Getting to the truth of who you are

Strange that as usual, although I am loathed to refer to the last few months as usual, I reverted or found solace at least in watching films, some of which I have to say are quite violent in nature and theme, the Bond films that have been made recently, the Bourne films, I even had myself down as a secret agent myself in many ways, but publicly, as i've been open about the healing that I thought I was doing, and felt I was.

So I'm hurting a little from the work I'm doing but ya know what?  The constant physical exertion seems good, the lack of any time to think, just work like stink seems to help, keeping a routine albeit a very late night and very early morning one, whatever, it's earning some money, makes me feel good to being paying my way and even things like writing a certain number of lines, or not using commas, other forms of, whatever it is you call the things that come at the end of lines, or give pause, constipation, separation, pronunciation, I had it then, punctuation, you see, my brain has been quite frazzled, certain things weren't working too well, short term memory, learning new things, takes quite a few times, focus, listening to what someone is saying and not becoming distracted by the surroundings, other soundings, the lack of rhyming here, just writing words is good.

The fact that I'm not so hung up on certain numbers, let's say the amount of times I use the salt cellar in my porridge, eating what I like, feeling as though I have a new lease on life, as though I'm connected to more of who I was in the past, as though memories are opened up to areas I had blotted out, school days, songs of that era, looking back isn't such a bad thing, even though I didn't really like that period so much.

Then I think hey I'll watch some comedies to cheer myself up, I don't have to watch things that I think will inform my situation, always on the internet looking for spiritual information, films, clips, people, articles that will somehow give me some solace, or tell me what's going on, there's a lot of things I've given up, like football, I used to care more about that stuff, maybe only to fit in mind you, I don't miss it, but I did used to enjoy watching it, so I know I became obsessed with spiritual matters because I felt something was going on in the world that I wanted to know about, I felt lead to try to learn the truth of the matter at hand.

I felt as though that was the point of life, but maybe it's just living it, having relationships with the people in it, taking more interest in how they are, if there's anything you can do for them, like I used to, I've been single my whole adult life, pretty much so I always had a lot of time to think of nice things to do for others, friends, whoever, family members, make them a cd of music, do them a favour, fix something with their computer, whatever it was that was who I was, because I guess deep down I knew I wasn't so great at relationships themselves, and today I felt, I had all these thoughts in my head, it's a nervousness, a feeling of lacking any control, feels like a control freakishness, I'm sat in the car, where are you?  Did you hear the horn?  Are you coming?  Inside I'm feeling anxious, is that the right word?  Was all this there but masked by smoking weed?

It's a bit like being born, feeling naked, fresh, unprotected by my lack of caring about such things, not thinking, looking back on conversations I had with someone online, seeing how confident I was, even though they were coming out with some really quite unnerving things, I just seemed to bat them back, give them a positive perspective, try to say something to give them hope, tried to do the right thing, tried to be someone who could give them some words of encouragement, and again just recently I saw this blog as somehow being written by me, for me, as though I would need it all, should reread it all, or something like that.

There is a fear, it's grown weaker and less present, awaking in the morning it came back, thinking about it now is like running a program on a computer, so I know that's why a lot of people end up in therapy or so I think, because they are constantly reliving things, so constantly keeping them current and in that way it becomes a recurrent nightmare, so I hope that isn't the case, I hope these are loops that are becoming less frequent, less self referential, I miss the magical feeling of sensing someones energy but I see that I may have persuaded myself quite easily, taken what others said, out of context maybe.

So without naming any names, or even hinting, let's say the early days when I was dancing and offering massage as a consequence of seeing those who worked hard at parties, at events, who never seemed to have much fun, I would mention it and try to raise a smile, make sure they got a chance to let loose once in a while, the rhymes still occur to me occasionally, so let's go with them, but then I did a massage for a make up artist who did, quite naturally, a very long makeup job on me because I gave her a big donation for her work.

I wanted to sit there, for a while and chill out, when I came round from my reverie, there all over my head, but not my mouth incase I might end up kissing someone I said and over my chest was a huge beautiful psychedelic tree, for me, to my mind, the world tree, and what I wanted to write about is coming back to me, in the past I would write something and come full circle, even talking if you gave me enough time I would finally, even if I lost my train of thought, come back to it, come back to what I meant to say.  The world tree.

There on my chest was this beautiful tree, and when I was ill, or experiencing spirituality, feeling it, being it, you decide, because I can't anymore, I experienced the most creative period of my life, artistically.  I'm not a good drawer or painter, never have been, I can copy things, I even did a christmas present that was considered  quite nice and was framed, but I had to be honest, it didn't take that long, I ruined the thought that counts in that case I'm sure, but that's another story, I gave up drawing when I took up smoking I feel.

Lots of who I was were given up or put to one side forever because in the adult world you have to work.

I have been striving to get back to a way of living where I would have free time to make things again.

But that period of creativity, I mean for real, some would say it was hellish the picture I painted, because well it was, it stands there as a testament, and the word comes out quite naturally, like hymns from primary school or religious songs have been coming to mind from time to time, give me oil in my lamp, keep me praising.

There is this work of art, I painted, with my fingers, expressively, to me it looks like the base, the trunk, the area around and the foliage and cannopy of a tree, a great tree, the shamanic world view, of a great world tree, the norse mythology?  The lower world, looks like this, a place to learn lessons, the middle realm, where we ought to reside, the upper realm that of spirit?  That of ethereal, angelic, that of those above?

You see there are such parallels to be found amongst the different spiritual traditions even Bhuddism which does not purport to be a religion, apparently includes the idea of a hell that is already frozen over.

AS recently as a few months ago, and I see that it was not real, but to my mind something, someone was coming after someone close to me, this was real to me, so I'm proud of the fact that I stood in the way.

I faced my fears in so many ways, as though there are fears in life that need to be faced, I did so, I find them worrying real and difficult to face now, because I haven't been shown how to, or had to, been sheltered from them, don't blame anyone, I have to and realise how stupid it is to judge anyone else, those judgements make me feel stupid immediately, they are just doing their best, in that way I find myself with little to say.

Little because otherwise most of my commentary would be on others, the guy at work with the massive forehead, I didn't notice it because he usually wears a hat, I find myself like a child, staring at the disabled, the strange looking, the things that stand out, saying things that could get me killed, no, injured badly.  Seeing a guy, asking are you from north africa?  Marroco?  I'm from Egypt he says, that was silly of me, of course I'm in no danger but it comes across as judgemental to racially profile someone like this so I know how naive I am and have even been accused of it as though that is something I should be ashamed of or something.

I find the emotions of others very harsh, or maybe i'm being oversensitive, when lately all I feel is as though I am insensitive, care only about my own situation, or as though I'm going through the motions, doing what I think others would do, even though I'm acting, trying to explain this is hard, it's like feeling like a fraud, at life, as though I've suddenly realised how little I feel for those around me, but I get emotional, I've faced adrenaline in such a way that it hollowed me out, I felt like my heart might stop from the physical things I was put through when I went on my wanders around the local environment, and knowing what I put people through makes me scared enough to never wish to put them through that again and that gives me enough strength to make sure i never do anything to perturb my conciousness again if that's what I did.

But then I know that it's hard for me not to try to find, seek out truth, healing, for myself, and I see that it was that that I was feeling as though I was giving others, when I did that first massage, in public, but not showoffingly, just hey let me give you a shoulder massage as you've been working hard to give others pleasure, now you ought to get some relief, I worked, and felt as though I ought to do these movements, I had seen, so I can't say I made them up, but I thought they came out of me, because I was acting instinctively, I was sweeping down the body, and away, now I can see that maybe I was just aping what I had seen on something on t.v. the work of a healer, a shaman maybe, you see I doubt everything, energy, the things I've felt in my hands, the ways I worked for others, thought I was sending them healing, back to square one again, but that person said, you've just cleared my aura, after I had finished, so confirmation bias, I don't, couldn't explain it to you, but my subconcious knows what I mean by that, I took things people said that seemed to confirm that what I was doing was working for them was evidence that the healing I was doing was working and I ran with that and it all became proof in my mind that I was a healer, could send energy, could remotely sense someones energy field, whatever you wish to call it, their energy body, their life-force, the root of all this not esoteric, but mystical, magical, loving healing ways of being in the world.

For me, whether I did it in the right way, whatever happened recently I felt was both a call to arms, but not violence in any way, except in self defence of my family, to ensure they came to no harm, but i saw my own cowardice, my failure to act, reminding me of the time I saw someone run over and was frozen to the spot, the time I was first aider for the football team.  Then there are the occasions where I have responded with real confidence, I guess they were later in life, so maybe that makes sense, without so much fear, I trained for such situations, tried to learn how to cope, but i find myself scared of the future, scared to seek out prospects for living my own life, somewhere else, now do not have any idea why I would want to move away, what I would do there, certainly not a healer, not confident to meet people in a private setting to provide massage, because I refuse to train formally, I can't face the paperwork, the training, that removes to my mind the instinctive within me that seemed to know what to do for others, when it came out of me.

Consistency that's what I'm getting at, maybe it's a fallacy, but I know the ways that I must wait and see.

For I have been through a lot, maybe one day, should I wait longer, forever, be a burden or am I a help here?  I've grown closer in terms of opening up more, and asking more questions but really I feel as though I'm asking these of myself for the first time literally, what do I want from life, how will I cope when I'm on my own, I look back at the emails and relationships I had albeit electronically, but then back in the day I phoned folks, or they phoned me, I've become so isolated because they don't know how to deal with me, or because I don't make the effort to keep in touch, and they don't because I let them atrophy, those friends.

They way I've acted since the time when I chose to see 11:11 as something to be looked into and other signs that I thought suggested the end of days, the start of the revealing of the truth, I've written before about the dictionary definition of the word armageddon and also the other one beginning with A that means

An apocalypse (Ancient Greek: ἀποκάλυψις apokálypsis, from ἀπό and καλύπτω meaning "uncovering"), translated literally from Greek, is a disclosure of knowledge, i.e., a lifting of the veil or revelation.

I read revelation recently, because I had tried a few times, drawn to these sorts of writings and who has time to read the whole of the bhagavad gita and the rest of the vedic writings really?  Not me, I've flicked through, someone sent me a .pdf adobe file of some book about magic, esoteric something or other, crowley, i wrote about him because I had him on my boot as a tiny lepracaun figure to be shooed away, stomped on, it's not funny I'm sure, given the sorts of things he was said to have done, or maybe he's been demonised in order to scare people  off something that would help the normal folk become more than they are, the true human being, whatever it is that the egyptians were doing, the ruling class under the guidance of the priests.

Immortality, the passage to the afterlife with your dogs and chariots, and with your brains and guts in jars.

You see this whole place is a giant pickle, more like a swiss cheese plowmans if you ask me now, I can see the funny side, and hope I offer no disrespect, because I feel as though there's little I can do but hand on in there, knowing I have little desire to answer these great questions any more, except to try to have enough respect to treat myself body and mind, who knows about soul and spirit, so as to be in good health mentally.

At the same time, I'm dropping the superstitious nonsense as much as possible, wondering whether or not once I've paid the debts that I see from the times when I wasn't working and those I know I owe those close, once I've got myself some kinda headway into saving, or at least cleared those debts, just fuck off to Magaluf or one of the other alcohol soaked pleasure resorts and really get debauched because I've saved myself for a love I cannot see, given the lengths I've gone to not to get anywhere near anything romantically.

I've literally faced years of thinking one thing, and not doing anything about it except that, and finding it for nought, romantic fantasies that were clearly never going to be anything but that, communication not withstanding, because i'm too fucking wordy here, and don't speak up in private or in public, face to face.

I don't wish to either, I really don't, I don't wish to enter into any kind of relationship with anyone, and yet while I was doing healing I also flip flopped between work ethics like now, and then going abroad to dance.

It's a wonder anyone has even given me a chance to come back from this latest episode, and it's not funny.

So I'm going to go to bed, now that I'm nearing the time when I get home from my shifts at the parcel factory.  Ok it's a warehouse where things come in on lorries and then go out again, grounding me in the insanity that is the planet we live on, where beauty and inanity reside side by side, and surgical gloves.

They are needed and there's lots of them going back and forth, and toilet roles, and car and tractor tyres, and all sorts of things made out of wood, and plants and trees, and heavy things with fragile written on them.

It's a strange world, where I have to leave my bank card at home otherwise I might go to tescos open twenty four hours and buy alcohol and chocolate, or the salt and vinegar peanuts and cheesecake I did last week.

I'm managing not to completely fall into old habits, trying to remembering the other folks I owe who helped me out in the meantime, the average of high times and low times and here I am hoping to be an average joe.

Keep the old bank balance in the black, don't go out wearing my shamanic, tantric uniform of black trousers, red tshirt, as it became over time, because they were my work trousers, and they were a gift and then there are all the strange things that were happening around me, that I took or made into the strangeness that made me question those in my sphere whose lives i have no influence on and no interest in usually, i see it, i see how uninterested I am in the lives of those who just want to be heard, like I do, rabbiting on but not listening when it's their turn to speak, I see my own self interest, I see it clearly, it doesn't feel nice to see that, lonely.

To know you don't care about others, their lives, just realising how bereft you are, seeing the shadow so clearly, and wishing to come into the centre, the middle way, please, finally, read the red book, liber novus, doesn't that mean new book or is that my poor understanding of latin, c.j.jung's masterpiece?  I don't find the time because I'm trying not to go down those roads, but then I read somewhere or get drawn back my my inability to be interested in anything but the answer to the riddle that is this place, the mysteries, illusions.

Are all seers crazy, do they tread a fine line, are they that much more sensitive, more euro fighter like?

I.E.  Very unstable in some ways, so much so that they can be flicked from one side to the other easily?

In other words, as much as the general populace do their best to be normal and ignore the questions...

Am I just prone, have become so, am trying not to be, to asking them?  To being this fluid and impressionable and will it indeed go on until I enter the tunnel from which a light is said to come?

Because at that point as some in other cultures so, and they know the several stages there are to death, to the procedures required to make the necessary transition from life to whatever happens next, maybe forewarned is forearmed or maybe I'm wasting my only chance at experiencing doing cool shit?

SO I'm torn between eating every item on the menu at the cafe I discovered with a friend and eating really healthily and taking up meditation, I'm torn between getting fucked by some slapper and preserving my sexual energy within me so that it rises up my spine to the higher chakras, there are challenges to that path and I know that keeping good habits makes those less challenging, because you have to eat right, live right, be disciplined, in order not to kundalini yourself into a mental home, the internet don't get me started.

It's like the middle ages or a market somewhere in a pre celtic, pre roman world where all questions could be answered by gutting an animal, asking your question as the entrails told their tails who knows the truth?

I don't but I'm relieved if it's any consolation that my sun gazing is over and my full moons now go unnoticed and i can see why so many fall by the wayside if there is such a narrow path between the eye of the needle and the camels ass as it passes through I hope this isn't coming out as nastily as it might sound to all of you.

It feels like a friend, and there they came about again, and I realised there are things I've done that I don't remember so well, ok I'm getting on, but when folks saying crazy things come around when I'm feeling pretty crazy myself and realising what I've been through, it doesn't help to feel like the whole world is going crazy at the same time, unless that's good evidence that we're all connected and then I hope that's a good thing.

Thank goodness is the closest I come to saying the word, beginning with g that folks exclaim with when they're coming close to feeling as though they wish to describe something incredible in their lives...

Thanks goodness for family

I miss the old days

Said this would be my last go around this mortal coil, felt as though it would be, but maybe that's just me.

Now I revel in replaying the walks I've made across the continent, by looking at the imagery I took.

Bucket List

So immediately i managed to go right back to what I would have done in the past.

Took my bank balance to the limit of what i thought i needed and now it's insured.

My insurance company have decided to nearly triple my premiums will it not end?

So I have to knuckle under, buckle under the strain of the stress of working again.

I went to work with a bad foot, ankle, but managed to fight my mind and the pain.

I stuck out the shift and found the pain was gone again maybe that  was the same.

The thing I learnt on vipassana that pain is an impermanent sensation,  live with it.

I'm resting it up and finding that this way I will have to really find resources within.

I have to be strong enough to fight this little imp inside me that says do what you will, eat your fill, eat sugar, drink coffee when you don't normally, don't just drink water and get well, don't just eat vegetables like you were, I was eating so well that the weight just dropped off me, making my own chocolate healthily and yes I was finally loving me, I even spent all my money on others for christmas even though I don't revel in this new consumerist paradigm of spending money on things to celebrate the festival of the birth and then life of a man that we're not even sure existed, not that I don't respect the religion, I don't blaspheme, I don't swear about it.  I tend to leave religions where they are as some kind of thing that others take very seriously and that's up to them, the morals are worthwhile, the commandments make sense, treat others as you would wish to be treated is the heart of it, I was being so charitable, maybe this period shows me how I don't wish to be.

Shows me the shankaras?  I forget the spelling but it's the root of all let's say it, evil within us, darkness.

The root of all of our bad habits, the reasons why we don't love ourselves, some would say the subconcious programming within us that makes us fail at new years resolutions, so I swear, I promise, to think of others.

I make a vow, I see the experiences I've had, the things around me that I chose to include in my fastasies like the phone lines suddenly going out of order, or the way that people say things I can prove are not true.

That hurts them but they're getting old, or lying to themselves first, or just plain wrong, so let them be.

I'll just fucking have to make sure I deal with these deepest aspects of myself and keep good habits.

It's easier now that I don't have much of a social life, I can see how withered my life has become.

It's not funny but it gives me a lot of time to face challenges, do chores, tidy up around me.

Do my fair share, treat life as though it was no longer a rehearsal so I want to ride.

I want to ride a horse, I want to do white water rapids, go canoeing one day.

Maybe do a parachute jump, who knows, stop concentrating on thoughts.

Working is helping and this way whatever my situation as long as it's not affecting other negatively at least that way I will know I can deal with the pain I suffer, I can manage not to take it out on others, in the way I talk to them, I see it and it makes me sad, I shouldn't open up to those close about what I've been through.

It hurts them to hear what I experienced so I won't talk to them anymore about it and I know I feel alone.

But hey I'll roll with the punches, and see what this new attitude does to the world I see around me.

Who knows, maybe one day this all will become clear and i'm not clever enough to work it out.

Maybe ours is just to do and die after all not reason why, why are we here I thought I would.

I thought maybe if I kept asking the answers would become clear, they seemed to enter in.

They seemed to come right into my mind, I could actually feel them coming as though.

As though being implanted but then all of this sounds just like madness to the docs.

I know, because I've read about it, so we're going to have to agree to disagree.

If I can assume that I have the best chance of remission and long term recovery by not doing what I was doing, by not getting dragged back into those types of behaviour I was misbehaving at then we'll see.

Once a month if I can get my head down and find the place I can stick at long enough that pays well.

I will make sure I do one of those things that I have mentioned and see how it feels to just live life.

See how long it takes for all the rest of this stuff that I got carried away by fall by the wayside.

See what happens when instead of charging at the bull with your head down into it's head.

You actually start a daily meditation practise, I do so every evening before bedtime.

I will see what happens when I keep on keeping on, don't give up giving up.

It's hard not to see the ways that my writing style has changed but I like the fact that now I can write and let it flow, but also think on it too, I like my dreams, I like my sense of smell but not the fumes of others smoking, it fucking stinks, that's why I like the fresh air of my caravan and the space away to allow others so much peace and quiet from me, they laugh and talk about things and I don't feel like joining in, I'm sorry.

Maybe I will again, maybe there is a way back onto the straight and narrow, bucking up, to fly right once more.  Haven't folks made this journey before so many times, maybe even I have as I used to say, but then i've been messing with my own  perceptions for so long, knowing what I write when I'm high seems so darned profound at the time, feels so right too, but afterwards you have to take a short sentence and lengthen it to explain what you sensed at the time, what you thought you understood, to try to tell others, but then again I've found so few are interested, they're tired from their jobs or don't care, they just want to sleep.

I wonder about this whole are you awakened thing that goes on in spiritual circles, are you a sheep, are you asleep, is there a good side to spirituality is it a trick of the bad one, is there a good one, one goodness?

Or is it all in fact a demi god, a half life, a trick that you can't see through or win because it's rigged?

The creation of something that enjoys watching our suffering but then there are those who love.

I love them, the couples married for years, they had such love, I'm happy for others.

That brings a lump to my throat, then I think of young lovers on a picnic.

I'll never have that, why not, when we met in the summer?

Oh well, looking back was never my strong suit.

So much more of my life has been opened.

So much more to see and remember.

So much more oil in my lamp.

When I never believed.

In a god before.

Faith in me.

Was rare enough...

I know it, have felt it recently.

It starts with a complete lack of it entirely.

That becomes quite quickly a sense of confidence.

And if I'm not careful a lack of care for anyone but me.

So for goodness sake I can only relate this as something I can see.

Knowing I have to work so hard to change this internal situation and quickly.

But also try to take it one day at a time and stop acting and reacting so harshly and rashly.

Such a difficult thing for someone who panics and struggles not to push everyone away I'm sorry.

Trying to make sure none of this ever sounds like goodbye, because I said that I remember I was going.

I was feeling as though I should say the words, goodbye, and kiss, my voice, in my head said kiss your mam goodbye, there was a lot of welshness coming out of me, I even thought I had an accent but that's just me.

Apparently...

What is life for?

Is it to experience things?

To work through lessons?

To learn from our mistakes?

But how if we don't remember?

Have we lived before and was it here?

Will we live again and is that to be transcended?

Aren't we supposed to see through the illusion that is separation?

Can the normal person off the street afford the time to ask these questions?

Do they even care?  The regular guy or girl who just wants to live and be happy?

Who doesn't even have these thoughts occur to them when they're just living life...

What is the dichotomy between the two ideals that I have seen, the gaian mind and
the idea that this is an illusion to be transcended so that we never have to come again?

Is the world a living being, an energy, have a spirit of its own, a spirit of nature, of the rock?

The new agers would have you believe that there is a life to everything and that we should revel in our place here, respect the earth and that is a no brainer, surely respect the place that gave you life and will not be able to in the future because it's being ravaged by everyone whether they know it or not or care, it is so...

The environment is under threat and has been ever since our rubbish went from being sea shells on a midden mound to the plastic refuse that breaks up into micro particles like the ones being added to clean our teeth.

Toothpaste and other products have tiny bits of the deceased creatures of the past in the form of crude oil, literally the crude and desecrated remains of dead things, as a black sludge raised from the sea bed and undersoil, then turned into fuel for our vehicles and other products like plastics that can be recycled.

I've worked there at a recycling plant for plastics, the only recycling that is going on makes money for someone, unless it's true recycling like being buried in order to feed worms, to rot as I would have my body do when I die, in one of the cardboard coffins, or willow ones like those I have been carrying and respecting as much as I can, from lorry to conveyor belt to lorry again off to go to someone to be put inside at death.

Death has been a very present facet of my life recently, older people tend to think on it more, I do, have done, who would go to my funeral I have wondered, how many, and would they be there out of respect, or would it be a duty they are carrying out, the fear of facing the future, the death of those I know and love, and then I come back to the very thing of life, love, do I love?  Have I ever loved anyone?  This shell seems to have loved in the past, or at least empathised, and cared for, yearned to love I have it on my fucking back.

I have yearned to love though I have not loved, nondum amabam et amare amabam is about unconditional love, the rest of it I had added because I wanted to finish the story down my spine, tatooed as though these things become, take on a life of their own, become embued within us, as above so below, above all I have writ in letters that burnt and hurt recently as they are wont to do occasionally, "I sought what I might love in love with loving"...  SO what is to be done with this life apart from trying to avoid debt and find some joy?

For I struggle to see much joy in merely carrying on as before, and these spiritual questions loom  large and have done so because whether the experiences I have had were of my own making, in other words the creations of my own mind, my own subconcious processes, turned terrible but great, mesmerising in their own way, totally believable at the time but laughable now in many ways, I can see how stupid, how crazy, I can see what a mistake it was at that time to believe what was going on in my own mind, I can see the folly.

I can see that lying in my bed under the covers afraid of spirits coming to stab me with poisoned daggers whether they were demons come to torture me or angels come to warn me is completely daft and insane.

BUT...  There are the times that I have done things and others confirmed them so are they crazy too?

Can I find any evidence of things that happened to me that happened to others at the same time?

I know that a friend of mine and I saw ufos and I'm convinced we both saw the same thing.

Am I to go back to everyone I've ever met and ever known and question them?

All I wish for and am recovering in myself is the sense  that I can see the truth of how weird what I was doing seems, I can see it, I can see how obsessed with numerology, doing things in twos threes fours and fives, all at sixes sevens and eights, seeing significance in those numbers and then why not?  It's a pickle it sure is...

Glad though to be doing normal things, drinking some cider, eating some shit food, then wondering is there any point in doing good to myself, treating myself right, shouldn't I just make the most of this life?  Eat what I want and enjoy it given how fraught with danger and mishap life is?  I see how fragile and wonder is it all a joke?  Were all drug experiences mere illusions in themselves, as A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada said they were but I decided not to believe him or was caught up in my desire to find my own way through?

He said that they were all hallucinations and I find my mind coming back to itself by playing scrabble, over time all sorts of rational things that were fading because I was so focussed on the creative side of the brain, the non rational expression of life was my goal, to leave rationales behind, because I saw science as a lie.

I saw realism as the goal of those who would deny there is any magic in the world and my world was so much more for all the times I thought I was doing the bidding, and saying it like that makes it sound bad, but I assumed because of the ride I was on that I was doing good, in the grand scheme of things, by what I said, what I did, how I danced, how I pranced around Stonehenge, but I too see the addiction to a drug or two.

I see the ways in which I allowed my addictions to drive my behaviour, still I see it now today, weakness, because I drank a bit and then that led to certain wants that I felt as a craving for one thing lead to another.

SO this human nature is a bastard, and that was what I kept coming back to in my deepest spiritual visions, that we are all the product of rape, a dragon having sex with a feminine archetype, an egg and a serpent, the kundalini in our spines, rising up as a spiritual energy when we do yoga and eat properly, it all got demonised by whatever was going on with me, people around me too, I wondered are they up to something, doing things in my environment to send me doolally, now I see that it was much more likely me, that was doing those things but unaware as we so often are of everything going on around us, not all of the time can we see.

This cosmic womb, the void from which we sprang, this universe of possibilities that seems like a hell to me.

Seems like a place for everyone to get precisely what they wish for so be careful and I came to see deep within that my wish was for everyone to be happy, I've said it when everything was going dark around me.

I was at a festival and my trip went bad, I was told within my own mind that I could see the darkness,  I could see everyone as the other side of the coin if I so chose, to see the devil in the detail instead of the god.

I've been there laying on my front waiting for the hammer to fall and maybe I've gone on about this too much.  If there's a god, and it can hear us, it certainly does not, DOES NOT have the power to kill us.

Or at least it chose not to do so when I asked so fervently for that to be the case the last time I was here.

This time, I said hurt me, don't hurt anyone else, kill me, not them, I delved deeper inside myself than ever.

I hope that what I am seeing is the shadow, because it's sick and I hope that means I can choose to change it.  I can choose to go a different way to the ways I went in the past, it's easy when you know how so do it.

Choose a self and be that one, keep on going, changing for the better, for the good of others and wait and see.  Because at some point in the end I will see what the point of this all was when I die and so will we all.

Will there be a great blackness, nothingness, if there is then maybe we will never know.

Will there be a light, at the end of a tunnel, a figure beckoning me to go there towards it.

Some schools of thought say that is a trap, it would be better to go towards disillusionment.

Rather I should say disillusion, complete dissolution, dissolving into nothingness rather than rebirth.

As though the beings waiting for us at death would pretend to be god, jesus, whoever we believe in.

Precisely to take our energy, our information, and send it back here, because that is what drives them.

What feeds them and it's scary to learn that you may have to make a choice that will be elementary.

That choice may take you somewhere you don't like, or that leads to an eternal heaven or hell.

This whole thing is a great question one that has driven many to the brink of where I am.

Thank goodness I know that I have done enough to deserve some punishment.

That is why I was fully expecting every animal that dies so I could live would drag me down to the earth.

Drag me down to hades, to the underworld, but instead in my vision I rose up, to take off, to leave my body, laid as I was in the forest on the soil, with some coniferous branches beneath me, and two large tree branches on either side of me, not a shallow grave as I wrote at the time but similar, a bit fake.

Not a shamanic thing at all, you're supposed to get buried properly or so I am told, I doubt my magic.

I doubt the fact that all others are supposed to be trained by the one who came before them are they not?

I know that an out of body experience, an OOBE as they are known can involve shaking, a friction as the body and the spirit are split, as the spirit rises up out of it, that is what I thought was going on to be true.

And when people look down and see their body they get scared, so I will continue not to smoke.

I will continue to experience my dreams, and train my self to become lucid in them, try to unravage my mind by being healthy as healthy as I can be when sugar has a hold on me and so does chococlate biscuits, and greed and this need to treat my body harshly because I have things on my conscience that make it hard for me to have people treat me kindly, how deeply they run I don't know but they seem somatic and make me panic, because I find my breath has stopped working automatically as it should, my stomach stuck, stopped.

What an adventure though, to feel in the same day as though I would rather be dead and smile and laugh?

TO be able to experience this at all whilst falling through space that is not a void at all, not  a vacuum.

There is stuff out there, dark energy that in my good times I posited was actually the unused imaginatons of the body populace, the body politic, the little guys and girls whose heart and minds have been stolen by their phones and mind numbing spirit crushing game shows, aren't we all living a a deficit world now indebted to it?  By it, by those who I should not blame for our situation they merely profit from it the rich, privileged.

Don't get me started on sex, I haven't because I haven't been in a relationship, and believe that love was more important than mere physical accomplishment, the need that most succumb to for physical succour.

I have loved the hugs though, thankyou for the music and the hugs though people thankyou so much for that. 

flipping flopping what do i call my new car?

So i wrote a blog post called mantra about a mantra I came across or made up who knows?
It was about saying to yourself, all of your selves, I'm sorry I forgive you Thankyou I love you...
Then I find this exact phrase, near enough coming back to me from a spiritual post online and then...

I'm flipping and flopping because I yearn to know more about the spiritual truth of this place here
And yet I'm back in debt to my folks to the tune of a car and my insurance goes up almost triple
So I'm crippled by this trap again, working again at a job that last night 6pm till 2am I'm there
For the first few hours it's a constant mind fuck because my head is saying quit go home...

Because my ankle, Achilles heal, tendon, whatever is killing me but pain is an impermanent sensation
I tell myself this because that is what the Bhudda said through my vipassana teacher S.N. Goenke
There is a reserve, a reservoir of pain in the body, stored there, emotions, feelings, sensations
To be felt that were denied at the time and this period has taken me back to being reborn
Literally as though I need to learn again how to wipe my ass after a bowel movement
And that is what I've been doing, reopening my eyes to the world around me...

Seeing what has changed since I didn't take into account those around me at all, seeing things anew
Trees, leaning to the west, perhaps, well I'm sure they always did do but I didn't notice mind you
Then I'm rhyming again and this was supposed to be the most normal post yet, for a long while
i was just going to write a post about the lads at work, saying spanish to the gran canarian
talking Polish to the Pole, telling the lad from Jamaica or wherever about a short cut
So that he can save himself 15 minutes on his journey time instead of going M32
No come straight into yate and that rhyme was just a coincidence like the one
the other day when a visit to a Dairy in a village called Minchinhampton
lead to finding a parcel for the farm that feeds the cattle grass to
make the organic milk that goes into the cheese and cream
that is sold in the dairy that i visited for the first time
the other day it felt a magical coincidence but
i just work in a parcel factory a warehouse
of sending packages to one place from
another and they're thrown around
like i've seen the baggage guys
do at the airport throwing
our suitcases as though
they were shit on a
shovel to be
hoisted
away
and
then
well
i ought to write about my new car and the reg plate because that was the title of this post afterall the things that normal people get caught up in like the Grand National that I don't give a shit about apart from the horses that die just from taking part but then that is the only reason they are alive at all, to race and I'm reminded of an ice cream place in Bristol that I just read about because I've decided fuck it, bucket list, I'm going to do jobs and not quit them until I've got something else, I'm going to keep my promises to friends, the folk I consider to be so, locals, neighbours, change my habits, until I can be free to do so less so, be naked in the rain ok this time I wore pants and some boots because I had to turn on the switch to recharge my solar lights in my caravan but just briefly did I leave before heading back in to sup cider and think about the ways which I will work like stink to ensure I don't end up in debt to anyone, not my folks, not insurance companies, who decide to hike my premiums to my mind criminally, i need to get out of this loop but what about dentistry, how do off gridders cope with bills, do they barter endlessly?  I love the idea of growing my own stuff and living in a community and basically using the skills you learn to earn, the skills you have to barter for things, not living as a good consumer, a capitalist user of the resources that are killing this planet.

BW03 LWN  Bow Low Now Because the previous ones were JHW to my mind Jon Healer Walker
and the most recent P335 THR Part Time Healer because that is what I was although the people on my online accounts seem to have had strange profiles in that they didn't have many friends, the ones I was sending healing to, and got good feedback from were they real people I have to question everything from now on, but try not to be too cynical but also don't be too naive but then I am, too trusting or too careful that's always been my obstacle, I either think everyone is out to get me or don't care at all about my safety.

My spiritual journey from looking for redemption on the road to Santiago de Compostela and this adventure I am living now where I feel like a catcher in the rye because I have my own internal promises I am making but to the outside world I could be anyone or anything they choose to see from their perspective and I know that in the recent past I thought I was talking to, listening to, my higher self, in my own voice, in my own thoughts I was receiving guidance, at one point I asked are you my guide?  What is your name? White arrow, white feather?  Has all this just been my imagination like my dreams that so often feature real people now and I'm back with a glint in my eye and a certain existential charm and smile again because I feel as though I ought to ditch the spiritual shit and just act as though today is the last day of my life and drink.

Smoke fuck it, although I like the sense of smell coming back, the shower and change because it's saturday thing going on, but then I have no money save for the bits in my bank to make sure I don't go overdrawn and then everyone is in this position aren't they these days save for those with lots of money and even they don't think they have enough, I'm not sure who reads this shit but they're anonymous mostly, because I get a bit weirded out when I learn who has been reading it out but then isn't that the point of all this communication?

That's my issue, I get defensive like someone who shall remain nameless and I feel it, I feel like a bastard for not being more open to help, more open to talking things through, more open to spending time with you.

Can I ditch the spiritual nonsense that is all about a new earth, a new paradigm, a new world, a new place in space and time, something that only those who live right will come to know?  Something that you have to treat yourself right to come to see?  Because you have to yoga every day, eat right, leave the animals to their ghastly plight of being injected and infected by our need to tame them, cage them and make them live so they can die to feed us which isn't right, factory farmed so that less and less are they respected at all, milked and eventually culled for meat, like calves who are male are no use to the dairy industry but Gerald Durrell will take them for his Zoo quite gladly farmers, if they're of no use to you, we'll have them for the carnivores.

I read that in a book I was reading of his in Yate library while I was waiting for three hours between the agency meeting and induction at the warehouse of the Parcel Delivery Firm and the start time so I read a book a bit and entered into a Poetry Reading Competition because I can dare myself to do this shit.

So I entered into it knowing I'm pushing my luck, working nights when I ought to be getting a good nights rest given what I've been through psychologically, but hey, fuck it, I've done it before, come back from the brink of suicide but even this time, although the initials GHT were seen and I unravelled them to mean, Go Hang Tonight, I just didn't have the gumption to do it, all these weeks of this year since whenever it was others saw my behaviour as strange enough to try to get me help, I snapped out of it when help arrived enough to come across as someone just going for walks which is what I thought I was doing at the time.

But, BUT I know I wasn't just doing that, I was taking things going on in my head like love affairs with three women, ok two at the same time, ok two people I've met but have little or no connection with really, both of whom I think are quite happy with who they are with, and one who I assume I was being palmed off onto.

Who is also someone I have met in real life and who gave me something spiritually so significant that well.

It's hard to strip the one from the other, tease apart the truth from the lies I've told myself in my own head.

But I know the distinction between spending all my time on this sort of thing, and the thoughts in my head and not doing chores like work, gardening around the house, washing, hanging washing out, cleaning, dusting, hoovering etc at least normal people get all that done and go out and have fun and do their creative stuff.

I wanna live a more bohemian life, be less fussed about stuff, be more hippy dippy but they frustrated me with their inability to arrive on time, or leave on time, and their houses are a fucking mess, I like that actually.

It's such a lovely privilege to be alive that I know I'm seeing it all from the outside looking in, from the inside looking out at the world of those others I have seen, truly seen but not met in more ways than one, hey you.

That is the way I've worked, from the skin of the rice pudding, I've skimmed the best bits in life only not dived in because well I was rubbish at it, I as too scared, I was imagining how it would all work out or not.

And that held me back from even trying, so in some ways as much as I saw this whole thing, from January let's say but I can trace back several years the episodes I have suffered, endured, enjoyed in many ways.

Cycling to an address in my head, which I checked on google maps to find it was in Bristol so I wrote down directions, so this is my instinct, what I saw as my higher self taking to me, as a person I have loved, as far as I know unconditionally as a sister, only. I cycled to the spot only to find the house wasn't there, no number 23 in this road, although I had been there, before, so psychotically and safely I might add I got there, terrified about the reception I might get, within myself it scares the hell out of me to approach a situation where I might be rejected, I was expecting to be greeted my a friend, a lover, someone to jump into the bath with.

As it turned out, I just thought well, I've faced with gratitude the rain on the way here, cycling with a wet arse, along a path I now know pretty well, the Bristol and Bath cycle path, the stretch before that from home to yate and beyond to connect and journey into Brizzle, the bit after the cycle path that lead me through Stokes Croft, past Lakota Nightclub where I've spent many a good night and morning at a rave or twelve, up the hills onto the downs or somewhere close to the place I knew, that road I cycled to was a place I've been before because I walked from my friends house near Filton, back into town along this road before.

SO my subconcious must have drawn this place out as the one I should go to today, with gratitude in my heart.  I didn't feel anything other than the scare I got from thinking I might be walking into a loved ones arms, maybe something nice might happen like a hug and then a kiss and then who knows?  But facing the terror made me much less scared generally, so maybe that's why I have entered the Poetry Slam at Yate.

Maybe that is why without the thoughts in my head that are mine but I considered to be from a higher place I can continue somehow to go on in this life knowing the shards of the sword that was thrust through my heart and shattered, like the splinters in my mind of the difference between a spiritual truth and madness go on.

That probably doesn't make sense, but it is what I would have written without thinking, it is what I had to write as a thread, as a flow, as a river, as a stream of conciousness goes and grows and shows me truth.

I though you were speaking to me my love, my friend, but you weren't or else we would have been together.

We aren't so that makes it all the more easier for someone who has caused suffering to suffer in this way.

I don't know about other psychotics, were they harmed at birth or just after, or was it something they did?

All I know is that I see the ways in which misunderstanding happen, we don't see what each other mean...

We don't literally telepathically know what each other are saying as much as I think I can read your mind.

I seem to think that I know what you are just about to say and I see that is a misnomer in many ways.

The more I learn the less I understand but I am humbled by the fact that you still love me mother.

Perhaps that is why I find myself alone more and more because it's hard to explain this to someone who think they are right so often, or doesn't see it as clearly as everybody else and they don't feel like showing it to me.

Well I've drunk my ciders now and the internet is calling me even though my spiritual friends suggest at 9pm a very large energetic charge will be flowing through those who choose to tune into it, those who feel more, because they treat themselves more gently, more sensitively they are more sensitive, and I know it, I felt it, I have sent them energy and they felt it too, I have done amazing things in the past but I can only look upon them as wonders of my mind and things that others managed to persuade themselves of too, I have to have a rational explanation for them otherwise my counsellor if I had one, my psychiatrist would surely want me to see my delusions as part of my illness, and I know as recently as a few months ago I had delusions of grandure, in that I thought I was Jon the baptist or at least someone loved by heaven and hated by hell, the denizens of which were hunting me down daily as I walked off into night and light along the roads around this place, feeling the pricks of their daggers, their poisoned tipped spears, and the pricks of fear sent by angels to try to get me to do the right thing, live right, eat right, sleep right is my new mantra, and maybe after a jaunt back into junk food, I will love myself enough to go back to a vegetarian diet, and wild food, well I'm eating nettles, and wild garlic, but my achilles is killing me too much to go picking that or those today so I won't.

My achilles heal if I'm honest though is a lack of self love, either because of the things I've done which let's face it, I see it all around, petty theft, rationalisation of it, the reasons why it's ok or not, to steal, to lie,  to be greedy, to cheat, to murder or have animals murdered in our name and we don't kill them ourselves anymore.

We're not hunter gatherers, we don't honour those we eat, we don't thank our lucky stars for the food we eat.  We don't say grace, in many ways as much as religions seem moot and outdated they had a point.

I am alone and it feels good, maybe that is something I will face again and again and I don't think it is fair to get involved with someone else, romantically given what they would be putting up with when it comes to me.

As I struggle but even less and less to comes to terms with what I've put others through is the key, all I want to do is save up, give them things I ought to have done in the past, birthday cards, pay for them, be good.

We'll see...

mantra

i had this mantra that i thought i had made up it went like this...
i'm sorry i forgive you thankyou i love you, i'm sorry, i forgive you, thankyou, I love you, it was something i said to myself, I'm sorry for all the times i let you down me, I forgive you for all the times I let someone else down, thankyou for still being here, I love you and i am sorry for all the things I've done that I wish I could take back, I forgive myself only in so far as I wonder what was real and what not and I thankyou all those folks who let me into their world for a little while or a lifetime so far and i love you even though i can't feel it
how is it to be such a husk and feel nothing to cry so many tears and yet wonder if you are a narcissist, a psychopath, a user and a loser and still wonder why you've never gotten further than goodbye because you have a yellow streak cannot speak your truth except in times of telling someone about yourself and that's the selfish gene within me that hates this anger i find coming out again and hates myself even more than I can remember doing before but then all i know is that i have to work the rest of my life doing shit jobs because there is so little left inside just what i've been hiding and that's all I have to say about that, I'm sorry I burnt those precious things and that I have so little left but that's a new start beckoning

Two Completely Different Things

there's a chippy in brizzle called oh my cod and there's not a lot you can say these days to exclaim without someone saying oh my god and that is what i've been doing all this time trying to find out what it means to know the truth of all the internal experiences suggesting there's something to the hole i felt inside that some choose to call spirit, goddess, god and any of the other names for faith in a higher power, a lower place to go and it shows in the ways and means i've used to let all the shower of shit i've been through flow out of me and i will forever be wishing i hadn't hurt those close because of my outburts and choices but maybe one day i'll understand someone told me that i would reach nirvana but still be confused and i still am but almost past caring it's just the evidence to the contrary is not entirely persuasive so i carry on wishing for some peace of mind and finding it slowly returning now i've given everything up even striving to find answers all i want is a normal life and maybe that's the key to it all, just live here, as well as you can, maybe some more fucking and fighting would have been a better idea instead of believing whole heartedly in love and being too romantic in my ideals only to find no real love in my life except for my own insistence on ignoring my best intentions and instincts to post something or say something i would like to take back and i wrote that book that a part of me wanted to use to express some thing that i don't agree with about fucking that i would have said in terms of making love but apparently that's the same thing from two different perspective and perhaps that is what this place is after all :) + heart shape

rising up

so windy out and i caught it i saw a leaf that rose and rose
and then i thought to myself i'm the only one i suppose
saw it going up and up i'm the only one who knows
it didn't make a sound just like that tree that fell

demons run where a good man goes to war

i've screamed this out into the dark
to forces unseen and unheard so
i know what this woman means
when she says it's on so run
maybe they were not real
but it felt so at the time
tables are starting to
turn talking bout
a revolution
or we're
done
+

tracy chapman

talkin bout a revolution with that singer

or that other song about redemption

or fuck it new age ascension to a

higher dimension or a mayan

fifth sun or who knows yes

i've been out there and

dared to dream abou'

space brother and

sistas strong and

long and gone

on and on

love is

one

thing

i've not

known so

on i go to see

can i make reparation

for the things the ways that

i havent been loving all along?

can i work like stink and make it right

maybe see others have their chosen sights

yo yo dieting

they said we don't want that ready smile
they said you have done lots of bad
they said cower beneath a duvet
i said i bare my throat for the spiritual dagger
i said i will feel as though there was a snake there
i said i will wonder if it's my adrenals shutting down now
because I've been running on empty and lanes
because I've been out in the night again
because I've been staring at goats
and swearing loads and loads and not
because it took a lot to get me to lose my rag
and it's been a drag i can say that I don't take it easy
I give it hard though when push comes to shove
i was all about the goddess above and love
and then it was all demons and knives
and less about short lived lives
it ran and ran as i starved
and then overate until i was fat
and now i can't stop eating like a rat
feeling like a dog but not a star like sirius
less the wizard i was feeling like before harry
and more like a great big shaggy dog story
back to square one the magic is gone so