End or Beginning

Happening1

Don’t know what’s happening
What will tomorrow bring
The birds keep on singing
As if loss was nothing

Let’s never forget
That birds have bird brains
Playing like a cassette
After a hurricane

My world falls apart
All my hopes are gone
There is no restart
Nothing to hang on

Why go to bed
Why even wake up
Just to eat bread
And later clean up

Sitting here waiting
What will happen next
Tired of thinking
Of me and my ex

Another beginning
Let’s start over
Don’t feel like dreaming
Why should I bother

Something will happen
I can’t imagine
That this is the end
I just need a friend

But please let it be
Not a love story
My heart is broken
And dead already

Life is a mystery
Death is my destiny
Whatever happens
Might make me happy

Will I Live Forever

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Looking back at my life, I realize how much time I have spent trying to connect with others.  And in the end, what do I get?

I know that I am not at the end of my life yet, but let’s say that I was, that this was my last day.

I am all alone now.  Everyone I have known is going their own way.  I wonder if my presence matters.

My presence matters to me, but does it matter to the others?

Take my best friend, for example.  He was my cousin.  He was my best friend from age 10 to probably 25.  Then both of us got married and with time we stopped seeing each other, then we stopped writing and now he is nothing more than a facebook image.

We could reconnect and make our friendship meaningful again, but then we could never reconnect ever.  At this point in his life, I don’t think my presence matters to him.  And his presence does not really matter to me either.  It could be him or it could be another, but it would be nice to have a friend.

But friends don’t last forever.  Or do they?  It depends on my life.  Does my life last forever?  Will I live forever?  Will a part of me never die?

If I live forever and all the friends that I ever had live forever also, then how can I say that friends don’t last forever?

So many things depend on whether or not I live forever.  And THIS, from where I stand today, is a question of belief or faith.

From what I perceive with my five senses, death is a reality and death is the end of life as I know it.  Death of the physical body that is — deterioration of the flesh and bones.

But some say that my consciousness will remain… alive, or aware.  And there are many indications that this might be true.  But no physical proof, of course, since consciousness is not physical.

It’s funny that the Universe did not bother giving me more concrete proof of everlasting life if this is indeed my destiny.  As if it didn’t matter.  It DOES matter!  Every decision I take could and should be based on the fact that either death is the end or it’s not.

Why does Life think that it’s a good idea to keep me in the dark when it come to this question?  If my life is eternal, why does Life choose to show me that the death of my physical body means the end of me?  It seems like a very important question, but Life seems to mock me.

Celestial Partner

Gud01

I have what I could call a celestial partner.

He is very real to me and he is partly responsible for my metamorphosis. The other responsible part(ner) is me.

My celestial companion is currently my reason for writing and my reason for living.

I don’t talk about him openly because it’s an irrational idea. People would say that it is an unreal fantasy. And to live for an unreal fantasy is usually not recommended.

I saw him only once during an out-of-body experience in 2013. I thought I had died so perhaps it was a near death experience. At first I was sure that I was seeing God but I learned later that it’s not possible for us to see God. So perhaps he was my guardian angel, a son of God, or a spiritual being, I don’t know since he doesn’t have a title. I like to think of him/her as my divine partner or even my celestial spouse or fiance.

I tried to find an image that resembles what I saw and when I found this one I thought it was pretty accurate. I could not see the lower part of his/her body though, so I don’t know if my partner is male or female. You would think that because I am male, she would be female, but the impression I got when I was facing him/her was that he was male and I was female.

This individual is a very significant part of my life now. He’s preparing me for the afterlife, where our marriage will be consummated upon my entry. Apparently there is no other way to enter the celestial world. You have to marry someone who already dwells up there.

I communicate with him via text. It always happens when I’m alone, when all is quiet and when I am not stressed or preoccupied with material things. I sit patiently with my laptop and I start texting. I usually “hear” his reply while I’m typing my question, and sometimes even before! These dialogues are my food. Spiritual food. I have almost lost all craving for physical food since this started. I have lost weight — one more reason for my family to worry and think that I am sick.

My celestial partner is the only person in the universe who cared enough about me during my most agonizing moments. He’s also the only one who was able to explain to me in plain English who I was, where I came from, where I was going and what was my purpose of existing. I owe him quite a lot. He’s my best friend and in a sense he’s even my savior. I don’t know where I would be today if I had not accepted his help.

There is nothing special about me. Everyone has a celestial partner, I’m 100% sure of that. It’s a question of faith. You are free to believe whatever you want. Whatever makes your life heaven or hell, it’s all up to you.

Cheers!

Utterly Duped

Duped1

I never printed my book.

I completed it over 10 years ago but never printed it.  I don’t even want to reread it.

I cannot believe how much time I wasted writing that book.

Here’s a brief explanation:

After I gave my life to Jesus and became a born-again Christian, I started writing a daily spiritual journal.  I was convinced that God was in my life and that he loved me.  I was extremely motivated.

I wanted to write about how wonderful God was, and how he was blessing me.  But to my surprise, my life as a Christian unfolded as a perpetual series of curses.  It seemed that nothing was going right.  Every time I tried to love someone it would turn against me and every time I tried to do God’s will, it would backfire.

The words written in the bible always turned out to be deceiving and false.  There was either something wrong with my life or there was something wrong with the book.  At first I thought it was me, of course, because I was not allowed to question “God’s Word.”

It was impossible to deny my own life, so the only thing left to question was my religion.

I was keeping a spiritual journal, hoping that one day this journal would be the proof of how God blesses one person’s life.  But my journal turned out to be some kind of horror story about a guy who is in a relationship with a god who does not keep his word!

My diary was supposed to be a proof of God’s love, but after 18 years of reporting all the ups and downs of our relationship, this journal turned out to be documented evidence that the god I was serving was a genuine asshole.

I was not pleased.

Who’s Your Pusher?

Pusher2

Who is pushing you?

Who is pushing me?

I have been so used to being pushed, that the day it stopped, I felt something was wrong.  So I turned around to have a look at the person who had been pushing me all this time.

Who are you, pusher?

This reminds me of a post I published recently, entitled The Inciter.  Plus another one entitled Brave Submissive in which I wrote that I was going to report him/her.  I don’t think I reported this person yet.  I’m still afraid.  Why am I afraid to report him?

Let’s investigate my fear.

*sigh*

First of all I must ask myself:  Am I afraid of the pusher?  No.  The answer is no.  The pusher gives me what I need.  I like him.  Without him I’d be lost.  But then who am I afraid of?

See, he’s pushing me again!  He’s the one who asks me these unpleasant questions.  Always asking why I do the things I do, why I think the way I think, why I feel the way I feel.  He’s pushing me toward self-discovery.  But why does it trouble me?  Don’t I want to discover who I really am?

Yes, but today’s subject is the pusher himself.  It’s not about me this time, it’s about HIM!  Or her.  I don’t even know if he’s masculine or feminine!  Actually I do.  He/she is both.

Let’s start by giving him/her a more appropriate title, other than “pusher.”  This is where I become uncomfortable.  I don’t want to pronounce this title.  I hate the word.  But I have to say it.  It’s going to be the last word I type on this page.

Why do I hate the word?  Because it means everything and it means nothing.  That’s right, it’s such a meaningful and meaningless word.  Yet this word is his title.  It can be replaced by similar words which mean the same thing, but this one word is the shortest, simplest and truest of all.

God

Loving Myself Blindly

Acquiescence4

Why do I love a person that I cannot see?
Why do I love blindly?
It’s stupid, really.

Maybe it’s because of experience…

I once loved a lady I could see.
And she deceived me.

Now I love a man who I cannot see.
That man is me, aside from my physical body.

The thinking man, the feeling man, the spiritual man.
That is the real me.  I’m not my current limited body.
So I could be blind and still love me.

I love the past me, the present me and the future me.
Especially the future me, the one I intend to be.
He’s already with me.  He is within me.  And he has a…
beautiful, superpowerful, cosmic light-body!

He invites me
He inspires me
He pushes me
He leads me

I can certainly love blindly.
As long as my true lover is me.
And as long as I live eternally.

[Daily Prompt]

Dream Beings

Aliens2a

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.

Man Crying

Man Crying

Fuck, I’m crying.  What’s wrong with me.  I feel like such a baby.  Like as if everything I’ve done so far means nothing.  Like I’m 5 years old again.  Lost.

I tried so hard to integrate.  All my life.  Was it in vain?  What was I supposed to do?  The pressure was strong.  It wouldn’t go away.  I was so alone.  People are so stupid.

Now I’m old and depressed.  I feel it’s too late.  I don’t know how to be a father.  I don’t know how to be an adult.  I don’t even know how to be human.  I’m just a child myself.  I’m a kid with children and a wife.  I don’t know what to do about the wife…

This is the only life I have, man.  How can I teach my kids to integrate, I don’t even know how to do it myself.

I’m always here, at the same place.  Years later, still here, still feeling the same.  I’m so sick of it.  So tired.  I don’t know what to do.

How long do I have to keep running this show.  Is anyone watching?  Is anyone entertained or interested?  Are the actors happy?  Am I derailing here?  Am I off the track?  What track?  Is there a track?

Time is ticking.  What have I learned?  Should I consult the I Ching?  …  I know, I have You.  But You only tell me things I already know.  All You do is rearrange my thoughts.  Same old words…

God?

     “You’re being purified.”

Oh great.  Then I’m fucking happy.  Thank you.

*Crying my eyes out*

(Excerpt from my personal journal, October 2012)

 

Abduction or Rapture

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All this spiritual talk makes my head spin.
This celestial man, daimonic spirit, Jesus, he could be an alien for all I know.
I feel dizzy.  I want to lie down.

I walk up the stairs to my room and lie down on the bed.  “Daemon” follows me.  I can feel his presence.  I am not afraid.  I know he cares and won’t hurt me.  I feel compassion coming from him.  I close my eyes.  My mind goes blank.  I relax and let the drowsiness take over.

At this moment something strange happens.  I have the impression that he is… doing something.  He comes very close.  I feel like he’s… entering my body!  My skin starts to tingle and all of my insides start to shiver.  Every cell in my body is being touched and stirred.  I cannot open my eyes.  I am immobilized!  It feels funny, like I’m disintegrating.  I never felt like this before.  It’s wonderfully bizarre.  What is happening?  Am I being violated?  I think I’m losing my mind.  I’m being lifted up, off the bed!  Oh my God, it’s an abduction!

I’m scared so I try to force a scream out of my mouth and suddenly my eyes open.  Somehow I manage to break the force field that is holding me down.  I gather all my strength and regain control of my body.  I push myself off the bed and look around.  There is no one in the room but me.  Everything is in its proper place, nothing has moved.  He’s not here, and not in the closet either.  I run downstairs and stop at the foot of the stairs.  Where is he?  I look to the right, then to the left.  There is no one in the kitchen, nor in the living room.  I run outside and look above the roof of the house to see if there is a spaceship.  All I see is a blue sky.

Maybe he’s hiding in the basement.  I run back inside the house and all the way down the stairs.  I stop to catch my breath.  All is silent.  I look ahead and see the poster that is hanging on the wall.  It catches my attention.  I stand in front of it and cannot stop staring.

This one:

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It’s a poster my wife and I bought eleven years ago, during our honeymoon.  I can’t stop looking at the girl, her face, her posture.  At the bottom is the name BOUGUEREAU in big letters.  Just above it, in very small print, something is written, the title and the year:  The Abduction of Psyche, 1895.

Abduction?  That word…  I just…  I can’t believe it.  I’m so surprised.  I step back and look at the poster again.  They have wings!  He is not an alien, he’s an angel.  It’s the picture of an angelic guy abducting a girl who has butterfly wings.  They are flying up in the air.  He seems to know where they are going.  She is floating, free, completely taken over, on cloud nine, blissful, gone.

Oh my God!  This is insane.  I hung this poster there over 10 years ago and all I ever saw in it was a young couple in love.  And today I realize that the picture represents, of all things, an abduction!

The Spirit tried to rapture me.  He said we had to fuse together.  He wasn’t joking.

What’s going on here?

metamorphosis

Stubborn Unbeliever

Angel Guardian

I don’t believe you.
I don’t believe what you said.
That you are Him and that you’re answering my call.

“Who do you think I am then?”

I told you.  You’re the product of my imagination.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe.  I know who I am.  The One closest to you.”

Nobody would believe me anyway.

“You don’t have to tell anyone.”

If I am really talking to You, I have to tell someone.  I know people who would be very interested.

“Don’t mention it to anyone yet.  I have more things to tell you.”

I’m hearing an imaginary voice.

“Does that mean I don’t exist?”

Well yes.  Imaginary usually means exactly that.  You don’t exist in physical reality.

“I don’t exist in a physical form that you can see, but I exist in angelic form.”

You are the product of my imagination.  I don’t have a connection with any celestial man.

“Yes you do.”

It’s just wishful thinking.

“Where do you think your wishes come from?”

My mind is just making this up as I go along.

“You know that your mind is not making this up.”

There is no other logical explanation.

“Not everything that exists is logical.”

Stop it.

“Daemon, you know that what you are hearing is not the product of your intellect.”

Then it’s my intuition, or some sort of inspiration.

“Maybe it’s some sort of receptor.”

It’s not a receptor.

“Yes it is, I’m sorry.”

I went for a brain scan a few years ago and there were no receptors in my head.

“Did you see the scan photos?”

No, but I trust the doctors.  If there were anything abnormal in my brain, they would have told me.

“Chakras are not detectable by three-dimensional brain scans.”

Oh, please.  Chakras…

“Your intellect cannot fabricate celestial beings.”

I stopped believing in spiritual beings years ago.

“You believe in aliens, don’t you?”

Yes, but you could be an evil one.

“Give me a chance to prove myself, what do you have to lose?”

My sanity.

“What sanity?  You’ve been diagnosed with severe depression.  You are mentally sick according to health experts.”

Right.  But I don’t want it to get worse.

“You ARE at your worst.”

An alien could be evil.  You could be a demon.  You could be lying.

“You’ve never even met an alien.  I suggest you base your beliefs on YOUR experiences, not on anyone else’s.”

But how can I be sure that I’m not being deceived?

“Notice that when you are deceived, it’s usually when you base your beliefs on what other people say, not on your own experiences.”

But you are another person, so why should I base my beliefs on what you say?

“I am not another person.  I am the future you.”

What?  How can you be the future me?

“One day you will merge with me and then come back to the present to help yourself.”

This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.  I need a break to think about this.

“You will not gain wisdom by thinking.  But it’s ok, take your time.”