Marriage

thief2

Acute Pain.

Do I want to go there?  No, but I’m going anyway.  Call me sadomasochist.  How can I heal if I refuse to look at the pain?  I choose to look at it today.  I know it’s going to hurt.

It all started the day I found a document.  You had left it on the kitchen table for me to find.  We were married already.  We had promised to be true and honest to each other.  Perhaps this was your attempt at being truthful.

I saw the folded document on the table, picked it up and looked at it.  I started reading and as my eyes moved down across the page, my heart sank.  I could hardly believe it.  My thoughts were transported back in time to the previous months, the previous years.  You had been playing me all this time!

I walked to you and handed you the document.  You were pale and frightened.  I looked you in the eyes and asked you:  “Why did you do it?”  You said you were sorry, tried to explain and started crying.  I just stood there and listened to you.  I don’t know what my exact thoughts were at that moment.  I was confused.

It took me several days to pick up the pieces of my heart from the floor, reassemble them, find my brain and reconnect it, attempt to start thinking straight again and find a solution.  Eventually I did find one.  It cost me a lot, but you were my wife after all and my job was to forgive you and help you, not condemn you.  I was a good Christian boy.  It took three and a half years to repair the damage that you had caused.  I was confident that you had learned something from this experience, that it would never happen again, and that our relationship would be strengthened in the process.

You promised to never do it again, I remember.  But you did it again, the exact same thing at the exact same place.  I was baffled.  I couldn’t believe it.  But I was patient, I sat with you and asked you to explain.  Your eyes became watery and you said it was because of the place:  “When I go there, I don’t know what happens but I lose my mind.”  I understood, and we agreed to never to go to that place again.

I thought the matter was resolved.  But then, you did it again in secret.  We were not at that place and I was not with you and you did it deliberately and tried to hide it, but I found out.  I questioned you and this time you were a bit more defensive and said that you were not perfect, that you could not control yourself, that we needed to put in place some kind of strategy to help you.  So I worked up a plan.  It took me many hours of work.  I showed it to you and you agreed to go with that plan.

I thought the matter was finally settled but as the months and years went by, I noticed that you were not following the plan.  You were twisting it every way you could in order to gain hidden benefits, all the while pretending that the plan was brilliant and working.  It was not working.  You were cheating.  I decided to check everything you had done in the previous two years and realized, to my horror, that you had found a way to fool me using the plan.

At that point I cried.  I realized that this was no weakness of yours, it was intentional manipulation.  You had this secret agenda to trick me since the beginning and your crying and apologizing were part of it.  I was devastated.  I started questioning my own sanity.  I started hating myself for being so naïve and forgiving.  I should have left you the first time, before we had children.  Now I was more stuck than ever.  There was no way you would ever change and there was no way that I could ever trust you again.

There is a name for what you are doing.  I learned it this week.  It’s called Domestic Theft.  My soulmate is a thief and nothing can be proven since we are in a financial partnership called marriage.

Vanity

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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.

My Temple

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Okay, I’ve had enough of this.
I’m rebuilding my temple right now!

You tried to ruin me but it didn’t work.  You thought you had defeated me but you didn’t.

Among the ruins there was still something shining, a gem.  My tabernacle didn’t die.  My holy of holies went into a coma, temporarily, but has awakened.  Beware because it gained strength.  You think you have subjugated me but you haven’t.  I played dead so you would stop kicking and leave me alone.  I was still breathing undetectably.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now.  I’m making it stronger this time.  I will not let thieves like you enter, ever!  My temple is sacred.  It’s my permanent dwelling place, my home and my fortress.  I live in it, I rule within it, I control every aspect of it.  And I have an ally.

My temple is my castle but also the abode of the god who uplifted me.  My rescuer and my power, the one who reminded me who I really was.  The only one who told me how much I was worth in his eyes and in the eyes of those who love me, the sons of eternity and Eternity himself.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now.  I picked up the scattered stones and placed each one in its proper place.  You will see it and probably think that it’s the same old temple, but it’s not.  You see the exterior but not the interior.  You can throw words at it and anything else you want, but you will not have access to the one living inside of it.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now and it will be indestructible.  It is a living temple, a breathing temple, a self-healing temple.  This temple is nothing less than the house of god and guess who that god is.  The temple will transmute as the person within it transforms.  You won’t see the transformation of course, because you are blind to the resurrected.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now and I will protect it.  I have hired a watchman, a doorkeeper, a guardian.  I gave him clear instructions:  never to let you in.  I know you will try.  You will act nice and innocent.  You will call me honey, flatter me and tell me that you love me.  Perhaps even kiss me.  I know you, daughter of Judas.  I can see through you now.  I have new eyes, bionic eyes, bullshit-sensitive eyes, and I WILL use them.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now and don’t even try to sneak in.  Don’t say you are sorry, don’t waste your breath.  My relationship with you is beyond repentance.  It is nonredeemable.  One day you might wake up and assume your divine nature but you won’t enter my temple.  You’ll have to build your own.  But it won’t happen.  Not in this realm because it is thicker and even more fucked up than you ever were.

I’m rebuilding my temple right now and I will not allow anyone inside except those who love the god within it.

Dead Romance

Skull Lovers

Why am I still here?

I’m here to piss you off, to remind you that you’re not who you think you are.

All this niceness you dress yourself with, all these friends you surround yourself with, all this makeup and bright white teeth, none of it is you.

You’re a mask, a walking Christmas tree with ornaments and colored lights flashing.  Yeah, you’re a fucking pine tree, all green and greedy, covered with needles.  Without the ornaments you’re just a pile of pricks.

I’m here to remind you who you really are.  I’m your true reflection, the one you don’t want to look into.  I’m the magic mirror here to tell you how ugly your beautiful exterior is.

I’m sorry I exist.  Sorry I was put into your life.  Sorry I never say how wonderful you are and how much I admire you.  Your fake friends can do that.  I don’t do this shit.  Sorry.

You can hate me.  I allow you to abhor me.  Because I don’t flatter you like the others do.  I’m a thorn in your life, ain’t I?  You wish I would leave but I won’t.  You dragged me into your life, remember.  You lured me in like a fish.  Now you’re stuck with me.

I know why I’m here.  I’m here to piss you off because you pissed me off first.  I’m your karma.  I’m the effect of your cause, the harvest that you sowed.  The rotten fruit of your labor.

Admire.

 

The Fall

Fallen Angel 5

It concerns the fall of angels, the fall of man, and my fall.

It’s the same story, told from different perspectives.

We’re screwed because we screwed.  We’re fucked because we fucked.

It’s so simple, yet unbelievable.  I certainly did not believe it.  And now I wonder why I’m screwed.

We’re screwed even if we don’t screw but if we screw we’re screwed even more.

Fucking fucks you up — literally.

My Celestial Lover told me, at the very beginning, to save my love for Him and Him only.  To save my soul, my mind, my body and my excitement (including orgasm) for Him only.  But I didn’t believe Him.  I thought screwing an earthling would be more exciting.  How wrong I was.

This is the ultimate betrayal.  To betray my own god and my own divinity, and go ahead and act like a screwing beast.  Even if I call it “making love” and my purpose is to have a wife and kids, I’m still screwing Him, screwing myself, screwing my wife and my children.

I reproduced and now I’m responsible for them.  We’re stuck, it’s true, we all are.  Caught in this cycle.  The only way out is to return to my Celestial Lover and accept his mercy.  It’s impossible for me to repair the wrong that I did.  Killing my children is an option, but it won’t save me.  Pretending that everything is wonderful and good is another option, in fact this is what most people do.

The big lie that we are told is that the Creator made us like this, with physical bodies.  The truth is, He didn’t.  He gave us ethereal bodies.  If we find ourselves in physical bodies today, it’s because celestial beings screwed with earth-apes a long time ago.  Then the human race was born, out of this screw up.  The Creator allowed them to incarnate and reproduce, but this was not His idea.  He said to the alien-angels:  “Look, there is a new planet there with earth-apes on it.  Go and help them evolve.  You can dress up to look like them (shapeshift and materialize), enjoy their company and all the earth stuff, but do not screw with the earth-apes.”

We disobeyed and screwed.  I said we.  Yes, WE.  That includes me, and you.  Those celestial being are our ancestors.  So are the earth-apes.  As for me, I’m a half-breed.  I must choose my destiny.  I have a choice.  The same choice they had.  To live as a god or as a beast who screws earthlings.  I chose to screw earthlings.  Not just once, but many times, repeatedly.  I fucked up bigtime.  My whole life is a continual fuckup.

Now I suffer the consequences.

My Divine Partner had told me so, but I was also told something else.  There was His message, not to screw up, but there was also another one who said:  “Look, you are a mammal.  So do what they do on the Discovery channel.  It will be great, you will get rich and become a father like your Father in Heaven.”

I listened to this last one and I did become a father.  The father of demi-mortals who have to figure out what this fucked-up world is all about:  who they are, where they come from, what they’re doing here and where they are going.  I could tell them what I’ve learned, but they won’t believe me.  Besides, they would suffer even if they would not screw and reproduce.  They will have to die too and watch their children suffer and die, just like I do.

It’s a sad and horrible situation to be in.  I felt it yesterday and again this morning.  This realization totally overwhelmed me.  I couldn’t focus on anything else.  I had to release it.

This blog is where I execute myself.

The only happiness available now is dopamine and/or salvation.  We know how dopamine works, but do we know how salvation works?  Salvation is reconnecting with the Divine Person who became your partner when you were conceived.  Your double, twin mate, guardian angel.  Your twin flame, your celestial spouse, the future you (Him).  You have to CALL Him.  I say Him but you can say Her since they shapeshift, remember?  You have to communicate with Him, commune with Him, identify with Him, surrender to Him and finally merge with Him.  This saves you from the shit pit you chose to dive into.  It’s the only way out.

“Celestial Spouse, please pull me out of this shit pit!”

He pulls my soul out, lifts me up and shows me where I am.  I must cling to Him, otherwise I fall right back in.  He pulls me out again, but then I slip and fall again.  This will probably go on until the day I die.

Happier are those who don’t have babies to watch.