Death by Cake

We were thrown into an infinite universe and from its inception, falsely (conceptually) created a finite game.

Everyone's a carrier of Enlightenment, and when you're enlightened you bring out that side of everyone and gain inspiration through all things, being that we are all sourced from the same place and inseparable from God: you just have to be, and inhabit an unconditionally loving presence.

07/04/2055:

It was a full moon the night of the fourth of July when the prime Minister of England exited her temporary, paid-for apartment on the corner of Park and Boardwalk in downtown Santa Monica overlooking the pier. Musicians and artists were busy hustling their wares as per usual, and the scent of cinnamon buns from the local Illuminatrix Cafe were wafting throughout cobblestone streets. A bit drafty, she felt, as the donned a large overcoat and hustled out the door, grabbing and pocketing only her keys, a hologram phone (her Red One) replete with an inner wallet for all of her many credit cards and various door opening coupons and keys to make her city experience a breeze.

So many tasks to do today, but the one thing that was important to her was invisibility: her anonymity. Data protection, presence, perfection, but immutable serenity at all costs. She reached for a wig and adjusted suit and tie, deciding to be a Dominic today and then on second thought reached for her elder lady disguise. She'd conduct a social experiment and see who'd be kind enough to help her cross the street, assist her when she fell, with her groceries, things like that. The rich empress testing the morality of the citizens through donning the cloak of the crone. No one was aware she did these sorts of things, but it had a very real ripple effect out in the world where she could remind everyone that kindness was rewarded, not by its own sake, but doubly by the laws of karma and of course her extremely well endowed pocket strings.

A somber fog permeated the city that day and the clouds looked loaded for rain, so the prime Minister Zara as she was known across the western peninsula and banks of the coast of the UK chucked a small portable hot pink umbrella into her briefcase and carried herself out the door with pristine grace. 🌁 An immaculate woman, in any regard.

She had a function to attend to later that night - a gala on a ship, so she packed a dress and some makeup: nude tones, a discrete rose blush, some nail polish to make her toes look like shiny rainbow seashells, a waterproof eyeliner and musky overtones to add a darker finish to the cream palette. 🎨

Throwing on some gender neutral beige sandals for the final piece, she sauntered out the door, pulling a cane from behind the corner as she let the door bang behind her with a glance. 🚪 👡

Untroubled and unimpoverished as she was, she nevertheless took great joy in relishing the boons of the simple life. Zara preferred to walk or to ride a bike 🚲 rather than take an uber or taxi, or even the bus. 🚌 Public transport had become very good in the past few decades or so, as a high speed rail 🚈 was implemented above the city wires, nationally and globally reducing the carbon output up to 60% and increasing green transportation. This had seemed to improve morale considerably since people weren't constantly tied to the cost of gas, funded through the battle for oil through the immoral wars we sent our youth to fight over overseas, upending beautiful cultures for our own selfish pursuit (and really, only that of the reigning feudal powers).

Adjusting her grey wig, Zara rode off into the sunrise, seeking humble humanitarians to benefit financially through observing their doing of good deeds. She'd take the route along the sea, and arrive at the gala by midday, long enough for her to conduct her (kind) social experiments.

The ocean roared friendly in the breeze, almost spiritually saluting her as the palm trees waved hello 🌴 🤲 🥥

Zara adjusted the strap of her briefcase and felt a noticeable shift in pressure as the energy recapitulated to a state of balance and in this she felt tranquility.

Along the way she began to feel tired, and stopped at a seaside shack of a Cafe, which looked rather humble and new to her. A few bums laid around outside the place, lazily smoking reefer and strumming on their guitar. One of them was a former NBA superstar who'd let the vultures take his money, through myriad bills, utility costs and fees, and then finally bestowed the rest upon the most powerful parasite, addiction. But he'd been off the coke for years now and merely allowed his life to shift into the vagabond lifestyle, having found a quiet rapport amongst the beach bums who didn't judge him based on his height, or weight, or clothes, or how much he could afford to buy when out with his bros and teammates who'd predictably left him as soon as he became poor.

The prime Minister had been away from her perch in London now for several weeks, technically on vacation but unofficially on business (which would be continued later that night at the gala: an impressive showdown of the finest representatives from across the world coming together to organize a global faire of sorts, a great bazaar, a new Olympics... schematics for which were neatly folded up within Zara's handsome briefcase 💼).

She locked up her bike on a dusty telephone pole and briskly walked into the shop which clanged with hippie bells and windchimes as she did so, spirited winds blowing mightily in the air like a shofar or bugle, heralding one's entrance who is strong and exalted within the spiritual realms.

Prayer flags and beautiful native artwork adorned the walls which were composed of brick and mortar. The air smelled faintly of lavender 💜 wafting through the joint like intense, tangled up in notes of cardamom and cinnamon and espresso, which emanated from the machines behind the counter like precious and foreign cologne.

"Three espressos, please, and a chocolate cake," she said.

Because the keeper seemed rather serious and somewhat glum, she endeavored to make a joke to rouse his spirits. "A wolf walks into a bead and breakfast with two thousand pounds - I mean dollars," she says gracefully with a grin beneath her eyes. "He asks for service. What does the inn keeper do?" A helpless shrug. "He says here sir is your breakfast, which room would you like?" Laughter and joy. A semi crude yet vastly humorous metaphor about how society works (everything must be paid for and is indiscriminate to this effect). It gave her pause to think, that evolution for humanity was becoming only a function of which ones could produce the most money. It didn't seem right to her, but as a leader and an esteemed capitalist for the richest country in the world she was encouraged to create the facade of a gilded world (the Bank of England worked hand in hand with the Vatican to and keep the people docile and working, 24/7, to produce for the yield of the GDP). Little did they know that Zara was in fact a rebel herself, a revolutionary as a matter of fact, yearning to help decentralize the economy and redistribute the wealth amongst her subjects and peers, through providing new opportunity for the working class with cryptocurrencies (altcoins), subsidized egalitarian media and technology opportunities at events for independent journalists like drones to capture transparent footage of multinational events, and through innovative colloquiums for every country to come to the table to share, converse, and collaborate on the development of new technologies and startup capital firms.

The pause was only a few seconds but the shopkeeper looked quizzical, and she feared he could see through her disguise. Coffeemakers oftentimes could, given that they were masters of transparency and truth, giving people the juice they needed to awaken individually, interpersonally and eventually, globally, as a more advanced culture and species. Self expression was becoming more of a luxury in the passing times, than an innate right and endowment as it had used to be long before the new age inquisition which is why it was more important than ever before to encourage the decentralization of power and for new leadership to emerge even in the most unlikely, downtrodden of places.

The beach roared luxuriously in the finely tuned mid morning breeze as the prime Minister, clad as an elder, took a seat next to the bums and passed around some tea and chocolate cake. "For you," she said, and they passed the first test by gladly receiving her generous blessing. Selflessness was one of the first virtues shed been taught in finishing school as a child, for shed been blessed to be born into royalty and her family could afford such frivolity (who cared how one folds a napkin or eats at a table so long as they are kind and beneficent to their fellow tribe mates?)

Not a second bite was taken before one of the bums started convulsing wildly, shaking at the core. She tried the Heimlich but the damage had already been done. From behind the table she saw a rainbow golden snake slithering away and realized that perhaps the snake had left some venom within the cake somehow, and noticed the two fang marks left within the piece of cake that the bum had tried to consume.

An ambulance rushed the venom patient to the hospital where upon examination it was determined that he died from snake poison. Meanwhile the prime Minister had snuck away on her bike before the paramedics arrived because she could not endure the bad press it may garner as a result, and what if they found her somehow culpable?

Around that same time, a foreign spy from the Communist Chinese Intelligence party snuck off in a glass see through limousine, undetected because he'd studied the backstreets and were trained to have perfect locational skills, guerilla strategies and maneuvers. His plan backfired however, and he was imprisoned and later expatriated by his own country for treason after they found out that he'd found the Minister yet failed to kill her. For in her selflessness, was her salvation, and she went on to help fund the greatest, most culturally diverse, psycho-spiritually significant, media and money-decentralized Olympic bazaar fair the world had seen that far, sparking countless technological ingenuity and cross-cultural collaboration that the world had seen, launching humanity, through philanthropy, into the future.