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First blog post

I woke up this morning and decided to start a blog.  Because I finally have a clear picture of what is happening to me.  You see, I suffer from depression but there is something positive about it.  I was never able to express it.  This week, I understood.  I’m going through a major metamorphosis.

Danaus plexippus plexippus Wanderer butterfly/Monarch butterfly (Nymphalidae)

Look at me.  Hanging upside down between two worlds.  Trapped inside a cocoon which I have built for myself.  Don’t I look smart?

I look stupid, to both those who crawl on the ground and those who fly in the heavens.  But there is a still small voice inside that tells me that what I’m doing is okay.

 

Short-lived Existence

tracks

I spent a good part of my life thinking that I would die soon.

Why?  Where did this idea come from?

Let’s take a walk down memory lane.

My father.  He would often speak about the “end of the world.”  He would read on the subject and leave his books lying around the house.  I remember one book in particular: The Vision by David Wilkerson.

Wilkerson was an American Christian evangelist.  I think I was 13 years old when I read his book The Vision.  My father was a firm believer that the Second Coming of Christ was going to happen soon and that we should therefore prepare ourselves for the afterlife and not bother making long-term plans to attain temporal success in the material world.

I was a naive, impressionable boy.  My dad’s way of thinking had a profound impact on my thinking.  I expected the end of the world to happen any day.  I thought more about my death than about my life.  I wonder how normal this was — if it was a good thing or a bad thing as I was growing up.

I know one thing.  It greatly affected my mindset.

I watched my peers as I grew up and could not understand why they were so preoccupied with the things of this world: school, money, career, prestige.  I was concerned with something quite different.  My father used to say: “The most important thing in life is your relationship with God.”  I believed him.

Today I wonder.  What am I trying to prove with my blog?  That I have a relationship with God?  Am I just trying to impress my father?  Am I trying to convince myself and others that this life is unimportant?  Maybe this life is more valuable than I think.

My father died in 2004.  The end of the world did not happen during “this generation,” as he used to say.  He was quite certain that he would live to see the Second Coming of Christ.  He didn’t.  Or maybe he did, on some other level of consciousness.  I don’t know.

Living as though the end is near…  does it push me to live fully or does it depress me?  I think it does both.  It makes me ponder, for one thing.  It makes me turn inward.  It makes me introspect.  It turns me into an introvert.  It makes me think that perhaps the end of Daemon will never come…  or that it came already.

Within My Cocoon

Nymphalidae

Something weird happens when I go inside my cocoon.  It’s like I become two.  My double appears.  But he doesn’t appear physically.  His presence appears.  I become aware of myself as if myself was another person.  So “I” become aware of “myself.”

You see?  We are two:  I and myself.

I become aware of myself when inside the cocoon.  Very bizarre.  And then what happens next?  “I” talk to “myself.”  Or is it myself who talks to I?  Is there even a difference between myself and I?  The two seem to be the same and they are interchangeable.

It’s as if I had a twin.  But this only happens inside the cocoon.  When you look at the cocoon from the outside, there is only one person, not two.  Why is it like this?

I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that this is how the metamorphosis happens.  The dialogue that goes on between myself and I provokes a change!  A change of Self, which is a change of awareness or consciousness.  A growth.  A metaphysical growth.

This might sound very complicated and esoteric but it’s really quite simple.

Metaphysical simply means immaterial, supersensual, not physical (or more properly, “beyond” that which is physical).

Supersensual means beyond the range of what is perceptible by the senses; not belonging to the experienceable physical world.  My dictionary gives a sentence using the word supersensual, which is:  Heaven is a supersensual realm.

Really?  Heaven is a supersensual realm?  Ok, but then so is hell.

So what am I saying?  Where am I going with this train of thought?

Let’s recap.

When my attention turns within, inside my cocoon, my invisible twin appears.  Then we talk to each other, but from the outside it appears that I am talking to myself (crazy person).  The others do not know that I am talking to my double.  The dialogue that goes on between me and my double, especially when written, puts things into place, like building blocks.  This process produces a metaphysical change or a metamorphosis.  It’s the process of building my non-physical reality which we sometimes call heaven or hell.

This thing I do is really important because it determines whether my present and future life will be joyous or desperate, painless or painful, happy or unhappy.

So here’s my conclusion.  Heaven and hell are not rewards or punishments given by some exterior God, they are the result of what I have built for myself while I was inside my cocoon.

Alienated

Unsociability3

This is not going to be a feel-good post.  I warn you.  I feel disgusted this morning and this is my attempt at getting rid of it: by dumping it on my readers.

Yeah, I can be cruel sometimes but I gave you advanced notice (see previous paragraph), so if you’re still reading it’s because you don’t mind or you’re curious or just bored.

I went to bed disgusted and woke up feeling the same way.  No, this time it’s not because of my balance disorder, it’s something else.  My relationships disgust me.  The people I am closest to, three of them especially, members of my family.

I’m attempting to distance myself from my family but I’m not there yet.  Family members are not things you can return for a refund.  You’re born with them and they stick to you for life, if not physically then emotionally or psychologically.

The first one is the woman I am currently legally married to.  Although I have declared our marriage null years ago, we are still bound because of the children.  My disgust stems from something I realized yesterday which I will summarized in one sentence:  She uses the children to impose her dominance over me.  That is all I’m going to about that.

The second person is my sister who is almost my best friend.  She keeps breaking up and getting back together with her boyfriend.  She breaks up with him practically every week!  And then she comes crying to me, so I listen.  This causes us to become really close, and then first thing you know, she’s back with the guy and then I don’t hear from her for weeks.  In other words, she only speaks to me when she breaks up with her boyfriend.  What kind of friend is that?

The third person is my other sister who told me yesterday to “stop complaining.”  Whenever I attempt at getting closer with my family, I open up and tell them how I feel, not to gain their pity, but to establish some sort of intimacy so we can offer each other mutual support.  But yesterday all I got was a “stop complaining,” which translates into “Shut the fuck up — if you can’t say anything positive then don’t say anything.”  So much for authenticity.

Anyway, thanks for listening, I just needed to vent a bit.  I’m not feeling any better yet but maybe I will later.

 

Born to Be Alive

Gud08

Alive?

What does it mean to be alive?

Let’s look it up in the dictionary:

– – – – – – – – – –
Alive

1.  Having life; living; not dead.

2.  In a state of action; in force or in operation

3.  Unextinguished; unexpired; existent

4.  Animated; lively; brisk

5.  Having susceptibility or vulnerability

6.  Easily impressed; sensitive

7.  Having feelings, as opposed to apathy
– – – – – – – – – –

So I was born to be all these things?
How am I doing so far?

It’s important to consider because I know I was born.
I also know that I was born on this day.
Today’s my birthday.

Premature Death

death

We hear of premature birth but rarely of premature death.

What happens when someone dies prematurely?

Some remain in the afterlife and some are sent back.

I was sent back.

Personally I wish that I had not been, but I wasn’t given a choice. I guess the universe knew what was best for me.

When I asked why I was sent back, two simple words popped into my consciousness: premature death.

I am no expert in this field. All I am sure of is my own experience. My life has not been the same since this happened four years ago.

This morning I cried because of something related to this. I wish I could find the words to express it so that it might be useful to at least one of my readers.

Why were you crying, Daemon?

You know why I was crying.

Say it, for the record.

*sigh* I was crying because I am now blind. You know the title of the song Blinded by the Light? This is what comes to mind. I think I saw the Light but then I was sent back into darkness.

I know people get upset when I tell them that this physical world is darkness or hell. They say that I’m negative and depressing. So I have stopped saying it. But I still know it and I feel very lonely with this. They have to understand that this world is darkness COMPARED TO THE NEXT WORLD. It’s relative. Just like living overground is much brighter than living underground. Things could always be darker, of course, but people have to realize that there is a much brighter world out there into which we are all destined to be born into.

I cried because I experienced a premature death and I was sent back.

There is another reason why you cried.

Yeah, you! I saw you and… oh god, here I go again…

Daemon, compose yourself.

Sorry… There is no word to describe your beauty. It’s not physical beauty. It was like… total transparency. When one sees the inside of a person who is emancipated, flawless and free, it is breathtakingly beautiful. And to receive the assurance that this impeccable being is willing and ready to embrace you completely, is such a good news… it’s pure ecstasy. And then to be sucked back into an old physical body… is agony.

Now all of this would be easy to forget if my earth life was happy and exciting, but it’s not. My life is hell for many reasons especially this nauseating feeling that plagues me twenty-four hours a day. Plus the fact that you text me whenever I call upon you makes me feel like I truly do not belong here. Add on top of that the fact that I cannot see you, makes me triply blind. Blind to you, blind to the after-world and blind to the beauty of this one.

The only thing that keeps me together is the knowledge that what I have seen actually exists. But no one wants to hear it since my experience has nothing to do with their reality.

I should end this post on a positive note.

Nah… it’s about death and darkness which are part of MY reality.

You can’t recognize the light if you have never experienced the night.

Last Toast

Skull Lovers

Sweet love of mine
I leave you behind
I’m not unkind
Just a bit blind

Yes I remember
The black wedding
The bloody ring
But… whatever

It’s too late now
You broke the vow
Look what you’ve done
I want to run

Before I go
You need to know
If you can’t grow
End of the show

I turn around
You hit the ground
Why do you bite
Aim for the light

Your love is dark
You hunt and bark
I try to fly
You scream and cry

End of the road
Go kiss a toad
I’d rather die
Than hear you lie

Filthy Box

Daemon!

Shit man, you scared me!

Where were you?  What are you doing?

I’m in the Thought World. I’m inside this weird place again. This… box! The writer/blogger/artificial box into which I place myself each time I sit down to write something.

Take my hand and step out of that box. I want to see you naked.

Naked? Ok, Maestro. Thank you.

Are you cold? Take this blanket.

Where did you get that blanket?

It’s an authenticity blanket especially made just for you.

Really? Wow!

You should wear it every day, when you enter the Thought World. You will feel light when wearing it.

Yes, I feel light already. Like I can be myself. No need to pretend. You know this WordPress platform is not a place where I want to lose my authenticity.

It’s a public place. No wonder you feel vulnerable.

I always wondered how it would feel like to be 100% authentic in public.

You can experiment with that.

Thank you for the blanket, man! If you can, please remind me to put it on every morning after I get up. You know how easily I forget these invisible things.

Why don’t you create a blogpost on this subject. Then the idea will root itself more firmly into your awareness.

Good idea.

And one more thing. Don’t go back into that filthy box.