If victories leave you feeling hallow, then you are waging the wrong war.
Like a lost forlorn child stood screaming into the dark, in order to try to scare the wolf from the door.
Why don’t you come on back inside - with the rest of us, it’s warm -
Don’t cast your mind into realms of projection - for your fears like bees on honey they’ll swarm.
Epiphany? More like I needed a lobotomy, but I DID always know that there was something that was wrong with me.
Scared myself half to death with an illness that comes in a three. Ali said it best - ‘the hands can’t hit what the eyes can’t see’ -
So maybe you can tell me how to destroy an enemy - that lives in my mind and sends shots from on high like The Vietcong sat up in trees.
Left bewildered and demoralised by a disease that’s baffling and cunning, get back on the hamster wheel son, No one told you not to keep on running.
Self sabotage - don’t make me laugh, I went in like The Beastie Boys and then I went in fucking hard.
20 year hard labour - not one to be left beaten, resilient for sure, kept on hammering for years on the same old door.
Had no idea that in reality there was something deep down that I was suffering with - I just thought I was alien ....from the rest of all you kids.
I know now today - I have a fear based malady, an obsessive type of mind and a cocaine allergy - If I put one in, there’s no telling where’s it’s taking me, snaking thru psychosis on a relapse tragedy -
Well - that was then and this is now - coming up fast on a year - Only God knows how -
I can’t believe the miracles that have happened so far, but I’ve got a long way to go in order to outweigh the past -
I tell you what tho, these days, most days - I live most happily, sitting on a secret that never would could or should have been…
The secret to my change is a conscious connection with something inside of me, hitching a ride alongside a power - inside a Universal melody.
Thank God above for the love that lives inside of me, the hope that I’ve got and the courage to be what i’m gonna be - Like a rat free from a maze, I’m amazed by the change in me and thank God every day for the grace that he gave to me.
Woe betide, the ties that bind,
Come back later, sign says 'Occupied'.
Can’t sit still with an errant mind, thoughts always blown up war torn, terrified.
Kid in the corner. Bread and water. Threatened with the naughty boys home til you got your act in order…
Howmi sposed to flourish when i’m full of fear, occams razor, far more logical Dr Spock, that I would disappear …
Caved into myself like a tragic soul landslide, trapped on the inside, looking from the outside.
A reflection of myself, that seems so near ‘ but a million lifetimes between us - and a thousand rivers of tears.
Stood up from the floor more times that I care to remember, out fixing roofs in the snow with a broken hand in late October/November, on the road to redemption now by way of a higher power - every day my soul roars that little bit louder -
Born into a prison that we call a mind, no wonder people out here doing murder suicides, and you say that mental health is at an all time high, hitting insta with pics of your tits for likes and you wonder why.
Baby in a pram but your phones more fancy, dead on the inside everythings dandy, slave to the wage, but your old mans randy, dipping into the housekeep for gear and into your little cousin Mandy, damn son - that's family....
A life less ordinary, is ordinary still, tell the old man that you want kids but secretly still taking the pill, stuck in a shit job, yeah I know how you feel, tough times and tough measures, when the realness gets real..
Lack of hope killed more dreams than Faith ever did, but fear got you trapped for the sake of the kids, when the truth is you wish that they weren’t even his, as the darkness crashes down on top like a dustbin lid.
We should all be on our knees praying for our souls, but I think that’s something that we all already know, We always reap what we always sow... or our dreams will evaporate like pissholes in the snow.
Does it get easier with every orgasm you fake or are a man’s best treasures the mistakes he makes, just close your eyes and jump, you never know you might just make it - to the other side where the other half of yourself is waiting.
Razor edge and all that.
I often ponder death. The nature of a soul leaving a body cannot be a pleasant one - I wonder does the consciousness understand the process - and does it acclimatise to it’s new surroundings instantly.
If so, I wonder if you were there with me when I heard the news -
I was on my way into work when my world stopped and they told me that they could not find your heartbeat at the Drs.
Have you ever heard the expression - ‘I could feel the blood rush in my ears’ - imagine any film depiction of someone receiving Earth shattering news and the world around them fading into a blurred landscape of background noise and activity as your lead character haphazardly stumbles and staggers onwards in a daze - and that is how I remember time standing still whilst still being moved thru it.
Something happened to the mainframe that day and part of the system shut down to protect itself I would imagine.
I left the train at Stratford - crossed the platform to wait for the train head back to Billericay and then onto the hospital - where they had taken your mum - I remember obsessively fiddling with and rolling my grandads rosary beads thru my fingers and praying that the inevitable hadn’t happened when every fibre of my being already knew you had died. I could feel it in my soul.
I tell myself that there was a week to go with the pregnancy, I think that is right - the truth is that I remember very little, if nothing. I don’t remember who even spoke to me on the phone that morning, whether it was the Dr or your Mum. I vividly remember praying and praying and praying - those rosary beads - I tell myself I had no notion of God those days - so then why did I insist on wearing them and how come I remember feeling hateful at ‘it’ for forsaking me that day?
The paradoxical nature of time will forever puzzle me - How can a moment can seem to stand still, yet in hindsight be nothing more than the blink of an eye.
Shards and fragments of time, like glass, pierce memories in my mind. An ultrasound, a solemn look, the primal scream of a woman whose dream had just died - that sound still chills my bones.
The feeling of being paralysed with helplessness and hopelessness - as waves of grief crash upon your plans and they dissolve like castles made of sand.
They asked if I wanted to hold him - to this day I am not sure if that was a mistake. They took photos. How do you pose for a photo with your dead son in your arms?
With the benefit of hindsight - I suppose that in itself was Gods Will - One thought crystalised in my mind during those moments. That was not my son in my arms, because there was no life in that tiny body. There was no spirit there. That body was an empty vessel.
I have always been a sensitive boy. My conception of The Spirit World is a lot more developed than others and for that I will always be grateful.
As a child my mum would sit in ‘circle’ with her clairvoyant friends round our house, or I would come home from school and she would be listening to whale songs or meditating.
I had no problem in understanding that Harry was not here with us, but rather ‘over there’ …
Understanding is one thing. Accepting is quite another.
I remember picking a suit for the funeral, I remember choosing the songs, I remember holding Harrys coffin on my shoulder and walking down the centre of the pews in the crematorium and I remember the absurdity of being scared of dropping that coffin in front of the eyes that were watching me.
I remember waking up every single morning and having the slight glimmer of hope that it had all been a nightmare - only for the trauma to wash over me again and again and again. The feeling of nausea and grief coming in waves.
When I was a kid, my mum used to say to me that the worst thing you can do is bottle up your feelings, but this is me - and so I became an expert at bottling up my feelings - in fact, I got so good at them, I could only feel one in the end. A deep rooted and seething anger.
I’m not a violent man, I am more likely to run in the opposite direction truth be told, but my anger was a bubbling undercurrent. It was the propeller in the water that I used to drive myself forward in life without that, I am sure I would be dead.
I never processed that, and I never processed any of the other elements of grief that even up until last year were still destroying my soul and preventing me from participating in life.
Towards the back end of last year my life was in such a state of complete carnage I was ready to throw in the towel. My coping mechanisms were absolutely fucked and I was living in a delusional state of denial - pretending that I was handling everything when in fact it was killing me.
I reached the point where I was on my knees and willing to listen.
It has been 284 days since I last took cocaine - 9.36 months.
During that time I have been thru a process - it has taught me many priceless things. It has taught me that I am a person and like it or not, I did and do have feelings. I found a man armed with the facts who took me through the big book of AA and thru the 12 steps.
Step 4 taught me who I was and who I would like to be.
The rest of the steps lead me back to God.
This is something that always sticks with me - ‘If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.
This year I have a choice.
I can let my grief overcome me once again - or I can try something new, so that is what I am doing. This is me processing the things that I have been thru - they are my attempt to express myself and to hopefully connect with other people.
My beliefs are this - the book states that deep down inside each man woman and child is the very notion of God. My experience and my feelings tell me that. I have always felt it. It may have been clouded, dampened, obscured by rage and hatred and misunderstanding - but it is there and always has been.
My journey has been one of seeking - and I will continue to ask for answers until the day that my soul departs from my body -
I did not lose a son. I lost an idea. I lost my grip on life and on my ability to control it - and I was forced to confront the essence of life and death.
Am I scared of dying? No.
I never got to hold Harry in my arms, but he looks over my shoulder - and I can feel him.
Just like I felt his absence when I held him, I feel his presence when I cannot. Life is indeed a paradox.
Is he my son? No. His soul is much wiser than mine and he is teaching me. I have nothing to teach him.
I am part human - and so I am allowed to grieve, I am allowed to be sad, I am allowed to crave the closeness that I will never physically feel.
My beliefs are my beliefs and I would never expect others to feel them - but my understanding is that one day I will get to go back home - and when I do - if I can give my children here on Earth even half the feeling of a comforting presence from ‘over there’ - then I will be grateful to God.
Emotional pain is an essential ingredient in growth. It doesn’t make it pleasant - in fact for me it feels disgusting - but for the first time in as long as I can remember, I am trying to express how I feel, communicate with the people I love to help them understand my behaviour and I am trying to help other people.
Life is transient, acceptance is the end of all suffering and The rest is Gods Will.
Am I a better man today than I was 10 years ago? Infinitely.
I love you H.
This is my attempt to recall a conversation I had last week that clearly, if I’m writing about it a week later, must have had an impact on me.
The conversation took place between me and a chap who is getting on in years. Wisdom comes in many forms and I believe that God works thru people, a friend of mine taught me that. Anyhoots - the point being is that when this man decided to explain a few things to me, I decided to listen, he has had a colourful life to say the least and his east ends roots, cheeky charm and the fact he shares a name with my son meant that I was happy to listen.
If you want to read it, given that the written word lacks context, you can imagine a well fed man, comfortable in his own skin and with a smart side part still evident in his ever receding hair… the paradoxical nature of how the gruffness in his voice is actually comforting is ever present.
‘Bob, if I’d have scored the winning goal in the FA cup final for West Ham, been transferred to Real Madrid and scored a hat trick in the Champions League final, I’d have wanted to be a boxer’ - I laugh out loud, cos that’s me. ‘You know what I mean dont’cha?’ …
Harry points a biscuit at me.
‘...Do you know what a ‘seared conscience’ is Bob…?
‘No H, I’ve read a few bits and pieces but I must admit i’ve never heard of it’ -
‘Well i’ll tell ya … when I was a kid, I was starving and I went into the sweet shop and I made a conscious decision. I was going to steal a Mars bar. I was petrified, I was nervous, dry mouth, thought I’d be caught, but I made it out of there with the Mars bar’.....
‘The next day, the same thing happened….and the same thing happened, until I think I’d nicked a Mars every day for the next 3 weeks…. On the 20th or the 21st Day I walked in, and he hadn’t restocked the shelves… and do you know what I remember thinking to myself …. ‘Where the fuck are MY Mars bars’ …. (We both laughed our heads off) …’Where the fuck has this cunt put MY mars bars ….ahahaha….’ - ‘I was indignant’ - Now do you understand what a seared conscience is?’ - ‘That’s what most of us walk around with’.
I am going to show you something that will save you thousands in therapy, I have been to see this person, that person, everyone you could imagine… and here is the key to it all. Give me a pen and a paper ….’
I hand Harry the pen and paper and the begins to draw a tree…. As it branches off, he writes ‘Failure’... another branch ‘Anger’ …. Another branch ‘Sadness’ - above that he writes ‘Anxiety - it all starts with a thought’ - He says see that tree? Those negative thoughts…. They are all branches off the same tree, whether they are sad thought, thoughts of a time where you feel you failed, another time, when you felt you were disappointed, they are all branches of the same tree, and if you cut those branches back, they will only grow again.
As you travel down the tree (he draws the bark) - you see here ‘fear’ - and below that the ultimate fear ‘death’ - you would think that those thought stems from one of those two - but they don’t …..
Below that… and the very root of all of it… is this word….
That for you is the root cause of all of your fears. The fear of being rejected… whilst you carry that around with you, all the therapy sessions in the world won’t get to the root cause of the problem….’
Anyone who knows your boy knows that Bobzee has Daddy issues, so my mind went there - and I started crying….
Harry then did this… he said ‘Bob… watch… ‘ and again he wrote down the word ‘Rejection’ this time vertically down the page …. He then said ‘Blame yourself for writing that’....and I laughed … and he said ‘No ...seriously…. Try to attach the blame towards yourself for writing that’ … and I looked puzzled and said ‘I can’t’ - and he said…. ‘So how can you ever blame yourself for somebody else rejecting you?’ - ‘it has or never had anything to do with you’.
…. That analogy for some reason made a lot of sense to me, perhaps because it was so literal.
H went on…. ‘You have to love yourself now…. You have to know that you as you are right now are enough. It’s not about wishing for something, or getting somewhere, or achieving something because when you get to that moment - you’ll only be wishing it away for the next one….that’s the very nature of that thinking’.
He said ‘Bob, I have done some things in my life, I’d had money, I’ve lost money, I’ve done some terrible things and I have done some good things…. But do you know what I have gotten the most pleasure out of lately?
I have a Koi pond at the end of my garden and I go and sit down there on my own ….it’s so peaceful.
I was looking on the internet, because for the life of me I could not get the bottom ones to grow as big as the ones on top, I tried numerous things, dried crickets, you name it…. until I stumbled upon what worked for me…. I took it all onboard, tried to apply it, found what worked for me… it took patience but I nurtured them and I watched them grow….
There is nothing of value to be sought in the material world…. It’s all smoke and mirrors….
Do you know why I love that sitting and looking at that pond Bob? Because it has more of me in it than most things I have done in life’
Something to think about maybe.
I am 4 years younger than my #sister but she #raised me really.
Imagine the #sacrifice || Having to negate your own #childhood and the journey from little girl into grown woman in order to take care of a #hyperactive mouthy little shit who can’t sit still for five mins. A Tasmanian devil of a child who spins around like a hurricane of sheer bastardness, who spits on your friends; tells the boys you fancy to fuck off, a child who will wilfully look you dead in the eye as he shakes up a can of fizzy drink and then sprays it all over the walls, carpet and duvet of one of your childhood crushes ~ whilst the lad stands there looking on in furious impotence because he knows that as much as he wants to beat me... he can’t do shit ~ I remember one time when off my tits on E numbers ~ I suddenly came back to my senses ~ cos I was being forcibly collared by a furious red faced man who was incandescent with rage because I had just been jumping up and down on the bonnet of his car in some mad haze of blind over excitement and hyperactivity cos I got carried away watching the older lads play football.
My poor poor Sister ~ it must have been like having to keep an eye on #tigger ~ so you could easily forgive my sis if she still resented me to this day ... but quite the opposite. We are best mates.
Our #family is not one that you would ever consider to be #typical or traditional I don’t suppose.
The cast of men in mine are either violent, lawless and/or batshit crazy. The dynamics between the men and the women were always destined to be screwed up because of the generation they were born into. My Nan didn’t have a fucking clue bless her... but then I suppose back then no one really did. I’m sure her life was probably dogshit in comparison to her children’s ~ just like my life must seem like a breeze compared to what my mum had to go thru.
The result of my Nans shortcomings as a parent was that my Mum had to assume the traditionally Male role of being the Head of The Family ~ and from a very young age too and so she was forced to match the masculine energy of the numerous men she had to hand out a beating to over the years on account of her little brothers and had to out Alpha and win the respect of all of the men that she worked with after she went into business in a male dominated environment in order to be able to find the money to be able to provide for them all.
So yeah, in terms of what you might consider to be a ‘typical’ family dynamic ~ where the traditional roles of men and women are clearly defined, straight forward and passed down to the kids by the generation that proceeds them.. by the time things reached my Mum, the relationships in my family were already well fucked up, complex and damaging.
As far as my story goes thus far ~ It is not ideal for a #sensitive boy to be born into a rough area like #eastlondon or to be raised in an environment that lacks even one remotely suitable (or even just sane) #male #rolemodel ~
In terms of my #emotional development it was pretty disastrous up until now to be honest.
The #gender lines have always been blurred, reversed or incomprehensible to me.
When you don’t have any #masculine influences or any men to be able to look up to as a little boy ~ it is impossible to learn how to become a man... or even realise that you need to.
The requirement for things like #sacrifice #responsibility #strength #accountability handling #pressure #assertiveness being able to #provide and the natural progression towards becoming the #patriarch at the head of the table are not apparent to a little boy when those attributes and roles are assigned to and performed by #women ~ because women just quietly get on with it... they shield you from their woes and go about their business with minimal fuss.
The upshot is that the little boy grows up in a dream world where he doesn’t even realise that someone is shouldering the responsibility for all of that shit. Or that over time ~ ideally ~ he should have grown into a position where he was capable of taking over that role ~ if he wanted to be able to take care of the #people he loves and be able to repay the debt of #gratitude he owes to those who did the same for him.
You might call it #peterpan syndrome ~
The product is an emotionally stunted man-child nonchalantly walking about with a (probably infuriating) carefree attitude and his head stuck in the clouds (or firmly up his arse) ~
I tell you what then... given that I am only now becoming aware of the fact that I need to fucking grow up somewhat... I shall get onto that post haste...
Bear with me tho... I have the distinct impression that finally having to leave Neverland is gonna be an almighty kick in the bollocks. Initially at least... but don’t sweat it broi’ll get there.x
Wrote a poem - it’s about disconnection and disaffected people and that ‘yearning‘ that we feel.
It’s called: Please mind the gap ... (the hole in your soul)... it goes...
‘Please mind the gap, and all the rest of that crap.
Still trapped travelling thru tubes with the rest of the rats.
Living for the weekends, when they ain’t even all that...
Another sesh, another mess - visions of screwed up wraps...
Try to bend Life to our will, as the boneyard beckons...
Like a 30 yard freekick from the right boot of Beckham ...
We ain’t got the trajectory for curves like that... but whatever you do... please ... mind the gap.
Don’t mention God tho ~ Nietzsche said he was dead... so we try to start a revolution from our beds...
Definitely, maybe... whispered with regret... but I think we need a little time to wake up, wake up instead’
#modernlife #philosophy #football #music #recovery
Here is an example I want to set because I believe in being honest on social media ~ especially in a time full of such vacuous bullshit...
I felt proper down earlier this week ~ and there still appears to be a stigma surrounding men talking about their mental health... So fuck it, let’s talk about it. 👍🏻
Suicide takes more bright stars for the night sky than most other things when it comes to young men. It is fucking ravenous.
Most people are far too busy pretending to be someone else on social media ~ and so it becomes harder and harder to let the world see us as being vulnerable or sensitive... that’s such bollocks.
Being silent and insulating yourself will never end well.
I appreciate that it is fucking massively difficult to speak out if you are struggling ~ easy to isolate yourself... but here is a positive example of asking for help.
See above ~ This is a conversation with a really close pal of mine...
After this conversation ~ I went over the park with my niece for a few hours ~ and afterwards my entire thinking was flipped and my mood was shifted...
I have cried and cried with my family this week and we have all sat and talked... until the point were it have become cathartic and I finally feel better after letting it all out ~ I am lucky to have such people in my life... I do know this.
You can’t bottle it all up tho ~ it becomes too much...
There is no shame in asking for help ~ being vulnerable doesn’t mean being ‘weak’...
There is always more strength in numbers.
If you are struggling ~ just speak up.
Only good can come from communicating.
I feel massively grateful to everyone who has helped me this week ~ and there have been loads of ya.
I love you all.
If anyone needs someone to speak to ~ hit me up you slags. 😊
Karma compels me to pay it forward ~ so you’d be doing me a favour.
Big ups people. 👍🏻✌🏻💕
Fuck Facebook and Instagram and their current rein of tyranny against humanity ~ let’s pull them both fucking down from the inside. Keep it real. 🙏🏻
Imagine if we all just discovered one day that our soul purposes here was to help and be as supportive as possible towards other people?
As simple as that? 🤯
On Tuesday I went back to ‘Recovery’ ~ and 12 step meetings ... purely because without a conscious programme, my thinking is just completely fucked tbh.
It has nothing to do with drugs, drink, gambling or anything else ~ addiction is a disease that centres in the mind and affects someone’s thinking first and foremost.
Anyways ~ since Tues, I have felt brand new and my connection with my own ‘Higher Power’ has got even deeper.
I just found this on my phone whilst having a clear out ~ and think that might be the ‘Big Man’ telling me to share.
Anyways ~ if you are struggling with an addiction and ‘umming’ and ‘ahhing’ about working a programme or you have a family member who has addiction issues that you yourself don’t or can’t understand ~ have a little read - I’m hoping it might help. 🤷🏻♂️👍🏻
Have a good day. ✌🏻💕💕💕💕🙏🏻🙌🏻
What an affliction. To have been born with. To have to try so hard to mask and hide.
A life of solitude ~ exiled to walk amongst strangers, a breed apart. Always knowing and always feeling different. Never quite knowing how or why?
Cursed to live each moment with an unquenchable thirst. The feelings of never being satisfied and of always wanting more.
100 is not enough, and yet 1 is far too many.
The real kicker for me? I never choose this life. I never agreed to sign up to be an addict. It’s a fucking horrible, lonely, fearful, frightening experience.
Like a forlorn child lost amongst the midst of all the noise and the chaos ~ I found my way to cope. You did too.
We are a resourceful bunch.
The medication we prescribe ourselves only ever delivers a cure to the racing mind and the feelings anxiety for a time.
We have to up the dosage, that doesn’t work.
They call it a progressive illness ~ and it is.
Left unchecked or worse still, tried to control ~ and it will take you once again.
Step 1 ~ we admitted we were powerless. Well, my life has been wildly fucking unmanageable.
My reality was a joke, bills after bills, after speeding ticket, after demand, after arrest warrant came through my letter box ~ a consequence and proof that left to my own devices ~ I cannot maintain a normal and stress free existence. The evidence is there. I cannot do it. I have to give my control over. When I can.
... this disease will try to kill you. It will turn you insane and will try to convince you that the only light at the end of the tunnel comes via your own hands. It will break you down.
It is then ~ on our knees that we become humble ~ and teachable. ‘The gift of desperation’ ...
Listen to the person with more experience than you.
Stop lying to yourself. You can’t get it under control ~ you never have and you never will.
Listen to someone else. Tell someone how much pain you are in, tell someone else that you are ready to be helped.
No, none of us choose to be addicts, but we can choose how we react to that fact.
Denying it will cause it to grow. Trust me on that.
Treat it like an illness and you can manage it.
We are addicts because we crave more from life. From The Universe.
We have always craved more from other people that we never received ~ but how about helping someone else first?
Addiction centres in the mind. It attaches to the selfish amongst us, the lonely and introverted, the sensitive and caring. The hurt.
It grows when we isolate ~ when we get hurt but don’t cry and when we feel scared and resentful.
Oh the resentments will try to kill me. Unless I get rid of them as soon as I give birth to them.
I can’t manage my thoughts, not without talking about them, I don’t even realise they exist.
And so I HAVE to talk about them.
Fellowship brings you trust and safety. Comfort and faith. You can talk about it now. Whatever it is.
By relinquishing yourself of the burden of self - of living and existing inside your own head, speak to other people... listen to what they have got going on in their lives, see what advice you could offer them.
To be involved with helping someone else, means you are not fixating on yourself.
Whenever I have genuinely applied the principles I have learnt from recovery into my life ~ it never takes long for most of the broken pieces to slot back into place ~ and the missing pieces that didn’t - well those scars just add character.
You are never alone. You are not crazy. You are not by yourself.
There are fucking MILLIONS of us just like one another ~ and we can all help each other.
Don’t let your ego keep telling you lies.
Forgive yourself for all of it.
You are perfect just as you are.
You are loved. Xx
As he stared into the abyss - an eerie sense of calm washed over him.
Dan sat back, satisfied that this time, he had really gone and done it.
For someone with such an unquenchable thirst for self-destruction and to be fair, a rather admirable propensity and aptitude for it, it was rather rare for Dan to ever feel satisfied...
Experience had been kind to him in the past but as a consequence of that kindness, it had also helped him to forge the unhealthy delusion that, regardless of how selfish, spoilt, spiteful or sociopathic he had behaved towards others and possibly even more worryingly towards himself up until now, he had always ... somehow ... still managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
On the few occasions that he had not managed to redeem himself, it was of course, not his fault. There would always be a few arseholes along the way who didn't 'get' him, or who were themselves entirely to blame for the fact that his illuminating presence no longer graced their lives.
For the most part though, every time he had hammered another nail into the fence, Dan had been able to wrench it back out again afterwards - of course, some nails took more wrenching than others, depending on how hard he had hammered them in, in the first place or how stubborn that particular part of the fence was - but what Dan had always failed to take note of was the fact that even when he had managed to pull the nail out, despite the fence once again appearing to have a smooth surface from a distance, closer inspection would reveal that it was absolutely littered with holes and further damage that had not and that could not ever be repaired.
Dan did not care for details though. Inspection and introspection either for that matter had never been his strong suit.
.. and so it was under this illusionary veil of inconsequential impunity, that Dan would work even harder to destroy absolutely anything good or positive that would occasionally occur naturally in his Life ... for he would be damned if he was going to let anyone or anything else come along and steal what fleeting happiness he might have felt.
No, that was a privilege reserved exclusively for Dan - and for Dan alone.
Plus, history had shown that everyone leaves eventually - and even those that seemed determined enough in the beginning - if you pushed hard enough and they did choose to leave ...well then they were no good in the first place - and anyways no matter how hard he had tried in the past - Dan had never quite managed to destroy things entirely, until now anyways.
So it was with an unfamiliar - albeit unsettling - sense of relief or perhaps perverse pride that Dan now found himself where he did - waiting for the attendant to return with the box marked 'Lost and Found' for him to rummage through - yet whilst most people would be hoping to find a misplaced umbrella or a pair of gloves left in haste whilst the mind was preoccupied with other more pressing concerns, Dan hoped to find something a little more tangible, something a little more valuable that he was sure once belonged to him. His soul...because make no mistake, Dan was absolutely completely lost.
Milestones, achievements, relationships, material possessions, jobs, sex, validation, people, money, even drugs.. nothing had ever really resonated with Dan. Though drugs came the closest.
He had clung to that method of temporary relief the most tightly and for the longest period of time. There he had shown an admirable and determined level of consistency that had always been distinctly lacking throughout the rest of his Life. You could always count on drugs. You were never held to account for the way that you treated drugs, and you had no responsibility to them, you never had to try harder to be a better person and you were not required to try to educate them on how to be, despite having no fucking clue yourself, you could be as miserable as you liked and the drugs would never get up and walk out. Though to his eternal chagrin, they too had fucked him over in the end, by failing to do their job and eventually no longer medicating him against the rest of the World and ceasing to protect him against his own mind. Yep. More proof positive that you couldn't trust or rely on anyone or anything.
Not once, despite being a bright person and maybe even a capable one too had Dan ever felt satisfied by anything. He could not recall ever feeling contented or peaceful. Failures had always felt more like home than any successes had - and despite being most comfortable when he was miserable, even in moments of abject despair Dan had never once felt like he was supposed to have been born, or that he had a right to enjoy Life... and if you cannot find any happiness in misery then you know you are in real trouble.
He could never quite put his finger on it, perhaps it was a long suppressed traumatic experience from childhood that he could no longer recall, perhaps he was just doomed from the outset during this lifetime, he would never know - but for as long as he had been consciously aware of his own existence Dan had always been scared - though nothing is ever simple and so he was not aware that this was the case.. to him, the way he felt naturally was more akin to a feeling best described as 'perennially anxious' ... though he had no outwardly obvious reason to feel that way or a comparable to help him realise that that was how he felt.
What he did know was that he felt most comfortable when things were about to, or had just imploded. That was his most natural state. He was not used to feeling happy. Whenever it raised it's ugly head, it was inevitably accompanied by a torrid feeling of impending doom and the sense that he should not get used to a feeling that was certain to be entirely short lived and destined to end in more pain when it eventually fucked off again... which it would, because it always had. People had always left, circumstances had always changed, happiness had always been fleeting.
Dan was not a stupid man though, and had always sought a buffer for his problems. He would choose a partner more fucked up than he, and then when he could no longer fixate on fixing that person, he would enjoy a period of solidarity with them, whereby they would both acknowledge that they were as fucked up as each other, and would fall into co-dependency lying to each other and clinging onto the hope that together, they would at least combine to make one normal person. When that failed, he would move onto the next person without pausing for breath, or the next destination, the next job or the next fad .. he is nothing if not determined, and you will not have seen true stubbornness unless you had seen Dan avoid his problems.
Like we said before, he had an almost supernatural ability to bring back to life most situations that he had wilfully destroyed - and so, because he had never had to suffer any real consequences and because he had always managed to cling on to some semblance of what appeared to be 'normality', Dan was never really forced to look in the mirror or confront the fact that he was completely and utterly lost at sea.
Fuck, if he had somehow managed to snake his way around it yet again - no doubt he would still be in denial. It's nice there. Warm, and comforting. Like listening to the wind and rain outside, whilst you are tucked up in bed, and it requires zero effort too. Which is always nice.
Still, that was not his reality - not this time, and in the absence of everything - in the absence of a single emotional connection (both real or imagined), of any gainful employment, a place to call home, money, in the absence of someone, anyone at all left to blame, in the absence of any more well-intentioned hopes for the future and perhaps the cruellest of them all, in the absence of enough courage to at least be a man and kill himself - Dan found himself in this new, rather uncomfortable and perilous position.
He had no alternative but to look at himself, and inside of himself - perhaps for the very first time.
The relief he felt at finally having managed to complete the enviable task of totally and utterly trashing his life up was short-lived and soon paved the way for a new realisation. Now he had the unenviable task of having to rebuild it.
But where to begin?
He did not have the faintest idea of where he was or how he had managed to get there, but he came to realise that he was in a room that had a sign marked 'Lost Property' on the door when he had walked through it ...the obvious ethereal nature and quality of his surroundings were not lost on him, and so he was at least certain that it must be a dream or part of a meditation - but regardless - here he was, and here, he knew ... was where he was supposed to be.
He was roused from his pondering and his attention brought back to the present, by the return of the attendant who carried with him a sizeable box marked 'Lost and Found' ... as it was laid on the counter, Dan was vaguely aware of the hopefulness in the tone of the voice that said 'Here we are.. I hope that you find what it is that you are looking for... you wouldn't believe some of the things that people forget to remember when they are in a rush' ... but Bert paid no heed.
Already he was completely enveloped in the task at hand... his entire focus was on searching inside this otherwise unremarkable looking cardboard box for something that he had no idea he had been searching for but that had somehow also managed to allude him his entire life - and he knew intuitively that here was where he would find it ... and as he lifted up and removed a photograph of his absent Father, as he pushed aside memories of his childhood, as he sifted through the pain and awkwardness of his adolescence and removed the articles of hurt that he had suffered in the past, he could feel that he was edging closer to the truth ... with the box near empty, Dans pace slowed and he braced himself for the revelation he was now desperate to find... and there at the bottom of the box was a perfectly hand-written note... it said ..
'There is nothing that cannot be undone, there are no mistakes and no accidents, what has been has gone and what will be will always be... stop searching for the Truth, when you know and have always known - that I have a plan for you ... there is but one question ....
‘Given it all, given everything I have put in your path ... given that I have lead you here to this place, at this time and in this moment right now, there is nothing but one question you need to ask yourself. I promise you that I have a plan for you.... but ....do you trust me?’
Dan cried for longer than he could ever remember crying for before. The tears filled his eyes to such an extent that he had no recollection of the journey home.
Once there, he continued crying. Not tears of pain or grief or of sorrow - he was crying tears of joy ... and as he laid his head on the pillow to sleep that night, he felt a freedom and a happiness that he had never experienced before.
He cried tears of relief, because for the first time in his life, he felt certain that he was loved, he realised that he always had been loved and he knew that without conditions or expectations - he would always be loved.
He cried not because he had found what he was looking for, but because he finally understood that he had never been lost in the first place.
Is it not true that in schools the element of competition already presents itself between students? How shit is that?
What was my result? What was my grade? How did I compare to everyone else? That kind of thinking should not be encouraged.
Separation clearly exists and is entrenched in a system that actively promotes it.
We are taught even as children that we are all separate from each other ~ and must compete against one another.
It’s complete bollocks.
For those that experience anxiety in a race to be considered ‘the best’ ~ so then resentment or a sense of ‘less than’ must permeate the minds of those children who didn’t ‘score’ as well... and so the dynamics of power are already being built, whilst confidence and self-esteem are already being destroyed.
If the idea of separation was not being fostered within schools - would it not be an idea to have those children who demonstrated that they understood the lesson better to work with those children who didn’t? ~
Is it just me or would it not make sense to have children learn the importance of developing a level of understanding between themselves ~ and to learn from an early age the principle of how best they could (and should) all work together as part of a community - to improve the conditions of the ‘whole’ and for the many - rather than learn how to celebrate individual ‘success’ or fear ‘individual’ recriminations?
If we want a better future for Humanity ~ then forget adults, we are already far too fucked, no empathy, no compassion, far too selfish.
In order to affect future change, we have to implement systems to teach people whilst they are children the kind of principles that will make them more loving and caring adults.
If children were taught the philosophy of community and ‘oneness’ ~ and had the idea of how we should all work together to share our skills, talents and material possessions with one another ~ then it would be obvious in the future that there is no such thing as scarcity and there is no lack of anything else we might need.
There is more than enough to go around ~ the problem is that we are all taught that we are in direct competition with one another... and it’s a load of complete and utter bollocks.
What is really terrifying is that by doing what we have always done, we have learned how to fear and hate each other, to steal, rob and kill for the things we do not have, and have utterly raped and pillaged our resources, environment and our home.
Separation is a myth and a devasting lie designed by those in charge to divide and conquer the masses.
Yet whilst all of that is clear - fuck all seems to be being done to change it?
Anyone would think that the powers that be are happy with things the way they are? What about the rest of us tho?
Schools currently teach children absolutely nothing of value. Nothing at all.
Change is needed from the floorboards up.
I love that picture below - me and my Mum.
The fear on my face. So genuine.
My Mum, affording herself a little smile.
What she knows and what I don’t ~ is that I am safe. She’s got me. She knows that what I am feeling is irrational.
She knows that her child is scared - but she also knows that it is temporary and that unless I go thru that fear, and meet it head on - I won’t realise just how irrational I was being.
What a fucking predicament for a kid to have to face. Far from easy for an adult too.
That picture of me and my mum- isn’t that just the perfect analogy of all of the fears that we have to go thru in Life?
It’s not so much a case of ‘sink or swim’ in that pic cos i’ve got the ol fucking arm bands on ... and my mums hands around me but the fact remains that in Life - whether you want to or not, you ARE getting chucked in the pool.
It’s only after being thrown in that you have to either figure out how to swim ... or ... just not be able to.
The difference is that in reality, if you can’t figure out how to adapt, or learn, or progress - whatever - rather than sink to the bottom and drown - the consequence is that you just keep having to go thru the same old shit, day in, day out, month on month, year on year - and who really wants that? That’s not living, it’s treading water.
I think the problem is that with most issues we encounter that scare us or make us feel frightened are often situations that defeat us purely on the basis of how fearful we are ~ before we even confront them.
There was a time when Manchester United were so dominant, opposing teams would concede defeat before the first whistle. Most boxing matches are won or lost before the bell even rings.
I think it was Henry Ford who said ‘Whether you think you can or can’t - you’re right‘.
The only reason we would ever think that we couldn’t do something is fear. That is the ONLY reason.
The reality is, if at some point as a baby, we somehow managed to learn how to walk and fucking talk, then i’m sure we can pretty much learn to do most things.
The problem is the level of expectation and fear we place upon ourselves.
Fear of failing to meet our own expectations, fear of fucking up, fear of embarrassing ourselves, fear of what other people will think, fear of getting hurt - all of those things don’t alter the fact that sooner or later - whether you are ready or not - Life WILL chuck you in the fucking swimming pool.
I think these couple of things are worth remembering -
1/ The sooner I accept that it’s normal for me to feel scared, the sooner I can accept that I have two choices. Sink or swim. Simple as that. Learn or stagnate.
The quicker I put my fears into context, the sooner I can get myself and my shit prepared, then I have the time to go for some swimming lessons, or at the very least grab my fucking armbands.
Without that extra time to prepare, my task is made 100 times more difficult.
The fear of something is not going to leave me...it will be nipping at me right up until the point where it becomes a side issue and i’m actually far too preoccupied with actually having to do the thing I was shit scared of doing to notice it anyway.
2/ We are all just children pretending to be adults.
I don’t HAVE to be brilliant at something straight away, I don’t HAVE to get things right first time, I don’t HAVE to know what I am doing, I don’t HAVE to worry about fucking up.
Up until the point where I encounter doing something for the first time, I am just a child pretending to be an adult anyways. I am back to either being coaxed by my mum to get my armbands on and come get in the pool, or I am a child standing on the edge - terrified of being pushed in.
So what I DO have to do, is make sure I look after that kid.
I have to try to encourage that kid, help to make him feel more confident, safe and secure, reassure him that whether it takes an hour or whether it takes a lifetime, he WILL ‘get it’ - but most importantly, I have to reassure him that regardless of whatever happens... he doesn’t need to be as scared as he is - because he is not going to drown.
The inner child, just like fear - will never go... on some level, whether we know it or not - we will always revert back to being that scared little kid.
So knowing that - would you still berate that child for being frightened? Would you give that child a hard time for not being incredible at something after two mins? Or would you praise that kid to the high heavens for being brave enough to try?
That kid is you. So give yourself a break.
It’s alright to be scared, it’s alright to fuck up, it’s alright to not be confident at first, but if you never learn how to swim, you will never experience that feeling of knowing that all your fears were being magnified a thousand fold, you won’t experience the feelings of relief, satisfaction and pride at knowing that you are far more capable and self reliant than you thought you were, and maybe even most importantly - you won’t experience the excitement, fun and enjoyment of running around the pool like a fucking maniac, laughing and joking - before leaping off the side and bombing into the water.
What kid should not get the chance to experience that?
Getting a lot of attention from Russia on my Insta lately ...
‘Oh hi Alina Kulimena with your 1516 follows but no posts.... ‘ 🙄
I can only come to one of two possible conclusions -
1/ Putin has sussed that I’m well unhappy with the current regime and sees me as a potential recruit — a covert ‘Manchurian Candidate’ type operative - charged with task of bringing down the British Government.
Susceptible and disillusioned enough to be hypnotised and used as a human weapon:
One ‘key-phrase’ and - zoop- I go online....
(Poooooots, if you ARE reading this bro.... and want to reprogram me into becoming a cold blooded emotionless killer - I’m wholeheartedly down with that).
Fully prepped to stick two in Teresa May - one in the chest and as she is on the way down -one in the head. As is the way. 🙏🏻
Anyways - I ain’t gonna feel bad about the prospect of stopping a murderer in their tracks, and you can’t really kill a robot can you?
Plus - If something doesn’t have human emotion, you can’t be charged with ‘murder’ either I don’t believe. 👍🏻
2/ The Russian people have recognised and embraced my genius for musical talent spotting before anyone else and fully want to get behind the bands I’m working with?
Fuck knows - Defo one of them 2 things anyways.
Point of Interest:
Given the amount of keywords I have used in this post... I would definitely have hoped to have flagged up like a set of Christmas Tree lights to The British, US and Russian Intelligence Services -
So - Alan, Chad, Maksim— whoever’s reading this one - what’s happening guys 👋🏻
I absolutely refuse to rule out any conspiracy theory that I hear of... I love them.
Moon landing? Bullshit.
Princess Diana? Definitely nutted off.
Sep 11? America done that.
I was researching ‘The Brian Jonestown Massacre’ today - ( which by the way - is the best band name that anyone has ever or will ever come up with) - and from there I was led to all the stories about Rev Jim Jones and The Jones Town Massacre...
I remembered being vaguely aware of the story somewhere in the deep dark recesses of my mind - Reading about it all properly for the first time today tho... I found it fascinating.
The suggestion that the whole bizarre tale was all part of a mass CIA mind-control experiment ... and a failed one at that... (Google: MK Ultra) ... I can 💯 totally get on board with believing that kinda shit.
Waco, David Koresh and the absurdity of whatever transpired there too... too strange to be fiction.
The most important and pertinent questions left afterwards always seem to somehow remain unanswerable and almost always inexplicably so... seemingly.
Or perhaps rather more curiously - the alternative - we are often left with wildly contrasting and differing versions of events - The sworn testimonies of those who were there - yet those whose memories would seem to be locked in a battle to contradict each other?
Once the dust settles - there is never quite enough pieces of the truth left over for us to be able to fully reconstruct the story in it’s entirety - gaping holes left unexplained.
It is the absence of the ability to be able to prove or come to a definitive unanimous conclusion of what happened that proves that somehow, somewhere, someone along the line ...is fucking lying.
America v Russia - Capitalism vs Communism - when you read about the some of the lengths both of these sides have gone to (and continue to go to) to try to win the ongoing Cold War - man... it’s fucking insane.
If all of us were completely unaware of the existence of The CIA or the KGB (now FSB) and couldn’t conceive or believe them to exist - and you were handed a book someone had written about all of the escapades over the years - you would think you were perusing through the fantasy world ravings of a fucking lunatic.
It’s literally mental. In a genuinely literal sense.
Even just skimming the surface of it - nevermind the truly horrific stuff, if you look at it objectively - it’s all completely crazy shit.
From embarrassingly laughable and comical failed assassination attempts (google: Fidel Castro exploding cigar) - to the rather more sinister practice of being prepared to completely break down the psyche and the humanity of one of your own citizens or comrades, to be willing to brutally and systematically dehumanise and psychologically reprogramme an individual - in order to turn them into a psychotic, pathological, paranoid, sociopathic weapon.
Still ... what price to pay for freedom eh? What lengths would those in power be prepared to go to in order to preserve their countries ’way of Life’ (or rather their tenuous grip on the power they wield) ...
For America to kill 900 or 5k of it’s own citizens in order to spin a yarn and cover up it’s real motives for say... waging war for oil ...it’s means absolutely nothing to them.
Collateral damage... the price of Liberty and Freedom...
You think Theresa May gives even the tiniest fuck about 22 kids being blown to bits at a gig up North?
She doesn’t give a shit. Not one iota of compassion.
These people ‘in charge’ - they are in those positions of power because they exhibit signs of severe and extreme mental illness in the first place ...
To actually crave that level of a power - or to WANT to have the responsibility of millions of people’s lives in your hands - the first time someone utters that out loud to another human being, they should be reported and sectioned immediately.
‘I’ve been thinking about it... and you know what? I reckon I could be The President? ... na ... seriously ... I’ve decided that out of absolutely everyone - I am the single most capable person to run shit ... I’m definitely intelligent enough to be able to make the right decisions for absolutely everyone else ... having to make Life or Death choices on a daily basis? Fuck yeah... I live for that stuff.
I reckon - out of everyone, I am the most qualified person to be in charge of whether or not to press the big red button -
I should be the one who decides whether or not to nuke shit up - kill millions and millions of innocent people? Thrust any left over survivors into a horrific post apocalyptic dystopian nightmare future? Yep... no worries. You leave that to me...’
My suggestion would be: Once every four years or so - we ask everyone who would like to be considered for the role of Prime Minister or President - and then whoever puts their hand up - just help those people on with a straight jacket and cart them off to somewhere with nice padded soft walls where they are no danger to anyone.
People who seek the power of Life and Death over others are not well... they shouldn’t be trusted with a pair of scissors... let alone trusted with the fate of the world.
In the late 18th century... an exceptionally sick minded bastard called Jeremy Bentham, gave birth to a rather perverted idea.
It was for the design of a particular type of prison - and a system of control - called The Panopticon.
The design of the building made it so that just a single guard could observe all of the inmates, without the inmates being able to tell if they were being watched or not.
Although it would have been impossible for a single guard to watch all of the inmates at once, the inmates, could not know if they were being watched or not -and so had to assume that they were...
The result was that they regulated their OWN behaviour.
Just the threat that authority COULD be watching was enough to control the masses.
... but what about controlling those of us not inside a prison?
How could the people in charge make sure that the rest of us lot behave ourselves?
How about the invention of GOD?
God: The fearful and threatening concept of an all powerful ever present Iron Fist inside a velvet glove ...
The fair but vengeful guard... Ever watchful... ... ever present ... and yet never seen. The ultimate watchman.
Just a thought?
The speed of the research, the rapid progress made and the subsequent results seen in the use of cannabis within medicine went largely unnoticed. Initially.
... but in a World were most were suffering and self-medicating anyways - it didn’t take long before cannabis oil soon became the best option available in the treatment of ‘depression’ (both diagnosed or otherwise) ... and a whole host of other diseases and illnesses- long before it was available on prescription.
Only this was back in 2018, and so nobody in power gave a shit... they were happy to have an apathetic and lethargic population... as long as they were squeezing the lifeblood and the poundnotes out of humanity - all was as it should be - and the rest of us...?
Well, we didn’t kick up much of a fuss... fuck, most of us didn’t even notice ... we were all much too busy playing with our phones, watching boxsets and waiting vacantly to die of consumerism. Or boredom. Or cancer.. Or all three:
The young man paused for a second... ’What was it like? ... Back then... before... well before all of this? ’ ...
The old man looked wistfully into the middle distance... it had been a long time since he had thought about his time ... and life back on Earth.
‘It’s hard to imagine now just how bleak things were back then... Cancer was winning the fight against itself. 1/3 of us were being affected by it back then... homelessness was an epidemic, hospitals were on the brink of collapse, we set up emergency food banks - not to help feed the poor... no... for people who were working but still couldn’t afford to eat, and 1/4 of us had been diagnosed with ‘mental health issues’ and were being treated with anti-depressants... and that was just in England... supposedly a civilised country.
As for the rest of the World? ... The reality was that War, Famine, Pestilence and Death ... they were everywhere.
To some they symbolised the growth of capitalism, communism, catholicism and Islam... to others - the rise of false religion, the increase of war, the escalation of natural disasters ... and a loss of Faith ..
To some they represented the ‘Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse‘ - and signified the end of The World... just as the Bible had foretold ... and it was those people who appeared to have been right...
In 2020 - NASA had proven beyond all doubt that The World was coming to an end... somewhere out there amongst the stars, working its way along The Universe and coming straight for Earth - An apocalypse... they called it ‘Revelation’ ... or ‘The End of Days‘ - they predicted that by 2025... Humanity would face extinction... Armageddon.
It’s hard to say that humans were to be wiped out... because by then there was no humanity...
We had no compassion, no sympathy, no understanding... we didn’t care anymore... didn’t feel anymore... we had become desensitised - not just to each other ... but towards everything... we had killed the planet... the world that we inhabited, the world that already had all of the natural resources that we could have wanted or needed to sustain us all... and what did we do to it?
We either chopped it down, poisoned it or set it on fire...
We hated each other, lied, cheated and stole from one another... power and greed made us kill each other, fear drove us to insanity .. and we couldn’t even see it...
Humanity was dead long before ‘Revelation’ hit us... ‘Revelation’ was simply the fire that was to purge Earth and rid it of the disease that Mankind had become.
The young boy could feel the sadness radiating from the old timer.... he could sense the pain and the shame the old man was experiencing.
Every single story the boy had heard about Earth had all depicted the same vision ... A hellish nightmare ... a history full of bloodshed and violence from the outset .. greed and fear, separation and hate, all conspired to tear Mankind apart...
From the very first Sin... was humanity really doomed to fail from the start?
Or was it the conception and the rise of religion...the single biggest cause of conflict and bloodshed in mans history ... was that the catalyst that had signified the beginning of the end?
Some say it was the failure of good people to act - those who knew better ... and yet stood and did nothing - whilst evil ran amok all around them... some say it was that, that had finally convinced ‘The Creator‘ that the human experiment had truly failed, that redemption was beyond humanitys grasp and that it was finally time to admit defeat.
... and yet whilst Earth had been destroyed -Humanity ... somehow ... survived ...
A miracle had occurred... and Mankind had changed... after living in darkness since it’s inception ... somehow and against all odds Human Nature HAD evolved... it had seen the error of it’s ways... it had accepted the horror that it had caused ... and it had repented...
The World had woken up.
The young boy had heard the stories before ... but surely they couldn’t be true?
Surely it couldn’t have been something that simple, something that ... innocuous... that had changed everything? Humanity had seen war, famine, death... none of those things had caused enough horror to open Mankinds eyes ... or their minds...
So if things of that magnitude had not caused a shift... how could humanity have found salvation ... in a plant?
‘Was it really weed...?‘ the boy asked... ‘Was it really something as simple as that? Something as simple as a plant that saved Mankind?’ ...
The old man, a human himself... smiled ruefully... ‘it was....yes... it was something as simple as that...’
... ’...but how?... the boy persisted... ‘I don’t understand?’ ...
The old man closed his eyes... approaching death peacefully... he was ready to go... he had seen things in his lifetime that had been more than enough for any mind to try to conceive... he was tired now... he could smile when he thought of the past... He had lived to see The Spiritual Evolution of Humanity ... he had lived through the dark times, he had grown up and witnessed the horrors as wars and hatred had raged on Earth - and he had lived long enough to feel the security and serenity as true peace and love had become a reality...
He smiled once more... ‘It wasn’t as simple as a plant my child, it was what the plant contained ... a chemical... a chemical powerful enough to change the World.’
‘If memory serves ... it happened like this’...
A scientific breakthrough changed everything - in 2018, we began to see the staggering results that the use of cannabis oil was having within medicine... yet one of the key ingredients - the chemical known as THC - was being removed ... that changed in 2020... when a study showed that a tablet containing just 3% THC had produced miraculous results in it’s trials...
By 2021... the pill was compulsory for all citizens the entire world over... One tablet to be taken every morning. By every man, woman and child on Earth...
Almost overnight the World changed - violence began to drop, a feeling of well-being and peacefulness was reported,
Universally people spoke of finally feeling comfortable in their own skins...
The changes continued - we would go on to develop a stronger connection with each other, and realise that we were all interconnected, all brothers and sisters -
Collectively our brainwaves went from beta to gamma... we began vibrating on a much higher frequency... and as a result... we all became more connected and attuned to a ‘higher power‘ ...
The idea of religion soon fell away... as did the idea of different countries, borders and passports... we realised that different cultures were divisive and that none of us were any different from the person next to us... we knew that separation was an illusion.
When Judgement Day finally came ... when the sky parted and we were all made witness to the magnificence and indescribable beauty that underpinned our entire existence - we were no longer at war with each other ... our creator discovered us all peacefully and happily gathered ... all aware of the fact that we were ALL serving TOGETHER to form a uniquely vital, crucial and essential part of what - once CONNECTED - becomes the whole.
... and in that one moment - we were spared...
The damage that we had done to the planet could not be reversed, we could not stay on Earth, it could no longer be our home...
The dawn of a new era and the birth of a new chapter for humanity began on that day, as we were given a new place to build our future, we opened our eyes to find ourselves transported to a new world .. a new home... as members of a new race ... all part of a single ‘Universal Family ... ‘
The destruction of Earth was the sacrifice we had to make, the consequence for our blindness, but it had opened our eyes and for the first time ... humanity could see a clear future - a peaceful and loving future ... together.