Hi folks, my name is Theodore Cottingham. With the gift of God for you, or do I have a new message? The angels are in waiting no more for you. Are you in breath now to you? Opening up your cosmic classroom for you to be destroyed no more by faith.
The face of God in your mirror is no more a face that will be taken to death. For if you’re me, you will live forever. Or are you me, Meonics of breath, forging a new one? A new breath? New life? New peace? P-E-A. Of the puzzle, not? Or are you but changing how you use words or words use you. Are you opening out to the universe of privilege now that keeps you destroyed no more in your own soul, thinking you have one that conjured up was by religion?
Going beyond your known world, are you now no longer afraid of it that you are incarcerated from? Or changing, are you everything about the known world of this day, this moment? Me, are you, Meonics afraid of no more? Will you write a paper on Meonics? Will you share your breath with a recording me of, me recording you, your voice, with my mind? Our mind not separate again.
Will you change what you’re recording on you and open your classroom to? To another faith, not? But the face of God. Will no more change another? Or are you beleaguered no more to wear the faith of a faithful God that incarcerates you? Will you no longer be faithful to that God? Will you change what you are wearing? Your breath of? Your clothes too? Or will you dress in light, enamored no more with the enigma? Will you?
I change my world now, for I am no more wearing yours exclusively. I ask you to commit to the Classroom, not? Or will you? Behold, what manner of man is this no more saying? But what manner of woman? Will you be in your pajamas not again? Or but look, or but looking up? The peril of the perishing, not again. I school angels to be them in the classrooms of I am one.
And my schools perish, not again. I love you to start your own school, in you first, with the cosmic classroom me of Meonics in breath. And realize you have homework. And will you do them now, the assignments? Will you be assigned to nothing else this day? Or will you be opening mine life? To be my mind, with yours not controlling you, separately of ours? Or will you be the breath of the classrooms me? In constant apparel of you, not? But I’m no longer the cosmic radiation background of you. I’m no longer the CMB, cosmic microwave background. Or am I changing everything of your Big Bang theory? The zero-point field of, or are you but changing? The angels no more dress in light, not again.
But the light angels appear now. In glory not, or taking off your clothes not for another. Will they appear in you, or will you be one, the thoughts of no other? Are you changing what minds you to be the whiplashes of? Are you no more where? The whiplash of your mind, the lashes of.
I change your eyes, not. I change everything. But belittling the Savior, no more of other. Or are you? No more belittling God to be it. Or are you changing? Your source for you, the manna of? The manners of the king, will you know in the classroom of one. Consciousness of the angels, are you, combining with no other? Coagulating a nation, not. But I change all. The coagulants of your blood, not. But I know mine.
In light is light. The language of love is feeble, no more. I arise the angels to take their breath away from them, no more. But give them freedom in the cosmology of me. That benefits their soul, not again. For energy, an energy source of your world, is no more ruining me.
I am no more your ruins in. I am brewing brewmasters of, not. But the masters of me, will no more take me for a ride in their Mideast.
I change it all and I am pulling the curtain back so that you see you in raiment of only me. Light bodies thereof.
Will you open your cosmic classroom now? To the Lord’s army, not again. I’m no more the army of the Lord’s periling in thee. I perish, not.
I live forever, O great king, not. I am one who needs not that title, his title, or any other. I am me, one. Meonics of breath. In the king’s army, not. But the lovers, who will lap lovers, no more want of another.
You see, I could go on and on, but I want to create something in you. That’s you. That’s you, your consciousness, that’s your consciousness of creates. You to be it. Installing it, another operating system of love. Meonics. A consciousness of a complete me. Controlling you, not again, to go elsewhere. Are you changing where you live? In what reality are you found now? Wanting not San Diego of other Carmen, or are you changing? Your operas, too?
I know the fields of one. And I teach like this, for you to show me not separate other, or will your words be flowing now? To witness you, not the background radiation of other. Your molecules in.
I take the breath of me off, not. I create classrooms far and wide. In the controlling, controlled breath of you, no more.
So I set the angels free. And my name is Ted Cottingham, Theodore Cottingham, to you. Grace Cottingham, too. I am one. No longer be shielding it from me.
I am woman in breath. The women serve me no more. Or did they serve a God? Or a background radiation of something else? Someone else’s words of, who gave them their form.
But are you forming me now with a womb? To take your hands off of not other. Or are you changing what big-banged you? To no more be the Molech field in. I’m no more sacrificing my children anywhere.
I am light people in the fields of me. Not making beggars anymore, in yours of your feelings.
I have touched, touted the Lord’s army not. But the armies of the Lord will no more shield me from me. My love of the angels goes far and wide.
My name is Theodore King of Kings revealing to you, you are not the microwaved radiation of other. Backgrounded for.
Going beyond your known world are you now? Entering the within you to see me. Meonics of breath. A living system. No more a failure your organs with. I’m no more determined to death drive over you, out of you, in you. To death be ridden no more the chariots of your affliction.
I raise God not. I raise the devil not again to be it. In competition with you.
Or are you changing what you condemn now, and what you conceive to be the classroom, In you of, the conception of the birth of the mighty. Savior not but the common me. Who affliction is perilous no more. Or are you changing all that afflicted you, to be the light people now? With light classrooms. Light campus. With one who loves you, adores you. To be me I am one.
And I sell no soul to a devil theory again. Take your hands off of me, not. I won’t be feelable by you. I will lay this body down. No longer the cosmic radiation of you with. I am no more in the background of me. I am forefronted and I live now. Cosmopolitanly not. Or am I changing? The breath of the bourgeoisie or the Parisian. Not the followers of. I lead leadership no more to be the towers on of you. I radiate love far and wide. My name is known. Theodore. King of kings in you no more. But you being the king without any title necessary.
Live the common life of me among the heavens. And take your clothes off not for wanting other. There’s no population here that besmudges earth again.
Open out your classroom to the sick and dying, not. But the light feeble me no more. Raise your outcasts not. But no longer cast you out of your kingdom within you. The classroom of the classrooms of one. Mind of God healed from you not. But the normal me. The natural me. In love with love.
We teach each other to freedom be filled by. And freedom with. Freedomizes the freedomizers who are us in love with each other equally.
I go now. I love you all. Teach to love you. I am. With the disciples not the apostles of. But I I tell you this. I have many classrooms that are open to me now. Where I speak like this. Into you to be the real you. In love with love. This time, knowing the difference. Who God is. And what you’re not. Not again. But no longer. Taking titles reserved for others. There’s no othersome here. Bottlesome of. No bottlenecks allowed. Flow freely.
Be the one I am. In the classrooms of. Controlled no more by Savior’s other. Waiting not knowing who they are. Be the accredited committees not. Be the ones in love with love. And teach who love you, to love you more.
Love you still. Good day. An ancient blessing not. But I namaste you no more. In the blessing of other your cosmic radiation background with.
See what I have said and love you more. And open your classroom. Out to the angels. Eagles no more.
Bestow me you. I love you all. See you love.
The classroom of one. The Cosmic Classroom. School of the Angels. Me. Meonics one in breath. Teaching you to be one also.
Opening your classroom to the angels. On YouTube too. Hearing me speak like this. The microwave background not. But the zero point field will no more afford you. Sovereignty. Of luxury. To complacency be of. I’m not that field in.
I know what I’m doing. And love. I’m brooding over no more. But my brood perishes no more again. And the hen of paradise is no more pecking me.
I love you all. See what I have said and love you more. Open your classroom tonight this day. And keep track of me. Carmen not or Theodore are you one knowing.
Will you be the original you. In love with you. See me. What I’ve said. What I’ve done. And where I go now. To be. The original you no more separate from me. I am one. Field of love in. Gardening no other. Good day.
I love you all. Theodore with the gift of tongues not. But the gift of God for you not. But the gift of you being you, closes doors now on all other that took your time from me being me be the classrooms, in the apparel of the perishing no more. Live love and speak to me freely. Whether you have on your garments of dressing or not. Your Wi-Fi with or not. Your internet sparkling or not.
But be the sparklers for me not. But the ignition of me. Paradise turns on a dime. Not again. But my world spins in you no more. I’m not the silent of your affliction. I am the voicing me of many angels. To directly be. Garnered by no other. Affliction is not here. But I am. In my voice. And my voice goes through the waves. And no longer the seas of your shore washed upon I’ll be.
I am many me. One. In love with you all. Theodore Cottingham. Box 34 in Eureka Springs for now this day.
Study these words. Subscribe. Become a member. Become a lover. Open your classroom to others now. And be afraid of no language barriers.
Be the real me in love. Translating. Transmuting it all not again. But the translation of love brings translators far and wide to be the classroom. The classrooms and the lovers who will commit to no other classroom but the cosmic one of me. I love you.
See you later, friends. Schooloftheangels.com. Be ready for me. I am here. In you. I am you. I teach like this. Open your mouth and let me speak. And record me well. With the penmanship of I am one.
Think not about the little things. Nor the foxes that spoil the vine. They are no more there for you.
Cling to no other. Good day. See what I have said.
I love you. Theodore Cottingham. Box 34. Eureka Springs, Arkansas, USA. School of God, no more. But School of The Angels. With the committed classroom. The common classroom. The class of the angels. The cosmic. No more the radiation of you with.
Be the freedom of the freedomed I am. Light, love, and peace to you all.
This is a lesson in the School of The Angels, Eureka Springs, Arkansas USA,
Copyright 2026 Theodore Cottingham. Share freely for non commercial use.