Sense of smell

So my sense of smell came back and so did my nasal hairs and so did my attention to detail and this annoying way I have to proof read everything and I'm asking questions constantly to the point of becoming a pain in the ass because I find it hard to trust the answers I'm given to a level I might admit would be paranoid because well, let's just say the level to which I was being scrutinised by whatever, whoever it was, was so deep, I could say that it was someone outside of me, a person, persons unknown that was the way it ended, that it was designed to sound to me as though it was anyone, including my family, those around me, so I became distrustful of anyone, medical personnel, the police, I even sat in the passenger seat and gave directions that meant going down country lanes in case I was going to jump out of a moving Police vehicle because I couldn't understand how they could have found me so easily, as evening approached, locally, there I was, maybe a description, or my behaviour, I'd been wandering the streets for a while, back and forth.

Looking back to that period of a few weeks for whatever it was, I know this will sound weird, crazy, religious fanaticism, whatever you want to call it, I was in touch with a part of me, maybe that is more accurate, but then maybe and from my own introspection at the time i was talking to angels and demons.

I was a lord of time, doctor who, one of the personas I most identify with, for me that character is a shaman, a healer, a medicine man, someone capable of finding a solution where others cannot and I wandered the roads, as though the devil herself was behind me, leaving a job behind me, for the safety of the person involved, I left and walked away, feeling as though if I stopped or slowed down, I would be caught, killed, but I never struck out, I never have, whatever the provocation in my own mind, whatever the thought, I've never taken it seriously enough to feel as though I should hurt another, only myself, I headbutted a gate, I felt no pain, ok it smarted a little bit, but i walked it off.  That day as doctor who, I was trying to find a solution to the riddle that is ghosts and spirits, and demons and angels.

I mean, the angels, angelic realms, surely it's boring in heaven, no-one has any sex parts and in hell, they're all squirming all over each other in the dark, I've seen it, in a mushroom experience, literally in the dark, some of them I did that, silent darkness as suggested by T McKenna, I exposed myself to the visions that ensued.

So here I was wandering the lanes of wiltshire, feeling as though I was trying to resolve a dichotomy for the different realms within the universe, the omniverse, whatever it is that is out there, above, below, all of it.

For me there was an obvious lack of bodies for the demon spirits to possess otherwise why would they?

For me there was an obvious glut of planets out there with life, maybe some of it lacked a spirit?

SO I was feeling as though there were realms above and below and planets all around.

It makes no sense now, it came from my book, conversations with goddess.

That I am ashamed to admit alluded to a friendship I thought would go somewhere, and my sense of smell is back, came back so strongly at the time I was going through, because I stopped smoking, I smelt underarm sweat although I barely broke into a real sweat because it was winter still, I was walking a lot on the roads, dressed warmly enough, never eating much, just a little fruit, never taking water so my body became a little gaunt, my face too or so I thought when I looked at it, but then I started overeating afterwards and noticing that I am greedy, like a dog, I felt very low, inhuman even, as though I had stopped breathing, didn't need to.

It's all very confusing looking back and writing about it to get it out, to get it down, because I was down, but never anything other than the feeling that i was being accused of things I cannot refute, because we don't remember everything that went on, however I did see inconsistencies between and within the stories I told myself, about a one night stand, my diary said I slept with this girl, I didn't remember anything happening.

I remember how bad I felt for getting drunk enough to kiss and spend time with her, I never wished to do so ever again, I spent the next several years worrying about having caught something untoward anyway.

I wrote yesterday about being a seer, I predicted winter storms from mid november I believe I was right.

But anyone could do that, and how do I know that what I thought I predicted in my own mind tallies with what I actually said or did?  Well in this case because I did so on my social media profile or in my blog.

So I could look back, but I wish to talk about, write about the bullying I did, or differences between what I thought I knew about the past and inconsistencies between what happened then and what I know now.

I know I posted things willy nilly that may have made inferences that I shouldn't have made, or accusations.

I remembered things that other people did and those that I thought they did and those I saw or heard about.

I said that I thought something big would happen this spring that would affect the world as a whole.

You might say the Panama papers would fit that description, to my mind they don't fit perfectly.

I was hoping for something that would shake up the world and make the magic obvious.

The magic, the energy, the love that I felt for the world, the connection, the healing.

It's gone, and I don't think I want it back if it's just something I make believe.

If believing in it, makes it possible for me to feel it, in my hands, then so be it.

That's a pretty powerful indictment of reiki and other things and placebo.

It suggests practitioners, and patients, clients make it up for themselves.

But I don't think that is the truth here, so maybe the drugs make it up for me.

Maybe the drugs and coming off them, being on them, coming off them, that's it.

I know I'm repeating myself here, but it's a sorry state of affairs, mixed up with spirituality.

I've seen how this has lead me down certain paths, one day maybe I will know the truth of it all.

In some ways the most profound things that have happened have been the most beautiful in my life.

That's the crux, the cross I have to bear, the ways I will always wonder where the dividing line was.

I know the idea that I did two hours of energy healing for Michael Shumacher sounds like a lie.

Maybe everyone who loves him, sending him their best wishes has kept him alive to this day.

Do we have an effect like that on others?  When we send them our love, or think of them.

Does empathy have a powerful effect, I know sympathy can make people feel worse.

I've understood the difference before and explained it, feeling with someone or for.

Maybe I'm an emotionless robot, a connectionless husk.  A sociopath of sorts.

Maybe that's the wound that is healing, im coming back to myself finally.

Having loaned out this shell to all sorts of ways of numbing it for years.

Bah humbug I even got into the christmas spirit, we use those words a lot in this world.

Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?  A triumph of the human spirit.

As though we believe that the heart is more than the head.

As though we believe there is a spirit inside us in our body.

In my circles we talk of being spirits in a body living our life.

We converse about these matters, that matter is physical but.

We are energy, e=mc2 matter times time squared = energy...

That is what we are, information, experiences, feelings, emotions, lives lived, smiles given, hugs, laughter.

Does it matter that my life revolved around expressing myself in such ways and that I have noticed that I don't thank people, then when I do it feels forced, as though it's an act, it makes me want to be normal.

It makes me wonder how much of my life was a story I was telling myself that wasn't true, a false projection onto the world around me that was allowing me to see myself as someone I was not, or is this just temporary?  Is this just a clear vision of the truth at the moment, as it is now, for me now.

A way for me to see what I could be, what I was, how I need to change, to see the shadow inside, shine a light, move towards some kind of enlightenment within this experience, is it more than meets the eye?

Because I was living in such a way that my eyes were not the big goggly things on my face, in my head.

They were the eyes inside my head, the eyes inside my heart that thought I felt something I did not.

I see the lies I've told myself and all I can do is live in this truth, live in this world from now on.

See the ways that I don't look after myself and do something about them for others sakes.

But that's the crux again, my cross to bear, shouldn't I do the right thing by me for me?