I try to be saintly, I try to be good
I act how most people think that I should.
So what’s with this shit?
Oh God up above
Giving me no breaks,
Showing no love
The dead bitch represents the crap that I have to deal with on a daily basis. I never actually blamed god for any of it, but I’m going to start. It feels really good to blame him. It’s empowering.
During my ayahuasca trip, she told me that god was real but not real. She also stated that I am god.
Schroedinger’s cat just popped in my head. Why? Maybe I am the cat (god) who is getting radioactive poisoning, and I am both alive and dead at the same time (real but not real)?
Sorry, that doesn’t make any sense but maybe I’ll come back to it later……
What I learned from ayahuasca is that we are 100% responsible for how we live our lives. God won’t help or save us.
She also told me that karma whittles down our ego’s until we are left with nothing but perfect belief in god.
So basically, I’m supposed to believe in myself. Not only that, but to know with absolute certainty that I can succeed at anything. Not just believe, but know for a fact. It’s the kind of knowing that know’s no language, know’s no words. Your thoughts must leave its vessel.
But they don’t leave. They never leave. And because they never leave, we’ll always be a dead radioactive cat – unawakened.
Not making sense again? What-ev’s…
Your brain uses 20% of your daily caloric intake despite it being only 2% of your body’s weight. It works harder than your heart. The heart uses one watt of energy while the brain slurps up 12.
Why am I telling you this?
Where the hell does all that energy go when it’s a rule that energy can’t be created or destroyed?
The bulk of it is used to transfer data from one neuron to the next, and the rest is used for clean-up so you won’t have a stroke.
But once the data gets transferred to its designated neuron, what happens to the energy then? If it can’t be destroyed? We obviously don’t recycle it because we keep stuffing our faces.
So, WTF man?
I probably wrote about this before, many times I bet, but I’ll say it again – thoughts are non-local smeared data packets that are faster than the speed of light thereby feeding into the oneness, the collective mass-consciousness of the universe.
Prayers work, but what or whom are we praying to?
Oh man I really want to sink in and write about this. I mean really dig my fat fingers in but it’s already 11:30 Pm.
Plants can detect danger before it happens. I watched a Netflix documentary about plants and how they respond before having a limb cut off.
That’s irrefutable PROOF! Evidence of precognition in plants. Plants don’t have thoughts, but you don’t need thoughts when working with the “emptiness” of nirvana.
At the University of Nevada, researcher Dean Radin has demonstrated that this also occurs in humans moments before seeing a frightful image.
One’s future affects his past.
There was another study done about train wrecks. Statistics say that trains bound for crash tend to have a large sum of its regular passengers missing that day. As in, they coincidentally stayed home or chose a different mode of transportation.
Next time you get on a plane or train with hardly any passengers on it, think twice about leaving on it.
The post I wrote the other day, the one where I wanted my future self to send me a prayer, really got me thinking what if? What if I can?
Many physicists believe that all possibilities occur simultaneously in non-local spacetime. They’re all happening in an infinite array of dimensions. I seen this demonstrated in the documentary What The Bleep. Also it’s mathematically proven with Schrodingers cat which I learned about from An Elegant Universe by Brain Greene. I was 19 or 20 when I read it.
I’ve been thinking about this stuff for a LONG time.
What if all those hundreds of people who stayed home instead of boarding a train doomed to crash, stayed home because their future self in a parallel dimension told them to?
Future self – “Oh man I wished I stayed home today.”
Present self – “I think I’ll stay home.”
I never regretted anything in my life before opening up this business and making so many freaking mistakes. I want a do-over. But since only my past self in a parallel dimension will trust her instincts better than I did, I can’t have a do-over. But what I can have is the intention of never making the same mistake twice – or even new mistakes once.
From here on out I’m trusting my gut. I’m going to start sending prayers to not just my past self, but future self too. Starting tonight. Right now.
What info do you have for me future self?
She’s still telling me to wait. Just wait and see. Don’t give up. It’ll work itself out.
Sometimes to help me fall asleep, I watch the screen behind my closed eyelids and wait for images appear.
These images make no sense at all. Sometimes they are a perfect geometric shape, but other times I get images of a door, the carpet of a floor, a pair of scissors – I forgot what else because I usually fall asleep seconds after seeing these images. Very rarely do I remember what they are.
These images aren’t a dream. They’re not in color, they’re just outlines but are very textured and palpable like I can reach out and touch them.
Anyway, I’m going to do that tonight. Look for images. I’ll look for key items that can help me with my business.
Winning lotto numbers actually. I’ll be looking for winning numbers if you want to know the truth. Sent to me by my future self wanting to see if this experiment actually works. Although, she won’t know if it works or not. Not unless….oh, forget it.
This is what happens when you mix desperation and spirituality with a person who loves metaphysics and science fiction.
But anyway, ayahuasca told me that I was a martyr but I have the choice to opt out.
I’m opting out. I’m done with this shit, you hear me god? Done done done.
HOlY SHiT! I just remembered my original topic to this post!
I scrolled up and was about to re-read, edit, and publish this shit but then I read my original title for this post, The Writing Curse.
Ugh, okay, I’ll sum up my thought. It’s getting really late and I need to sleep dammit.
Basically, when you write your life, you tend to go back and re-read your old posts/entries. Re-living horrific events all over again. So I came up with a theory that writers who write their life are more prone to misery.
Why is this? Because of the feedback loop I mentioned earlier. Your future self affects your past.
In essence, if your future self believes that their past was shitty, than their present self (now) will feel shitty. However, if their future self looks back and see’s their past as fun, than their present self will have fun.
Certain events and festivities will be more fun and memorable than others simply because your future self looked back on them and reminisced.
For writers, if this theory is true, will have horrible ups and downs for no apparent reason. Their shitty times will be extraordinarily shitty while their good times will be grandiose. And what would’ve been a grandiose time will turn shitty for no apparent reason. Simply because we looked back on it while in a sour mood and analyzed the piss out of it.
The past is never forgotten for writers and we always compare then from now. We can’t stop re-reading.
Just in case this is true, I’m shifting my perspective on both my past and my present as being triumphing. I am triumphing.
And I need to write about the good in my life and stop transfixing on the bad. If I transfix on the bad, my future self will feed into it by remembering how bad it was only to make it worse than it has to be.
I will happily endure a hard life rather than live a life forgettable, but if I can make it a little less miserable, it’s worth a shot. And okay, a very long shot.