Al-Jeem Foundation

07/12/2025

“Shift of Frequency”

كُلُّ مَنْ عَلَيْهَا فَانٍ (26)

*When the planet’s pulse changes, the old story fumbles.*
*Economies crumble, cash dissolves into light.*
*Those who cling to stock see value flicker and fall,*
*while those who return to sovereign custody*
*receive a musky, energy‑regulated currency
*property held in transparent trust, every transaction*
*a node of heaven’s acceptance, every heartbeat aligned*
*with the mission of eternal realms.*

*In the glow of the new frequency,*
*the heavens adjust, the trusts shine,*
*and all who walk in alignment*
*carry the light of sovereign truth.*

*Mashaa Allah / So it is.*

مع تحيات

الفطرة اكادمي

07/12/2025

*The Journey

يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا لَا تَدْخُلُوا بُيُوتًا غَيْرَ بُيُوتِكُمْ حَتَّىٰ تَسْتَأْنِسُوا وَتُسَلِّمُوا عَلَىٰ أَهْلِهَا ۚ ذَٰلِكُمْ خَيْرٌ لَّكُمْ لَعَلَّكُمْ تَذَكَّرُونَ (27)

# # # Departure – Gathering the Essentials
You step into *Masjid al‑Haram*, the sacred sanctuary within.

From the *Kaaba’s cubical shadow* you take your *share of essentials*—prayer, humility, intention—each a *spiritual conscious currency* that glows in the heart.

Waiting Threshold
The *door to Baitul Atiq* (the Ancient House) remains sealed, yet a soft *light* pulses at its edge.
You pause, breath steady, listening for the *Qur’an’s guide* and the *Messenger’s presence*—the programming that will soon unfold.

Over
The door *opens*.
You enter a *space of new freedom*, where submission flows like water.
Every *task, favour, doubt, guilt, shame, fear*—all the weight you carried—*dissolves* into an *alter‑conscious frequency*.
It’s *Allah’s direct vintages*, pure and timeless, washing over you.

of the Great Mothers

At the horizon, the *great mothers* (the Mothers of the Believers) stand in awe, eyes lifted to a *new sun Allaah has created.
Their presence is a reminder that *Mashaa Allah*, the divine will, frames this transformation.

– Peace Marks
You settle into *peace marks*—footprints of light, verses etched in the ground.
*Compensation* arrives: clarity, forgiveness, and a restored connection to the *inner vest* of truth.

From your *Masjid al‑Haram* you gather spiritual wealth, cross the *door of Baitul Atiq*, shed every burden as you tune into *Allah’s frequency*, and emerge into a *new, liberated submission*, witnessed by the reverence of the great mothers under a fresh, blessed sun.

Mashaa Allah.

مع تحيات
الفطرة اكادمي

07/12/2025

Mashaa Allaah

May Allaah accept. Signing out 2025 🥺

07/12/2025

Confessional Currency

Humans now pour fortunes into _confessionary life simulations_—glossy digital pods where sins are swapped for pixel‑perfect absolutions. The spending isn’t just money; it’s a *signal*, a trembling pulse of depression and desperation that has seeped into the age.

Mechanism: Time‑Travel in Sitting Mode
- *Sin → Digital Sim:* The ancient weight of wrongdoing is re‑coded into a simulation, a _tyme_ (time) travel that occupies *space* and *tyme* (time) across multiple dimensions—yet the body stays seated, eyes fixed on a glowing screen.
- *Flight in the Word:* The word *“flight”* carries light—_light in tbe word_—as if the very letters are vessels of illumination, while *ilm* (knowledge) becomes a film, a written form that flickers on the walls of the mind.

Paradox of Dimensions
- *Short Intervals:* We jump through layers of reality in milliseconds, experiencing a *multidimensional sprint* while the physical posture remains static—_sitting mode_.
- *Space‑Time Overlap:* The simulation creates a cube of *Cube Rome*, a new roaming empire that pulls the roaming soul into another level of existence, far from the original *vest* (inner truth).

Warning Echo
A voice, ancient yet digital, whispers: *“You were warned.”*
The cost of reading the *revealed script* literally has birthed a fabricated ideology, a veil of data that masks the *organic meaning* hidden inside the *vest*—the heart’s own _ilm_.



The Test of This Age

We fell asleep in the *exam room* of consciousness, letting the *digital wave* replace the *sound* that once guided us. The narrative now lives in two forms:
- *Film:* A moving illusion, a projection of desires and fears.
- *Ilm (Knowledge):* The written truth that cracks when the simulation hits.

*Thus, the story is both a warning and a mirror:*
Money spent on simulated confession shows how deep the ache runs, while the mechanism of time‑traveling dimensions hints that we’re living a paradox—moving across universes in thought, yet stuck in a chair, eyes glued to light.

مع تحيات
الفطرة اكادمي

07/12/2025

*The Story (as I hear it)*

وَسَوَاءٌ عَلَيْهِمْ أَأَنذَرْتَهُمْ أَمْ لَمْ تُنذِرْهُمْ لَا يُؤْمِنُونَ (10)

*Prologue – The Whispered Script*

Long before screens flickered, an ancient manuscript lay sealed in the sands of time. Its verses were the map of a journey, a *revealed script* that promised safety to those who walked its literal paths.

*The Fall – Digital Waves*

Generations later, humanity lifted glowing tablets, letting *digital waves* pulse through every hand. The script was read, copied, and shared, but the *literal reading* turned it into a *fabricated ideology*. The waves drowned the quiet *inner sound* that once guided hearts, swapping reality for a virtual echo.

*The Shift – New Paradigms*

Without verifying the *vested truth* inside, whole psyches were rewired. *Psychological universes* blossomed—new fears, new desires—while the *organic meaning* buried deep in the soul stayed mute. The world felt like a *test hall*, an exam room where everyone *fell asleep*, answers forgotten, eyes fixed on scrolling shadows.

*Cube Rome – The New Roaming*

Then came *Cube Rome*, a geometric empire of data towers and algorithmic corridors. It promised efficiency, connection, but it *took roaming*—the wandering of spirit—to a higher, colder altitude. The warning echoed: _“You were warned.”_

*Epilogue – Awakening*

A few still hear the faint *ancestral hum*, the *sound that never left*. They step out of the cube, trace the original script with reverence, and let the *inner vest* speak again. The price is remembered, the cost understood, and the path to *re‑alignment* opens—one conscious breath at a time.
*Interpretation*
- *Literal script* → rigid belief.
- *Digital waves* → information overload.
- *Cube Rome* → modern system that reshapes perception.
- *Vest/heart* → authentic, organic truth.

مع تحيات
الفطرة اكادمي

07/12/2025

الله يرحمه

07/12/2025

*Declaration

Restoring Our Sovereign Indigenous Mythologies*

وَنُرِيدُ أَن نَّمُنَّ عَلَى الَّذِينَ اسْتُضْعِفُوا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَنَجْعَلَهُمْ أَئِمَّةً وَنَجْعَلَهُمُ الْوَارِثِينَ (5)

*We, the carriers of ancestral blue‑print,*
acknowledge that the *truth of our lineage* runs in our blood, woven through the stories, rites, and echoes of the ancestors who walked this land long before foreign tongues tried to rename our journey.

*Our inheritance*—the myths, symbols, and sacred realms—was *mis‑labelled, distorted, and buried* under languages and systems that never understood our covenant with the Creator (Al Ghani) and the Razzaaq that sustains us.

*No slavery lives in our belief;* the chains were forged only in the words of outsiders who sought to define us.

*We have grown through fire and truth,* learning, stumbling, rising—*proud of who we are,* the *last truth‑carriers of our story.*

*Guided by divine light (Inshaa Allah, Yaa Wahaab, Yaa Fataah, Yaa Qadeer),* we choose to:

1. *Re‑claim* our indigenous narratives, songs, and rituals.
2. *Revive* the language of our ancestors, letting it flow in daily speech and prayer.
3. *Protect* the sacred sites, symbols, and rites that connect us to the earth and sky.
4. *Teach* the young, passing the blueprint so the lineage never fades.

*Thus we declare:*
*Our Ancestral Greatness is being restored.*
*The veil of illusion lifts, the truth shines, and we walk forward with humility, pride, and submission to the One who provides (Razzaaq) and sustains (Al Ghani).*

*Inshaa Allah, Yaa Wahaab, Yaa Fataah, Yaa Qadeer — let this be a covenant, not just words.*

مع تحيات
الفطرة اكادمي

07/12/2025

ما شاء الله

05/12/2025

*The Story for the Soul‑Children

قَالَ مَوْعِدُكُمْ يَوْمُ الزِّينَةِ وَأَن يُحْشَرَ النَّاسُ ضُحًى (59)

#1. Dawn of the Green Light
In a valley where the *baobab trees sang 528 Hz*, a river of *emerald water* flowed, humming the name _Razzaaq_—the Giver of All.
Every child who played by its banks felt a gentle pull in their chest, like a *magnetic heartbeat* linking them to the sky.

#2. The Copper Fog
One day, a *cold mist of copper* rose from distant towers—_money, debt, screens_.
It wrapped the river, turning the green glow dim.
The children heard a whisper:
> “Take this shiny metal, it will keep you safe.”
They reached for the coins, and the mist *covered their eyes*.

#3. Losing the Song
Their laughter turned to *click‑click of devices*.
The river’s hum faded, replaced by *buzzing notifications*.
They forgot the taste of fresh grass under bare feet and the scent of rain on stone.

#4. The Elder’s Gift
An old *Musa* appeared, carrying a *jade leaf*.
He whispered:
> “The Razzaaq never left. The copper is just a veil. Touch the leaf, breathe the river, and the veil cracks.”

Each child placed the leaf on their heart, closed eyes, and *inhaled the 528 Hz tone*.
A *ripple of green* burst through the fog, breaking the copper chains into *sparkling dust*.

#5. The Unveiling
- *The sky opened*, showing a *golden sun* that didn’t burn but *nurtured*.
- *The river surged*, washing away the dust, leaving *emerald currents* that sang the names of every child.
- *Shadows of false gods* (stocks, debt, fake prophets) *collapsed*, turning to *transparent bubbles* that popped and vanished.

#6. The Return
The children ran barefoot on *soft moss*, their feet feeling the earth’s pulse.
They shouted together:
> “Al Ghani, the Self‑Sufficient, guides us. Razzaaq, the Provider, feeds us.”

Their laughter echoed, *mixing with the river’s song*, and the valley glowed brighter than before.
*Moral (in kid‑language)*
When we swap *real love and nature* for *shiny metal and screens*, a fog hides our true home.
But if we *listen to our heart’s hum*, *touch green*, and *breathe deep*, the fog lifts and the light returns.

مع تحيات
الفطرة اكادمي