My Dance with the Apocalypse
AI artwork by Marko Urosevic
By Marko Urosevic
“I did it! Somehow, I made it to the Apocalypse! After countless lifetimes of waiting, I’m finally here. But how?” I asked myself.
I’ve been writing a novel attempting to answer the question of how I got to this lifetime, but what happened in this one? How did I get here? I pondered.
Then suddenly, the story began to unfold in my mind. I realized it was the Apocalypse itself that brought me here.
It was a summer night in 2018. I remember running to the park where my wife at the time was walking our little dog.
“Hey, I need to tell you something; it’s really important,” I said to her with urgency in my voice.
She calmly picked up the dog, lit a cigarette, and said, “What is it?”
She was used to my regular routine of searching for something, who knows what, but she still had patience for my curious mind.
“So, what is it?” she asked again.
“The Apocalypse is coming!” I exclaimed with all the drama I could muster.
“Cool,” she responded calmly, rolling her eyes.
For her, this was just another typical Marko moment where he would get excited about something new and become obsessed with it.
“I’m telling you! It is coming! I calculated it! It will be here no later than 2046. I’m serious!” I said, trying to add more to my drama.
“Baby, you’re weird! You okay? Last year you decided you’d be the healthiest man in the world, and now you need to tell the world about the Apocalypse?” she asked, concerned that her husband had lost it.
“I know you think it’s a game, but I’m telling you! It’s true! All the science proves it. The physics of the Earth’s magnetic field, archaeology, geology, and not to mention the Bible, Plato, and all the other old scriptures and myths!” I responded, trying to make her understand all the effort I put into solving the mystery.
“Marko, you’ve gotten super weird,” she said as she walked away, shaking her head.
A few weeks later, she was gone, and our dog with her. I was left with an empty apartment, 200,000 dollars in debt, and my “poor little me.”
Nevertheless, I kept searching and searching until finally, I stumbled upon Adamus and the Crimson Circle. Then, everything changed. I completely forgot about my old obsessive distraction of saving the world from destruction. I now had a new “hobby”: saving myself.
After all, I had no choice. I was choosing to be enlightened, but there was one problem – I was both broke and heartbroken. My business was closed because of Covid, and my wife had run off with her new boyfriend.
I was stripped naked. I was left only with myself, my Master, and “Devian the Boss,” his Dragon pet. I was surrounded by the little aspect village of mine where we were all one great family with all its drama. It’s just that I was the only one able to experience it.
I asked myself, how did I get here? I am a nice guy; I was just trying my best. I don’t get it. I have nothing left.
The first person who gave me an answer was… you’re never going to believe it: a stripper.
My friends decided one day to take their desperate friend to a strip club, hoping to get him out of his misery. With much reluctance, I gave in. It was my first time in such a place.
I thought, “What are three champion dancers doing in a strip club? How strange!”
My friends approached one of the beautiful ladies and asked if she could dance for me. They told her that my wife had just left me and that I was miserable. I looked at her with my sad face, hoping she would feel sorry for me.
She just looked back with a big smile and said, “Congratulations!”
Boom, it hit me. In that moment, I realized I had been playing the “poor little me” all along. I was stuck in my own crystal prison. My wife didn’t leave me because of my weird obsessions; it was my victim self. Duh!
I couldn’t believe it took a stripper to reflect back to me my own Master, to show me that I was just playing small. After all, he knew me best. He knew what it would take.
In case you’re wondering what happened that night, well, I ended up teaching her how to spot when she was doing a spin, how to point her toes and stretch her arm. We became good friends. I can’t help but teach, what can I say, it’s just who I am.
I chose to dance my way to enlightenment. I did SES, Aspectology, Threshold, and eventually arrived in Hawaii for my first live event. I almost drowned the day before an actual workshop.
I still remember Adamus’s chuckle as he said, “How was ‘drowning’ in mass consciousness, Marko?”
That’s when I fully realized: “Shit, this is not a game; this whole enlightenment thing is real!”
Regardless, I kept dancing. There were still some sprinkles of drama and much comedy until one day, I almost reached my Realization under the shower one night. I say almost because when it tried to come in, I didn’t want to believe it.
Why, you ask? One perspective is that I wasn’t feeling worthy of it, and the other is that I wanted to do it in style. I chose the latter, after all, you only do it once!
I woke up on the summer solstice in 2021 in the middle of Manhattan after an entire night of fighting with my own doubts. I woke up and finally said, “NO MORE!”
“Fuck you, doubt.”
“I am enlightened!”
“This is it, I am an enlightened being!”
I ran out of the hotel and started walking, having no idea where. The next thing I knew, I remember being in Central Park, sitting between Shakespeare and Christopher Columbus while tears were pouring down my face.
“I am enlightened, damn it!” I proclaimed one more time.
As you can imagine, nobody around really cared. People just kept walking by, looking at this weird dude who was crying and talking to pigeons and a hawk.
Later, I realized those pigeons were my buddies: Beloved St. Germain, Koot Hoomi, and Mary Magdalene – I want to believe. And the hawk was my future self, coming to congratulate me on my choice to accept my Realization.
Waves and waves of self-love followed, along with an immense feeling of self-beauty, which showed me that everything is me, and it always was. Then, I suddenly got scared.
“Shit, don’t die. Don’t poof out and leave, Marko. We need to stay. It’s my last hurrah, I want to stay and enjoy my life for once, damn it,” I said to myself.
Still hungover from my experience, later that week while I was teaching my student how to do a spiral turn in waltz, I said, “Christine, I had my enlightenment. I am an enlightened dude now!”
My student looked at me with all her love and chuckled, “That’s beautiful, Marko, but now, do I turn 1/8 or 3/8 of a turn in this element?” She responded, brushing my statement aside.
“Seriously, I’m telling you!” I said, trying to convince her. “I am enlightened.”
“Sweetie, if you’re happy, I’m happy!” She said, letting me have my fantasy.
I was on such a high that I even went to one of my staff members and blabbed the same. My “Elephant” ego couldn’t help but share my excitement.
“Marko, that’s great. Good for you! By the way, please don’t forget to do payroll today; last week, you forgot to do it on time!” He responded, while sipping his Starbucks coffee, completely uninterested in my statement.
Even though my human self was disappointed with what enlightenment really was, I still kept dancing in it. I couldn’t levitate or melt diamonds, but I was now always clear. My motto was, “If I don’t like it, I don’t do it!”
This eventually brings me to March 22, 2023, and “Heaven’s Cross Day.” The day my soul and I had waited for thousands, if not millions, of years. The “D Day” of Shaumbra.
It had been four months since I left the “Blameland,” I mean mainland, and “Muggleville,” the town I lived in. I moved to Hawaii, the true paradise on Earth. I integrated many of my lifetimes, let go of all my doubts and fears, and felt like there was nothing else to let go of. I was free of everything, or so I thought. I mean, I’m even writing a book, come on! I am ready; bring it on!
I looked at Geoff, Linda, and all the staff, thinking, “This is it. We are finally here.” Melancholy was taking over. The ancient mission was right here. We made it.
When the moment came for Beloved St. Germain to ask us all to go to the altar and let go of everything that wasn’t serving us, I thought, “Well, I’m good; I have nothing left.”
In that moment, I felt a gentle voice say, “Give it, Marko. It’s time to let go!”
This struck me.
“I have nothing left,” I responded.
“Come on, Marko, give me your Akasha’s cesspool.” my soul asked.
“But I love my past,” I said, trying to negotiate with my own soul.
“It’s time, Marko! Give it to me; it’s over!” she responded.
With all my tears, I took all of my stories from “Akasha,” my favorite pacifier, and handed it to my soul.
“Here, take it,” I said, as I was now sobbing like a child whose parent took their favorite toy.
The rest you all know; we all went to Heaven’s Cross. The only feeling I can come up with to describe it would be the sense of “completion.” It was simply epic!
While I was running through the “gates” of Heaven’s Cross, I felt like this NBA player high-fiving all the Crimson Council angels on both sides, finally arriving at my home, my own soul.
After the event, everyone who was there at the shoot was speechless. I mean, what could be said? Simply nothing.
“Wait, where is my drama moment, where is the crescendo you promised, Adamus?” I thought later that day under my shower. “There were no earthquakes, no spaceships, no volcanic eruptions. Was this just a joke?”
In that moment, I felt the most beautiful, loving energetic hug one can only receive from their own soul. “I am here to thank you for setting me free,” said an angel.
“I waited for eons for this moment, and I came to tell you that I love you and I am proud of you! I am now free from my ancient commitment! One that goes way before Earth. We are free, Marko! You are free. No more mission. Now there is only passion.”
As I cried my eyes out, I realized Saint Germain was right all along. It was personal after all. It was only ever my own Apocalypse.
AI artwork by Marko Urosevic
In that moment, my pre-Earth angel came to me and returned the part that was left behind before I went down to Earth: my yellow-golden angel heart.
“It’s yours now; you are free,” he said, and left with his angel wings soaring free through the void of my soul.
This experience left me feeling complete and yet empty. My soul was singing with the joy of wholeness, while my human felt like it lost part of its identity, the mission.
Here I am now, on the 23rd, writing this little story—a new story. A story written from the pure passion of the soul. I’ve hung my mission shoes on the wall; it’s all over. We are going into the new, into the unscripted future, into the new energy.
I honor you, dear Shaumbra, my ancient best friends. It has been quite a journey. A lot of tears, laughter, and drama. But we made it; we are now free to soar wherever we choose.