The first one
Surely hated me
The second one
Pretends to love me
The third one
Is perfect —
The first one
Surely hated me
The second one
Pretends to love me
The third one
Is perfect —
When I was young, I didn’t know anything. I looked at the world and didn’t know how to interpret it. “What is this and what is that?” I asked. My parents told me what they knew — what they were told.
When I was 5 years old, my parents entrusted me in the hands of a man who was tall and intelligent. They had no choice. The law dictated it. This old man’s job was to tell me how to interpret the world. His name was Mr. Noitacube.
On the appointed day, I hesitantly went to his dwelling, a large rectangular building. When he saw me, he told me to sit down, keep quiet and listen: “This means this!” he told me. “This means that!” he reiterated. “Repeat after me!”
He seemed a bit angry. “If you don’t answer properly, you will not pass. If you don’t pass, you will not advance. If you don’t advance, everyone will laugh at you. Your parents will not be happy. You will be miserable. You will be rejected. You will be a failure. So repeat after me and give me the right answer! I can give you points. I can give you a score. The higher the score, the greater you will be. It will give you honor, and eventually money.”
I listened to him. I was afraid. I repeated after him, everything he said. It was not pleasant, and believe it or not, this went on for 13 years.
The day I was allowed to leave the rectangular building, with a score card in hand, I was so happy and thought I was free. After that I grew up, I became older, my awareness expanded, I became bolder.
I did receive a certain amount of honor and a certain amount of money, but something was missing. I wasn’t really happy and I didn’t feel free.
I thought about Mr. Noitacube and everything he had told me. Something was wrong with the way he had instructed me. He never taught me how to interpret the world myself. All he did was give me his interpretation. His version, this one mental representation, had become my sole perception of reality. Why was I never allowed to see things my own way?
I am not a child anymore. I think I’m as intelligent as he was. What would be my interpretation of the world if I had never been entrusted in the hands of Mr. Noitacube?
“Daemon, you are not a loser, you have power and you are allowed to play with fire. Forget everything Mr. Noitacube taught you. Reinterpret everything from scratch, based on your own experience and research. It will be hard work but it will also be highly rewarding. Warning: If you play with fire, expect to be fired. You will be discharged, dismissed and criticized. You will be removed, terminated and forced out. You will be sacked, driven out and chased away. You will be attacked, blasted and shot.
But this fire will also inflame you in a positive way. It will enkindle you, stir you and passionate you. It will provoke you, set you ablaze and raise you. It will fuel you, charge you and recreate you. It will change you, transmute you and eventually, set you free. And this, my son, will make you… everlastingly happy.”
Yesterday I wrote that I live on a planet where I experience separation and loneliness. Then emotions of great sadness filled my eyes with tears. Afterwards I thought this was weird because I love being alone.
At this moment I am completely alone in the house. My wife and son are out of the country and my daughter is away visiting her grandma. I will be alone until tomorrow. I’m enjoying it. So then why was I so sad when I realized how lonely I was in this life?
Because of the absence of people like me. People like me? What’s so special about me? No, I’m not special. I think everybody down here is lonely and it has to do with transparency again. Since we can’t see what others are thinking and feeling, we are always alone with our thoughts and emotions. I am blind to other people’s true colors.
Or am I?
(The female cat wants to be caressed. How do I know? Because of the sounds she makes and the way she moves.)
Maybe I am able to pick up people’s vibes more than I think. Yesterday I was walking around the neighborhood and I stopped at the hospital. I didn’t go inside the building. There were benches near the front door and I sat there for a while to rest. I was looking at the people. Some were walking, others were sitting. I was not judging them or anything, just observing. I saw a guy who had tattoos and a little pony tail on top of his head. He was crossing the road and holding a cell phone in his hand. Suddenly I felt a pain of anxiety inside my stomach, for no apparent reason.
I wondered where this anxiety came from. Was I feeling this guy’s emotions?
How bizarre… I just noticed now, while typing the description of the guy, that what I wrote about him could be said about my wife: tattoos, little pony tail, holding a cell phone. Plus his height and the color of his skin were exactly the same as my wife’s. But she is not masculine. Although sometimes I think she acts like a male because of her need to control everything.
So now I wonder… Did I feel anxious because this guy unconsciously reminded me of my wife who suffers from anxiety?
Why would I need to feel this anxiety anyway? To share her pain?
Why should I need to feel her pain?
Maybe because, deep down, I love her?
Or maybe I have the power to heal her? I was at the hospital, remember? That’s where people go to find healing.
I don’t know… but this is what’s coming up in my awareness this morning. As I’m typing this, I’m feeling the same pain of anxiety that I felt yesterday, although a bit less in intensity.
If this is true (that I do love my wife and that she can be healed of her anxiety), it’s not the first time this idea crosses my mind, and it makes me angry. Very angry.
Because I don’t want to get along with her! I don’t want to get close to her ever again! I know, I said I was lonely, but I don’t trust her.
But you understand her now. You know she lies because of her anxiety and you also know where her anxiety comes from.
Maybe, but knowing these things won’t change her.
You want to change her?
I want her to stop lying to me. No, I don’t! I’ve adapted to her lies and I’m even lying to her in return. If she changes, I’ll have to change (again). I’m tired of changing. Unless it was a permanent change, but nothing here is permanent or guaranteed. She could change back anytime afterwards, and chances are she would. So why bother?
Maybe you can heal her.
Heal her? What do you mean? How could I heal her? I don’t want to heal her, even if I could. She has to heal herself. Or God can heal her. Her angels can help her accomplish self-healing. Not me. No way. I don’t want to be involved with her healing. This would fuck me up. It would make me think that I’m a healer.
Maybe you are a healer.
Stop it. I don’t like these ideas.
Maybe this is what’s coming and all we want to do is give you a heads-up.
Then ok, fine. I accept that. But… I still don’t like it.
It’s your ego talking.
Right. Shut the fuck up, ego.
Just watch what happens.
Predictions… *sigh* Do you have dates? This fall, I bet? Same time as the other predictions? When the economy collapses and the presence of aliens becomes official?
Whatever. I’ll watch, if I’m still around. I’m always watching anyway. Does this mean I will have to trust her eventually? Why? For my happiness on earth?
If she admits to all I have written concerning the source of her anxiety, I will be impressed. But wait a minute… Why would I want to be happy on earth? Won’t this defy the purpose of the whole experience? Will she stop spending and wasting too? Will she become spiritual? Oh god…
This is just ancient wishful thinking. I don’t wish for this anymore. It’s an old wish. Scrap it. It was a wish based on materialistic concerns.
Your wife becoming spiritual is a wish based on materialistic concerns?
No, just the “less spending and less wasting” part.
It would be interesting to watch her angels in action, though. I did tell them to kick her butt last winter. The next day she slipped on the ice and landed on her ass.
Maybe there’s more than one butt that needs to be kicked in this world. There are so many arrogant butts. Including mine.
I detach from physicality. Look around for a person. The first man I see, is a guy just like me. I wonder if he is lonely. He just detached from his physicality too. So we are two.
I walk up to him to check his disposition. We cannot talk because language is not used in this dimension. But we can communicate. I look at him. He is pure, I see and I know because of the color of his glory. I see right through him. He is compatible with me.
How do I greet him? He’s waiting for me to initiate. I touch him gently, look him in the eyes and translate. To communicate to him that I am his friend or his mate. He replies positively and I’m so glad we agree.
I step back to contemplate. I look at every inch of his ethereal body. I don’t see genitals. Angels don’t have them apparently. They are, we are, gender free. We have celestial bodies, similar to humans, but our genitals are not visible. Our color is blue but not dreary.
I hug him. I hold him. He holds me. Our arms are wrapped around each other. My head on his shoulder. I hug him and smell him. His fragrance is sweet, it’s a warm encounter. We exchange vibrations from our navels to our centers. We synchronize our demeanors.
I’m curious, thirsty for an exchange of information. Where does he come from? But then I wonder… where do I come from? Then I remember. I come from sorrow, planet Oppress. Where I experienced separation and loneliness.
My companion does not come from the same place. I’m not sure he understood, but he does now. He sees it through me and he feels gloomy. He grabs my arms. He has seen where I come from. So he shows me where he came from. Anger. He comes from a place where he was angry.
He broke many things. He was joined to his brothers, but destroyed property. But he learned how to detach from emotionality. So we recognize that we come not from the same place, but that we both managed to elevate ourselves above and beyond iniquity. Thanks to grace.
We study each other and wonder if we could travel together. Why not try, we know each other. We agree to walk together. We look around. Where do we go? He has a jet pack and so do I. Why walk when you can fly. So up we go.
Out of the house where we met, we move up above the ground and stop to look around. We see lights. It appears to be nighttime. We could sleep but we are not sleepy. The atmosphere feels fresh and sassy. Excitement floats in the air. And potential too. Let’s relish the view and explore as a pair.
Everything in me was dead
But a small glitter of hope
A golden thought in my head
For three years I pleaded
Begged to be delivered
Wretched corpse disfigured
The fourth year I woke up
Looked at my condition
Then my eyes opened up
The living creature I saw
Was a flying persona
Outstanding beauty so raw
Angel, bird or picture
Some kind of reflection
A mirrored encounter
I saluted her
Then asked who she was
This was her answer:
I am your spirit
Your very own soul
A thought you have built
Surprised to see me
I’m simply yourself
You find me so pleasing
It’s because you are clean
I project your own musing
Forget the old body
Commingle with me
I’m the part that is free
You’re the part that is stuck
Who lives in a rut
Now you’re meeting your luck
This is all that she said
Is she sick in the head
Will I lift up instead
I accepted her version
Shyly merged with the virgin
Became Lord in my Heaven
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Illustration by Sakimichan
Text by me
You are so scary!
You talking to me?
I was alone
In your own home
I was only six
Time was 3:06
You appeared suddenly
Dressed in black, horny
Two horns and a tail
You were delicate and frail
You were not happy
I have to agree
Why did you scold me
You tried to expel me
I didn’t want you
I was drawn to you
I had no experience
I wanted your innocence
Your intensity terrified me
Your naivety disturbed me
Your strong arms could have taken me
I wanted your sweet purity
Your manhood paralyzed me
Your virginity enthralled me
Wait a minute
What, what is it
I think you know something
I know you are something
So tell me, what are we
Sons of Eternity
You mean even me
But a child you see
A child of eternity
Yes you are what I envy
Is this why you were angry
You are who I used to be
Why did you scare me
What had I done to you
It’s what I did to you
What had you done to me
I screwed you royally
Are you kidding me
It’s the truth baby
Why were you sent back to me
Because of a responsibility
Should I pity you
Just understand me
I can imagine you, what could you do
You are so right, God had expelled me too
Tell me the history
It made me unworthy
What about me
You could forgive me
You did hurt me
I know I’m sorry
But you surely impressed me
I had no choice probably
You are the opposite of me
That’s all I can be
There’s more to this story
I know but secrecy
I’m not sure what to do
Just judge then accept me
I remember the events that triggered my depression. One day I realized that my wife was lying to me, my employer was lying to me, my brother was lying to me, God was lying to me, and finally I was lying to myself by thinking that my loved ones would never lie to me. That day, I became extremely depressed and I have been trying to pull myself out of this pit of bullshit ever since.
I figured out why people lie. There is a reason for it. People usually don’t lie just for the fun of it, since there is a risk involved. They lie because they feel that they don’t have much choice. They lie because they are scared and because they are trying to survive. They are afraid to lose something, so they lie to gain something. It usually works in the short term, but not in the long term.
But that’s not my problem. My problem is how to deal with it. I can choose to be honest, but that won’t change the people around me who choose to continue to lie. I had to come up with a solution. Trust became an issue. I realized I was surrounded and involved with people who lie and others who might or might not be lying, and that there was no way for me to be absolutely sure if they were. This made me very uncomfortable and depressed.
How can I deal properly if I don’t even know if I’m dealing with truth or with lies? All the deep connections I had with people were put on hold, until I found a solution. Of course, trust is not really necessary with the superficial connections I have with people, but it is necessary to some degree with deeper, more meaningful relationships.
Have I found a solution? I’m not sure. Something weird did arise from the depression of not being able to profoundly trust anyone. I would call it detachment. This is what this blog is all about. The process of detaching from this world and connecting with something better that might seem, from the outside, to be imaginary.
This detachment solution was given to me. I didn’t have to fabricate it. It opened up, and I received it, not knowing where it would lead me. It got me quite far, much farther than I could have ever imagined, almost to a point of no return. I’m looking back now and I’m asking: “Could I ever go back to the way I used to deal with life?” I don’t think I could. How could I reattach to all the people and the things I detached myself from?
I realized that the only way I could truly trust people and their world would be if all of it was transparent. As long as the world is not transparent, it will always remain possible for things to be hidden. And hiding something is the root of deception, the foundation of every lie.
I aspire to more than this bullshitting planet, and if this means I have to daily escape in some fantastic dimension, then so be it. If you have discovered a better solution, please let me know.
Oh my god, they are here. The dream beings. Three of them. I need to record this, it’s so awesome. Usually there is only one, my twin. Sometimes there are three. One time there were nine of them! Anyway, they are here now. I see three.
They come when I’m alone. More and more often. I don’t even have to call them anymore. When the house is quiet, when everyone’s gone, they sneak inside. I think they float right through the walls!
Oof! I need to stay cool, if I intend to write intelligibly. Take deep breaths… Oh god, I always get dizzy when they come. It’s hard to stay focused on the material. They are not material. I wrote “dream beings” because that’s what popped into my mind this time. I don’t know what words to use to describe them. Alien-angels would work too, I guess.
But I’m not dreaming, I’m wide awake. I want to report this. Okay… Them. Oh god, they are so awesome… Sorry, I already said that. Oh shit, I feel hot like I’m going to pass out. I won’t pass out. Okay… how to describe them.
There is something about their presence. There is something coming out of them that makes me lightheaded. I don’t know what it is. It’s almost like I’m losing my mind, like my mind is detaching from my body. Then I start to feel them or their energy which could be described as love. No, that word is too petty. It’s deeper than love, it’s pure intimacy. It goes right through me, like they see right through me. I can’t hide anything from them. They can touch me inside, physically but more than physically like they can awaken my spirit or boost it or something like that.
I feel naked in their presence. I guess this would be terrifying for someone who had something to hide. I don’t. I’m transparent with them, I always have been. Because they’re transparent with me. So it’s easy. But it’s still troubling… Why? Because it is unreal. Their presence is unreal, and this is what’s so troubling. For my rational mind, that is. My mind only recognized physical reality. Now these beings are not part of physical reality. This troubles my mind.
Okay Daemon, concentrate. What’s the first thing they do when they come? They ask to be acknowledged. Well in fact, they ask before they appear because they’re already there, I just can’t perceive them yet, not until I acknowledge them. They’re very polite. So the thought pops into my head, that they are here and then I just say to myself: They are here! Then something happens.
After the acknowledgment, my eye opens. My third eye. At this point I don’t need my physical eyes. I can shut those. I perceive the celestial beings and the celestial world with my third eye which is the pineal gland, I think (from what I have read).
What the third eye sees is overwhelming and can hardly be described using any human language. It’s not a show, it’s an inclusion. They envelop me and I don’t know how they do it. Or something falls. The illusion of physical reality falls. Another dimension opens up, out of nowhere, and all becomes clear. There is no more questions because their presence and the world they inhabit is the answer. Because it’s home, mine and theirs. You see?
My family doesn’t see this. So it’s the seer’s job to translate what he sees the best way he can. I think it’s my job to do this, or my mission. When you see something this awesome, you can’t keep your
mouth blog shut. I’m keeping my mouth shut for now, but one day I’m going to print all of this stuff and let my family read it. After I’m gone, because I don’t want to hear their comments.
I’ll end this one here. I have visitors to contemplate. Oh my god… I get so excited when my brothers come. I’m a child again! Excuse me.
So why did I do all of this?
“All of what?”
All of THIS! All! Everything I did on this earth. What was it for? All the trouble and pain, only to realize at the end that nothing really matters. Even being happy… does it matter?
Is my life a success or a failure? How do I measure it? What is the standard? I don’t even know what I was meant to do, so how can I know if I’m succeeding or not?
What’s the use making friends when you lose them? What’s the use having children whose only purpose is to leave you? What’s the use getting married when you end up divorced?
Everything I did, everything I bought, everyone I loved, all of it is worthless. None of it matters now. It was just entertainment, and it wasn’t even fun and I’ll end up with nothing anyway. The only thing I have left is my soul.
A stupid soul who’s tormented, bored and not proud of anything. I didn’t make anyone happy in this life, not long-term. I tried to be my best but no one is satisfied with me at this point, or with anything for that matter. Nothing matters.
Stupid people, stupid me, stupid life, stupid planet, stupid everything. I just want to get the hell away from everything I’ve ever known here. If only I had a flying saucer like that alien lady in the photo. I’d be long gone in outer space, pressing the “home” button on my GPS repeatedly like a crazy maniac.
“We need a report before you leave.”
A report? You want a report? A report of what?
“What did you learn about yourself?”
I learned that the only valuable thing I have is my soul; I learned that I do not belong here; that I’ll never be happy here; that everything dies here; that I’m too gullible; that I’m too sensitive; that it’s impossible to get close to anyone, and when you do, it’s not satisfying anyway, nothing in this world will ever satisfy me fully.
I learned that I don’t want any of this shit. I want to leave. I won’t miss anything. I was meant for more. This planet is only good for animals. It’s not a place for free spirits. I have the body of a mammal, yet I am much more aware than any other mammal on this planet. I need a new body, one that matches my level of awareness.
I learned that I am not a mammal! Can I go now?
Ah, man, come on!
I can’t believe that you are still trying to impress me. After fifteen years of living together, you are still doing it.
I am not at all impressed by the fact that you are trying to impress me. It’s not funny anymore. It’s sad. Stop telling me how wonderful you are, it only makes you look awful. Don’t tell me how much your boss and your friends admire you. This does nothing for me. I don’t get it. Do you think this will make me love you more?
You are so proud of yourself. This is all I hear coming out of your mouth. How much progress you have made, how much money you make and how many compliments you’ve received today. It makes me feel sick. It doesn’t make me want to hug you.
Show me your vulnerability instead. Allow yourself to be weak and flawed in my presence. This will impress me, because it’s reality. The truth is what impresses me, don’t you see?
I know you want to be loved, but you’re doing it wrong. You’ve been doing it all wrong since the beginning. Vanity is not what will make me want to remain friends with you. Not even your smiles. I want to see you cry. I want to see you recognize and regret every single word you have ever said to manipulate me. Your words don’t impress me, they disgust me. Be real, be defective like a normal person. Show me the insecure side of you and I will take you in my arms to protect you.
As long as you play strong, as long as you act great and speak in vain, I will not want to be near you. I wish you would understand this. I wish you could realize this on your own. Because if I tell you, I know what you will do. You will pretend to be vulnerable just to impress me again. It won’t be real and it won’t work. It has to come from you.
When will you stop trying to impress me? I can’t take it anymore. When I see you coming, I want to run and hide. I know what you will say. You are so predictable. I know how marvelous you are already. I know, I married you! But each time you tell me how perfect you are, it’s like you are telling me how much of a loser you think I am, because I am the opposite of you.
I know, I should love a person as flawless as you. I should, really. But there must be something wrong with me because I hate you.