.

[final chorus]
Yeah, God State at the DMV,
Let ‘em digitize infinity—
I’m tuned up, turned in, wide awake,
A sacred calm no stress can shake.
Let ’em call my name three hours late—
I’ll still be smilin’…
God State.

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So there are two songs related to the use of the God-State as a protective cocoon defense against lower forces and of course, dark side forces, of which there are plenty.

The God-State is generally open, but it can be used as a protective barrier as well as an opening and healing mission.

Song: Everything Else Is

[verse 1]
I watched the world dissolve today,
The buildings faded into clay.
The sky was painted, thin and torn,
And time felt like a uniform.
The people moved like shadow plays—
I blinked, and they all slipped away.

[chorus]
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.
Not the form, not the feel—
But the silence in the stillness.
Not the light, not the kiss—
But the space that holds all this.
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.

[verse 2]
The news was noise, the money lies,
The mirror told me ancient skies.
The name I signed, the breath I took—
They vanished like a storybook.
And yet…
Something watched me through it all—
Unmoved, untouched, eternal call.

[chorus]
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.
Not the game, not the goal—
But the watcher in the witness.
Not the dream, not the script—
But the hand that holds the slip.
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.

[bridge]
[spoken softly]
Phenomena come and go—
Flickers on the screen.
But non-phenomena?
That’s the space between.

[final chorus]
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.
Not the dance, not the spin—
But the silence deep within.
So I sit in the God State still,
Where nothing bends me to its will.
Nothing is real…
But everything else is.

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Remain Silent

I was watching the news, and someone mentioned that it’s always better to say nothing than to say something. Keep silent and sort it all out later, under oath. Well, this gives me an idea for a song, but before I launch into a song, here’s a little background to help you follow the sense:

So, any attorney worth their weight in childcare benefits will tell you that if someone snatches you up in some sort of government action, you have certain basic rights, even if you’re not a citizen. Those are called your Miranda Rights, and you have the right to insist on invoking them.

The Miranda Rights are named after the 1966 U.S. Supreme Court case Miranda v. Arizona, which ruled that anyone taken into police custody must be informed of their Constitutional Rights before interrogation. The core bits:

You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.

Funny thing—those are meant to protect your Constitutional Rights… but they also remind us how close we all are to being caught in the machine without due process or basic rights.

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Remain Silent — Dedicated to the ACLU:

[verse 1]
They pulled me in, lights in my face,
Asked some questions ’bout a time and place.
I smiled calm, didn’t shift my stance,
Just gave the air a thoughtful glance.
Didn’t mumble, didn’t rant—
Didn’t say a word, ’cause I know I can’t.

[chorus]
Remain silent—best thing you can do.
Shut up first, sort it out later—it’s true.
You don’t owe a single clue.
Remain silent—ride it on through.
Silence is golden… and admissible too.

[verse 2]
The badge said “talk,” the lawyer said “don’t,”
Fear said “maybe,” but I knew I won’t.
You can’t unsay what you blurt too fast,
And every word might haunt you last.
So zip that lip, don’t feed the flame—
You’re not required to play their game.

[chorus]
Remain silent—best thing you can do.
Shut up first, sort it out later—it’s true.
They’ll twist your words before you’re through.
Remain silent—let ’em stew.
Silence is armor… and it’ll carry you.

[bridge – spoken blues]
“You have the right…”
Yeah, I do.
“You have the right to an attorney…”
I’ll take two.
“Anything you say…”
Then I’ll say nothing.
Shut up first, sort it out later—
That ain’t bluffin’.

[final chorus]
Remain silent—be cool, be wise.
Shut up first, no alibis.
Let ’em guess, let truth surprise.
Remain silent—don’t improvise.
Truth don’t need a microphone…
It already testifies.

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If anyone can get this song to the attention of the ACLU and the SPLC, they’re welcome to use it free of copyright constraint.

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[verse 1]
Welcome to Alcatraz, sunshine and stone,
We carved out your future in barbed wire and bone.
No need for questions, no need for clocks—
Here’s two dolls, five pencils, and twenty cold locks.
We took your name, your shoes, your socks—
But hey, we’re generous behind these blocks.

[chorus]
Let them eat cake on the Rock,
White bread dreams under hard-time stock.
Two dolls to hug when the lights go out,
Five pencils for letters you’ll never send out.
No uprising, no time to talk—
Let them eat cake on the Rock.

[verse 2]
You wanted freedom? It’s in your cell—
Next to the sink, where the silence fell.
A ragged hymn hums down the hall,
But don’t you dare write it on the wall.
We ration hope by the chalkboard tick,
And we smile while you choose your stick.

[chorus]
Let them eat cake on the Rock,
White bread and rules that never unlock.
Two dolls to keep your dreams in line,
Five pencils to draw your disappearing spine.
No revolution, no aftershock—
Let them eat cake on the Rock.

[bridge – spoken]
They say it was a joke—
“Cake” meant bread,
White, pure, and proper.
The kind that crumbles
when you think too loud.

[final chorus]
Let them eat cake on the Rock,
Where the sea don’t listen and the keys don’t knock.
Two dolls, five pencils, and a world gone wrong,
But no one’s singing your liberty song.
Just echo and echo and a ticking clock…
Let them eat cake—
On the Rock.

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Well, that’s enough songwriting for an evening. I was beginning to run out of rhyming lyrics, and there were a few close calls on timing and rhyming on those songs I’ve posted here, but that’s the real secret — not minding that it hurts.

I also ran out of issues that I could reasonably take into song form without losing the fun and the interest, but I know that a day won’t go by when Donnie isn’t doing something dreadfully nasty. He can’t help it — that’s called “compulsion”, and he has it, real bad. Can’t stop himself from being naughty and destructive.

Hey…I just thought of a subject that I could add in here:

The Madness of King Donald

[Song Title: “The Symptom Checklist”]
Style: Cabaret satire / theatrical jazz revue
Tempo: Snappy and sly, with room for pauses in the spoken lines
Mood: Darkly humorous, clinical, ironic

[verse 1]

Thinks he’s the Pope—vestments and lace,
Blesses Big Macs with solemn grace.
Thinks he’s the Christ, reborn and tan,
With secret plans and holy scan.
Thinks Greenland’s his, and Gaza too,
Wants to paint the moon red, white, and blue.

[chorus]
Dementia praecox? (Yes indeed!)
Grand delusions? (Full stampede!)
Messiah syndrome? (Every day!)
Reality check? (Gone astray!)

[verse 2]
He sues the sea for being wet,
Claims the sky is in his debt.
He tweets the angels late at night,
Demanding halos trimmed in white.
Has visions where the Founders kneel,
To sign a lease on his latest deal.

[chorus]
Narcissistic? (To the bone!)
Paranoid? (When he’s alone!)
Psychotic breaks? (With extra flair!)
Thinks the Lord lives in his hair!

[bridge – spoken, mock-clinical tone]
“Patient exhibits persistent fantasy,
Delusions of grandeur with divine prophecy,
Compulsive lying, gold obsession…
Diagnosis? Presidential possession.”

[verse 3]
He rewrote scripture, page by page,
Cut out the poor and added rage.
He crowned himself with a MAGA hat,
And called the Sermon “Deep State Chat.”
His gospel’s filed in Chapter Tweet,
With photoshopped sandals on golden feet.

[chorus – extended]
Legal counsel? (Won’t advise!)
Press briefing? (Full of lies!)
Memory gaps? (Canyons wide!)
Thinks the Constitution’s something he tried.

[final chorus – slower, deliberate]
Reality’s gone, but the suit still fits,
Signed executive orders with crayon bits.
He stares in the mirror and hears a choir—
Of lawyers, angels, and deep state wire.
The world holds its breath, but he just grins—
And asks what time the Rapture begins.

[closing tag – spoken, quiet clinical tone]
Patient remains delusional…
But fully active on social media.