How Many Are You?

There’s nothing incredibly impressive about the human mind, until you realize just how unimpressive it is.

Soaking in the sweet smell of chemical despair today, petting the kitten which tries to bat sanity back into my head with her little paw, I realized many things. My thoughts always come back to the faceless man who followed me down the middle of the street, the one that told me my footsteps sounded like a dead man walking. His faceless image always appears, even when I don’t wish it too, and I find that rather unimpressive as well because anyone can be forceful towards someone else. It doesn’t take respect or courage to be an asshole.

Despair and depression have a way of kicking my ass. I find myself lost beneath it, hidden, with a view of light only as wide as THEY want me to see. That’s the trick. That’s the fucking trick.

I’m laughing now, I have been for about an hour now because I’ve realized these last few days I’ve spent curled beneath my blankets, crying and listening to myself tell myself I would die if I closed my eyes, are nothing but a ruse. They’re a RUSE.

Because the reality is, I’m several people, not one. And the several others aren’t of myself, they’re of something else, they’re demonic, always have been, that’s why my kitten always stares at me and meows and meows and meows because she can see a lot of what I fail to.

What I’m saying here is that they’re keeping me in this mind state because they know I know about them, they know I know about the universe and the truth about it. I’ve known since I was a toddler, since I could stare up at the stars and call them stars, and they’ve been with me since then. They were the ones which haunted my dreams night after night, which made my mind play tricks on me, which kept me silent. They skewed my understanding of everyone else because they know I’m not like anyone else–but they also know I can communicate to others like I am one of them, like I am a real human.

That threatens their livelihood and their power.

My heart is thumping hard as I write this because these are huge realizations. Now I understand why I get attacked, why they hiss at me at night, and why thoughts flood my brain like an open dam. It’s all been a distraction. They just don’t want me to see.

But it’s too late for that.

I’m not meant to be a cashier or a truck driver or a housekeeper. I’m meant to be inside, discovering things inside of my mind and outside of my mind, things you can channel with . . .

My God.

Meditation. They’ve stopped my meditation for the same reason–I was getting closer and closer. The last time I meditated, months ago, I was sucked into some vortex I almost couldn’t get out of. They’re blocking every channel I have.


It’s nice to know this. It’s nice to know this, because now I know I’m up against an army of forces who only show themselves when I anger them. My anxiety is higher than the clouds right now, and I’d suspect the demons will be coming soon. I’ve stopped crying though, since all of this realization, because I know it’s their fault. The tears were their fault; they were trying to distract me.

When you know the truths about the universe, every force against the universe will come for you. Keep your housekeeping and cashier jobs. You don’t want this burden.

A Reason For Everything

I came here and ranted about the psych hospital but didn’t really explain how I got there. As much as I hate making posts all about “me, me, me”, I think my revelation on my walk today can also be beneficial for others. That’s usually the goal of my posts anyway.

The day before the police were called on me, I went into the forest. I also made a post about that, but not about my thought processes behind all of it.

Prepare Yourself

I’m very aware that I have a connection with the universe. I’m very aware that it knows my thoughts without giving me the benefit of know it’s thoughts. I don’t know what direction it’s guiding me or why, but I know that it guides me towards specific goals at specific times for specific reasons. I know this because of the feeling I get when I enter certain establishments, certain classrooms, talk to certain people–you just know that you’re where you’re meant to be.

I was lead to that forest for a very specific reason. It was by complete chance, to my limited human brain, that I came across the national park on the internet. I’ve looked at different national parks around this area on the internet millions of times and I’ve never seen this particular one–which is odd given how close it is to my proximity.

The first thing I noticed was the silence and the trees and the leaves. The leaves were like a neon green . . . but the day was dark and cloud cover completely encased the town in grey. There were only certain trees along our path with these colors. If I still had my Photoshop subscription, I’d manipulate a photo to show what the world looked like through my eyes.

case_4_of_6largeThere were lots of little gnats and moths and the trees were very loud. Not with words, but just with presence and enormity. I liked crawling in between them and sitting with them and letting them tell me it would be okay. The birds too. I tried to climb one, but being 50-60 pounds over my ideal weight and having been lazy the last two years of my life, I couldn’t really get far off the ground. That’s probably the other reason my blood pressure was a little high.

Which is partly why I’m walking more and changing my diet once again.

Anyway, none of that is the point. Don’t get me on another tangent. I’ve been on a lot of those lately. 

Now, after exiting that forest I felt like the universe really had my back. It was watching out for me. It could hear me screaming out mentally and it understood. When I returned that feeling had vanished. It was too hot, even under the cover of the trees, and that warmth I felt with the animals and vegetation had left. The only thing left was the three hawks circling right above me like I was a dead carcass–or about to be. Which I was.

It felt like I’d lost my reason to be here on Earth.

All my life I’ve been doing things with the universe on my side, even when I was a toddler I knew I had that connection. And now I felt like it has severed all contact with me. On top of that, my life is chaotic, unstructured, stressful, and I have no release. All of that lead up to why the police was called.

Something pushed me to go for another walk today. Also because I need exercise.

The moment I saw the monarch I understood everything.

By now you all know that I’m someone who strongly advocates for the spiritual and fantasy worlds. People call it irrational, but what I think is irrational is the idea that any one human being could understand all there is to understand about Earth, The universe, or even themselves. That’s irrational.

So I’m caught in a crossfire.


The Monarch isn’t just a butterfly, or a symbol of delicacy (for those bunches of you that like metaphors and similes and analysis), I see them as remnants of ancestors, of good spirits, of watchers. I don’t know where the thought came from, it just happened the instant I saw that first monarch.

More monarchs followed me along my path and that made me feel good because it lets me know I was wrong; the universe isn’t leaving me alone.

But something isn’t right. There’s a disconnect somewhere, a war. I mean, Trump is running for president. Come on.


Then I saw the ripped in half tail of a squirrel and it all made sense again. Those portions of the spiritual world that I feel watch me, that follow me, are at war with the portion that’s been guiding me. Both follow me along my path: a ripped bird wing lay in the middle of the walk way, along the path the monarchs followed me.

I wished I could speak the language of the Monarchs and understand more about what’s going on. I asked them to speak with me, but didn’t get an answer (is that a good thing?). I know these spirits embody every living thing on earth, including people, and I met a benevolent one in the form of an old man pacing back and forth on the grass of an apartment complex. He paused just to stare at me and smiled and I felt like a part of his spirit was related to the monarchs.

The problem I see with this is how can you tell the malevolent from the benevolent? Those “evil” ones, the ones that follow me and haunt me and rustle noises outside when I’m at Second Story at night, are tricky. They can play so many different forms.


Like I said, I’m caught in a crossfire. I’m in the middle of a war and maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe I need to exist for that war to exist and maybe that war needs to exist because I exist and maybe without me and the war, life itself wouldn’t exist.

This is what I thought of while I walked and picked out sign after sign of the war. There are many.

And as I walked, one of my other thoughts was “how could I turn this into a story?”. 

And that’s when it hit me.

I’m aware that how I see things isn’t how everyone sees things. To me it’s truth, to everyone else it’s nothing. I’m not incompetent, much to the hospital’s dismay. I’m also aware that sometimes people get a little turned off and confused when people say things like what I’ve said above. But when it’s turned into a fictional piece, when it’s suddenly labeled “fantasy”, that’s when we get to call things symbolism. That’s when we regard it as a deep piece of literature.

And maybe that can help those of us who think differently and can turn our experiences into a piece of history rather than our own personal nightmare. Maybe it can help us show others that there’s nothing to be scared of. Maybe it can help us show ourselves that there’s nothing in our mind to be scared of.

Writing isn’t just a form of therapy. It’s a way to communicate.

The monarchs, by the way, followed me home. 


Let Me Drop A Bomb Of My Own

Alright you know I have to say my piece on Paris.

I’ve been coming across random posts about it and I’ve just been sitting here waiting, lurking, eager for more information to come out. These things are always touchy subjects, especially in western civilization. It’s sparking a lot of fear (if you didn’t already know, America is known for it’s Culture Of Fear) and a lot of heartache.

Of course my heart goes out to the people of Paris who lost their lives, the people of Paris who lost their family and their friends, and the people of Paris who are now living in a state of emergency. It’s a moment in time that will affect the rest of many people’s lives in the worst way possible. For that reason it’s disheartening.

I hear a lot of people saying “we’re all in this together, stop the senseless killing.”

I hear a lot of people saying “we have to love each other, you guys.”

I hear a lot of people saying “fucking terrorists”

I hear even more people saying “fucking terrorists are going to come over here!” 

And now that it’s been revealed ISIS was behind the attacks, I’m sure I’m going to hear a lot more of “Fucking Islamic terrorists!”

Hmmm. Let me take a moment before I open my big ass mouth.

Stop. Stop with the “we’re all in this together” stop with the “fucking Islamic terrorists” stop with the fear. Stop and silence yourself. Now think.

ISIS is obviously a radical group. They obviously have an affinity for decapitation and mutilation and violence. There is no question about that.

And so do we. There is no question about that.

France vowed to get their revenge according to an article that was released two hours ago. They declared it an “act of war”.

Lets get one thing fucking straight here. This isn’t anything new. It shouldn’t be shocking. When you’re over in the middle east shooting down families, burning huts, blatantly disrespecting their religious choices, you think that’s not an act of war? You think it’s alright for all these armies to storm in there claiming they fight for “Freedom” (whatever the fuck that means) when really they only provide weapons and aide to the allied countries that supply them with oil? You think those haven’t been acts of war?

These attacks are not random. This is a cauldron of bullshit that has been bubbling for years and ISIS just happens to be one of the radical groups with enough power and craziness to act. So yes, you should be scared; there’s now a group with enough power to play your little game back at you.

This is not to say killing innocent people is alright. I feel deeply for the people of Paris; the citizens have done nothing to deserve this, just as the citizens in all those middle eastern countries did nothing to deserve the attacks on them.

You ever notice in all the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and such, we never got the true numbers of how many of their people died. We got the number of our soldiers. We were taught to grieve for our soldiers (and rightfully) but we don’t hear about the families torn to shreds, the children living in fear, the parents struggling to walk outside of their house to get food in fear of getting caught in the crossfire between radical groups and western troops.

And let’s also consider why the fuck groups like this even form. Yes, many have a religious agenda. Many hate their government (and have reason to). Others are like the Guerrilla’s in “When The Mountains Tremble”; they’re fighting because people are fighting them.

Let’s flip this around. Say America has some nice resources the rest of the world depended on. Let’s say we had civil unrest and our government was struggling and Europe wasn’t willing to save our ass and let’s say there were several groups formed throughout the country fighting for power. Would you agree to have ISIS over here and force their will and their agenda upon us with their guns and their tanks and their soldiers so they can secure their cash crop on our land?

My point? Mind your own fucking business.

Stay the fuck out of countries and countries will stay the fuck out of you.

I don’t care how much oil you loose. I’ll drive a Fred Flintstones car, I don’t give a fuck.

ISIS is a result of all this past bullshit. Yes, they’re militant and yes they’re religion based and they’re obviously ruthless, but they came from countries torn apart by unrest and foreign armies and induced poverty and government corruption. They started with radical demands for their own country, not anyone else’s. This attack wasn’t random, and the following attacks won’t be random. This is unrest that’s been bubbling for years and years and now it’s spilling over the rim.

That much hate doesn’t develop out of thin air. If the entirety of ISIS are enraged sociopaths than I’ll bite my tongue, but I don’t think that’s the case.

War is never about peace or freedom; war is about money, it’s about divided beliefs, and it’s about allied countries.

An article already speculates ISIS struck Paris because America finances Saudi Arabia.

What the fuck does that have to do with peace, religion, freedom, or any of that bullshit?

Okay, Okay, if I haven’t convinced you, consider this: How could something as gruesome as war blossom into something as pure as peace? It doesn’t. No one’s been fighting for freedom or justice. ISIS hasn’t, America hasn’t; the last justifiable war was World War 2 and I will forever stand my ground on that.

Anyone feel a World War 3 approaching? The best thing we can hope for is that everyone will be so busy taking selfies with their guns to show how badass they are hardly anyone will get killed.

So to those who say “why can’t we live in peace and love each other?”, there’s your answer. Because it’s never been about peace or love. It’s never been about helping people, it’s never been about embracing freedom and human rights because all three principals are violated in the midst of war. ON BOTH SIDES.

Why don’t we grieve both for Paris and for the countries ISIS has bombarded? For all the families that have been torn apart by governmental and military industrial complexes? And grieve for ISIS; they’re lost people. They grew up in war and the only thing to cling to in the midst of horror is faith, religion, God–everything else gets blown to hell. They’re fighting for what they believe in because they’ve had nothing else to believe in. That’s not giving them an excuse to murder. It’s proving to you there is humanity amidst tragedy and pain and delusion.

If you truly believe in “World Peace”, if you truly wish we could “all love each other”, if you truly believe we’re all apart of each other, than you’ll be able to have compassion for even the most diabolical, the most freakish, the most fiendish, loathsome monster.

If you truly believe in worldly unity, in Truth, in love, than you’ll be like the mother who hugs her child’s killer in an act of acknowledgement, in an act of selflessness and realization that hurt occurred in their life as well.

You’ll be the one who understands the difference between compassion for these people and justification of their actions.

We’ve been structured to have emotions only for ourselves, only for our great country and our great values. We aren’t taught to explore the possibilities of other’s hurt. We’re taught to see that what ISIS did was wrong but not to understand that it wasn’t unprovoked.

It’s good to live in the present; it’s atrocious to live without acknowledgement for the past and that’s what we’ve been doing. I’ll say it once more; groups like this don’t pop out of the ground.

I’ll also say this once more: ISIS has no justifiable reason for their murders. Rarely is there any justifiable reason for murder. What they did was disgusting, it’s horrendous, it’s soul crushing. As is every other bombing, shooting, and act of war across the span of the globe. This is nothing new and it’s nothing shocking. Stop acting like it.

Acknowledge what you’ve done, learn from where you’ve been, and apply it to the present. Once government/military agents, radicals, and religious sects come to this sort of consensus, once we all realize our world is only as humane as our strongest opposition to humanity, maybe then we can claim ourselves progressive and civilized.

Until then, I’d get used to considering yourself primitive.

P.S: I think everyone would do well to educate themselves about actual Islamic practices. ISIS should do this more than anyone. 

P.S.S: America will have it’s time. We’re not invincible and neither is Europe. I’d suggest they all examine this truth a little more closely.