Category Archives: journal

Life…..

The prison dreams stopped just as I suspected they would after I’ve written about them.  It’s still bizarre though, how often I had them.  It’s even more bizarre that I binged on watching Wentworth and still, no more prison dreams.

I enjoyed the show so much (Wentworth) that after completing the series, had my brothers girlfriend dye my hair Red like Bea Smith.

Anyway, aside from that, life has been tame as of late.

July 18th I had $3,800 in the bank. Last month on the 18th I had $4,463. This month, September, I have $5,793 which is insane seeing that I spent so much freaking money this month.

I’ve been recording via blog, how much money I have every month on the 18th. By the 18th, my first pay period has been deducted, my rent check cashed, taxes taken out, all bills paid accept for Amazon, phone, car, car insurance and Sears bill.

In two months time, I managed to saved $2,000. Far below my expectations. Of course, if I hadn’t spent so much money, I’d have around $3000 (possibly more). And if I didn’t have debt, I would have saved a little over $5,000 in these last two months.

I didn’t pay anything extra towards my debt this month. One of my therapists is taking the next two weeks off so I’m holding off on selling massages on Groupon until she gets back. I’ll not be getting a chunk of money from Groupon on the 5th, so I can’t afford to pay anything extra this month. Just to be safe.

I’m so tired, I just want to sleep.

I keep spying on ways to save money. Like joining Cosco, a wholesaler near my house. I bought enough tampons to last me until menopause. I bought foot cream and foot scrub in bulk, I bought Korean face masks for a dollar a pop. I spent a lot of money this month in order to save time and money when it comes to restocking the shelves. With each day, I get a little more stream-lined than the last.  A little more MELefficient (I like combining random words with my name).

I hope my clients don’t get adverse side-effects from the dollar a pop Korean face masks….

Things are so much better now than before as far as money goes and my crazy aunt and OCD cousin moved out ages ago. I should be relieved, I should be joyous, but I can’t shake this worrisome essence lingering about. This ominous feeling that “it’s not enough”. Saving $2,000 over these last 2 months is “not enough”.

And I’m CONSTANTLY worried about my business. I mean constant, unrelenting feelings of despair. Despite how much things have improved.

I NEED to pay off my debt so I can take my cross-country trip

I NEED to hire a receptionist

I NEED to hire another therapist

I NEED an extra massage room

I have all these needs, things I have to do, and an excess of $1000 a month isn’t going to cut it. It isn’t enough.

I’ve been in NEED for years. I’m pretty sure most people are. It’s so goddamn tiring. And I don’t have kids, I have most of my meals prepared for me by my mother. I’m 100% healthy.  My bills are getting paid…

It makes me question if I’ll ever be satisfied.  It makes me wonder how others can have real jobs, real husbands and children, and are able to do everything happily?  To be truly satisfied and worry-free, how do they do that?

It’s all bullshit, everything. I don’t believe it.

Either everyone is lying, or something is seriously wrong with me.

I’ve never fought this hard for anything.  I’m ambitious about having no ambitions. I’m fighting to be a layabout slouch, a slacker, someone who sits and Netflix and games all day.  Not that I actually would spend my life like that, but I want the option to do so.  Everyone has their own definition of happy.

I don’t care who hates me for it.

But will it ever happen?

I just watched Zootopia on Netflix.  Yes, loved it.

Tomorrow I have three clients and then I’m taking my Dad to the symphony.  He’s never been and I scored tickets so I thought it would be best to take good ol’ Pops.

My Pop, he’s just been diagnosed, well, diagnosed is the wrong word.  He has a type of cancer growing on top of his head.  Right on his bald spot where the sun hits it when he’s fishing. It’s nothing to worry about.  Nothing, you hear me?  I shouldn’t even be writing about it.

I just got a text from a weird number.  Literally two seconds ago.  “Hey how are you?” They say.

I went out a few days ago with a friend I haven’t seen in a while.  I scored tickets to the funny bone and $200 in gift certificates to spend on food and drink.

I’m not sure what happened, but my friend ended up having to drive my car back home with me as the passenger.  Only, we didn’t go home.  We went to the bar where we met up with a few of her friends who all took a liking to me and then we went back to her house where her friends followed.  I didn’t leave there until 3AM.  I was shit faced hammered and had to get up early the next day for work.

WTF’s my problem…

When I drink, I love everybody.  I can easily be taken advantage of.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been kissed several times that night.  And I’m almost positive this strange phone number is from one of those people I met that night.  Oh, and did I say I was house sitting on top of it?

I HAD to let the dog out at the house I was sitting for.  Which meant I had to drive home under the influence, throw my PJ’s and some other crap in a bag, and drive to where I had to let the dog out and stay for the night so I can let him out in the morning.  Then go to work.

The next day was no picnic.  No, no picnic at all.  It’s because my first drink of the night was a vodka martini.  One vodka martini can turn the tides.  And eating Sriracha soaked bacon at a comedy club is NOT recommended.  Your asshole will hate you.

I’m still recuperating from it.

Okay, I gotta get some sleep.  I’ve been a real crank lately.

 

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Dreams

I keep having dreams about prison almost every single night for the last two weeks.  Before two weeks ago, I never had a prison dream, let alone any dream that appears almost every night.

I’m dreaming again because my current bedtime audiobook is the Tao Te Ching.  It’s only an hour and 43 minutes so it doesn’t last all night and into morning like my last audiobook did.  When the book ends, the dreams begin.

Usually the prison dreams are harmless.  All the characters from Orange is The New Black are there.  Red acts as my Mother and cares for me while all the prisoners are happy and don’t want to leave.  Almost like they forgot they’re in prison.  They only care about hooking up with each other and little else.  I was the only one that wanted to escape, which I did by the end of each dream.

The prison was actually a happy place but only because every one was preoccupied with hooking up.  There were rumors about prisoners wanting to hook up with me, but I ignored them and focused instead on breaking out.

All the prison dreams are like this.  All except last night when things turned dark.

The prison started out at as being a school.  I was in class trying to pay attention to the teacher when this one boy kept inching his desk closer and closer to me until he was right next to me shoulder to shoulder.

He had a crush on me and instead of me being flattered, I despised it.  I told myself to be nice to him so I don’t accidentally hurt his feelings.  “Just be nice Mel, keep you’re cool.”

But when he got to be shoulder to shoulder with me, I flew into a rage.  I pushed him and said “get the fuck off me!”.  Even though I specifically told myself not to do that, I couldn’t help myself.

That’s when the school turned into a prison but instead of it being a regular prison, it was more like a school.  The cells were classrooms.  I left the classroom to get away from that boy and plotted my escape once again but this time I wasn’t alone.

I had two friends with me.  A comical big fat black woman and a regular dude about my age, maybe a little younger.

We were caught trying to escape and sent to the disciplinary department which doubled as a shoe department.  The sadistic shoe maker gave us new shoes and as punishment for trying to flee, he nailed the shoes to my friends feet.  I was next in line to get the nails, but the shoe maker over looked me, saying that I wasn’t as much of an idiot as the other two I was with.

My friends could no longer run, but I could.  And so I did.

I ran through the school/prison and had to pee really bad.  I found the bathroom where all the stalls were, and the custodians were there working on a new toilet system involving tubes everywhere and the toilet I was to sit on was too high of a reach.  I was trying to climb up on the toilet when the dude I was with previously, the one who got the nails in his feet, busted in and said “Melanie!  What are you doing?!”  He was upset I wanted to leave the place.

“I’m trying to pee but the seat is too high.  I keep falling off.  Why are you in the women’s room?”

“I wanted to know how you like your hamburger.”

“My hamburger?  What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I’ll just put ketchup on it.”

And he left to go fetch me a hamburger.  He was starting to like me and wanted to impress me with a hamburger, and because of that, he lost all coherence of being in a prison and instead focused on impressing me.

That’s when I woke up and really had to pee.

In real life, there’s a guy I hung out with about a month ago.  He’s an old friend who I haven’t hung out with in 18 years and he contacted me on Facebook.  I kept putting him off for maybe a month or two when finally I said screw it and met him for a drink at a bar/restaurant in walking distance from my house.

Since then, he’s called and texted me non-stop.  He called at 2:30AM last night when I had to wake up at 7AM.  I was pissed.  So pissed that I almost flew into a rage like in my dream.  But instead, I calmed myself and put him under the Do Not Disturb option on my phone.

I’m pretty sure the dreams started because of him.  I told him how I feel relationships are like a prison.  People focus on relationships instead of trying to break out of their bleak working lives.  And since then, the prison dreams are relentless.

But they make sense to me.  The perfect analogy.  But I’m not sitting around all day thinking about it, the only time I remember thinking about it was with that guy I hung out with.  So it’s perplexing that I’m dreaming of prison this often when I never think about it in waking life.

Maybe they’ll stop now.  Now that I’ve written about it.

I was also scared about getting sued because the window of opportunity of that happening was inching down.  The prison dreams may have also stemmed from that as well.

**********************************

On May 20th I wrote a detailed plan for my business.

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Okay, so not very detailed, but the plan is still a go.

July and August I found myself with having one or two clients a day.  I lounged around watching bad sci-fi movies on Netflix and worried about my productivity.

“What if I’m like this when I don’t have to work at all anymore?  Just laying around doing nothing?”

But then from the grace of god, I found myself with 5 days off in a row in late August.  Not a single client.  During these five days, I practiced the piano, went to Rhode Island and stayed over night (the first time this year), devised a new member client system, went hiking twice (the first time this year), hung out with valued friends.

I can’t remember the last time I had 5 days off in a row (besides taking trips).  And during these 5 days I realized that I’m not as lazy as I think.  Everything I wanted to do, everything that I put off, I did in those 5 days.  All the while, worrying about my business.  If the phone is being answered and if clients are happy – I was tethered to the business and couldn’t fully relax.  Same thing happened when I went to Alaska.  Impending doom circled my head like a halo.

But then my employee cut her hours and I’m back at it again.  Massaging 3 or 4 clients a day.  I feel relieved that I’m there overseeing everything, but miserable that I have to massage again.  I’m relieved too that I can squirrel away even more cash to pay off my debt, but miserable that this tirade of struggle seems to go on and on.

I feel really close this time though.  Just a few more months until freedom.  But I’m struggling with the first leg of my plan, paying off at least one of my bills to free up money needed to afford the extra massage room.  I can afford it now, but that’s going against the plan.  It’s jumping the gun.  Bad things happen when I do that.

I have no choice but to wait until one bill is paid off.  The suspense of how my plan will turn out is killing me.

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My newest fantasy while massaging people is that of my cross-country adventure.  I decided not to go with a motorcycle, but a moped instead.  You can ride a moped anywhere and if the engine breaks down or I run out of gas, I can peddle the damn thing.  I can freely ride the cross-country bicycle trails.  That’s the main reason for wanting a moped.  I even picked out the bike I want.

Going cross-country on a highway, in my opinion, would be a shit time and the point of this expedition will turn into a destination trip and not a site seeing journey taken through winding roads through quaint towns.  Sticking with the bicycle trail is imperative.  Plus I don’t need to rely on navigating while following the path, it’s like walking the Camino.

motoped

It’s called the Survival Motoped and it’s meant to withstand the zombie apocalypse.  I can order it and put it together myself, or buy it already put together.  A very big part of me wants to buy it right now and put it together so I’ll have it ready by the time of my trip.  But that goes way against my plan.

If I put it together myself, learn how to put the engine together, the frame, the spokes, it reminds me of the book Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  I can repair it myself if it starts acting up and I learn appreciation and self-efficiency.

One night, not too long ago, while watching Netflix and eating some delicious take-out, I picked out the attire that will accompany me on my trip.

A pair of protective motorcycle blue jeans, a leather motorcycle jacket with zippered vents for the summer, protective motorcycle boots and a half helmet.  They say to wear a full helmet with this bike along with full motorcycle protective gear, but wearing full armor on a moped looks ridiculous.  Plus I’m scared a full helmet will obscure my peripherals.

jacket

boots

And for the undershirt, I’m going with Ably.  Supposedly I can wear it everyday without having to wash it.  I pre-ordered one and it’s supposed to come sometime this month.

shirt

The Survival Motoped costs more than a Honda Grom, the original bike I wanted to go with.  But you can literally drive it anywhere and it has the same amount of CC’s as the grom, goes just as fast.  Has more storage space.  And I love the idea that I can peddle it if anything were to happen to the motor.

And it’s a zombie apocalypse inspired bike!

I’m worried about two obstacles in my way of the trip.

ONE:  Not paying off my debt in time and TWO, not being able to afford a receptionist.

I NEED a receptionist.  Without a receptionist, I’ll carry with me an impeding halo of doom.

Without a receptionist, I’ll have to wait yet another year to take my trip.  Let the seasons circle around again.  We only have 80 or so cycles of these seasons and I’m already going on number 37!

*********************************

Today is Monday, my day off.  I don’t feel like doing shit.  In fact, I want to go back to sleep.  I started writing this post as soon as I woke up from my dream so not to forget it a few hours later.

And the thing with relationships being a prison, I’m not that bad when it comes to them.  Knowing that someone is out there waiting for me is comforting, but I know exactly what I want in life.  I know exactly who I am because I know what I want in life.  And I know for certain I’m prone to distraction and letting years slip by while toiling in the slog of life’s interruptions.

Not knowing or finding a paid profession that I’m in love with, makes it hard for people like me.  People who get bored after a while, who hate being told what to do.  I’m curious about everything, but not enough to spend thousands of dollars and years of my life going to school learning about something that I might get bored with and feel trapped in like a hen in Animal Farm.  The drama, the hierarchy, the scandals.

If I go back to school, it won’t be for the purpose of finding a job when I’m done.  It’ll be to continue where the professor left off.  For further research and discovery and not because I’m being paid for it.

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Did you know there’s a rare disease (only 100 known cases) where your brain is unable to sleep?  It’s not regular insomnia, it’s an actual brain malfunction where it loses the ability entirely.  It’s called Fatal Famillial insomnia.  It’s mostly genetic, but the protein can also be passed on via body fluids or eating something tainted with it.  Like Mad Cow meat.  You can get it at any age even if you were born with it, you won’t know you have it until decades later.

Once it starts, you have 18 months to live.  You live with anxiety, paranoia, hallucinations and then finally dementia.  Basically it takes approximately 18 months of no sleep to kill you.

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It may be my day off, but it’s also my parents anniversary (45 years) so we’re going out to eat.  I bought them an Acer laptop for their gift.  They both love it.  My Dad cruises Amazon looking at crossbows and my Mom plays her free online slot games and forwards chain emails to all her cousins.  Last night I introduced her to YouTube, my personal favorite.

It’s almost payday so I have to go to work and pick up everyone’s pay sheets to send in.

 

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Shanked with Sunshine

I have somewhat of an obsessive personality but I never thought of it as that.  I always thought it was a superhuman ability to focus really well.

I have the ability to sit and stare at my debt chart for hours at a time just looking at it.  And while I sit and look, I fantasize.  I fantasize of what it would feel like once I pay off my big bill, or what it would feel like once I pay off my big bill and that other smaller one next to it.  How would it feel?  Would I feel different?  Be a different person?

And once everything is paid off, what then?

There’s a million dollar commercial property that I want.  It consists of 3 historic buildings, one of which houses our towns favorite ice-cream parlor for the last 30 years.

It’s okay to say Ice-cream parlor but it’s not okay to say massage parlor.  Pfff….semantics.

I want to put my bar/coffee/tappa’s cafe in the middle building.  It’s the perfect place.  And collect rent on the other 3 shops on the property.  The locksmith, the frame shop and ice-cream parlor.

I sit and I stare at my debt chart while fantasizing about this.  I can do this for any length of time.  I do it until something else pulls me away.  Like the bathroom, or my stomach, or I can’t keep my eyes open.

I’m now $36,400 in debt.  This month I hope to pay off $3,000 of it.  But it’s killing me.  This is torture.  Even if I pay off $3000 (which is a ton of freaking money!), I’ll still be $33,000 in debt.  It’s like a drop in the bucket.  $3000 is a mere drop in the bucket while it feels like gallons in my pants.  Truth be told, I probably can’t pay $3000 this month.

In the meantime, the 300 couple’s massages I sold on Groupon are almost all redeemed.  So I’ve been laying around a lot lately with my brothers dog.  We watch bad science fiction movies on Netflix which some of them turn out to be really good.  When we’re done watching one of them, the credits roll and Netflix challenges us to watch 3 more bad sci-fi movies.  I accept your challenge Netflix.

Me and my brothers dog watched almost all of the sci-fi movie category.  All that remains are the sharknado movies and the one about the really big Spider, what’s it called?  Oh yeah, Big Ass Spider.

I have a client today at 6:30pm.  I have my period, blah.  It’s freaking hot out today.

My therapist just told me she doesn’t think her friend will be able to work for me in the fall because now she’s getting married and plans are changing.

She was an integral part of my plan, so that sucks.

A while ago the I-Ching foretold something shitty was going to happen to me in August.  I’m trying to lay low this month, not do much.  I don’t want to spend any money anyway.  It’s already the 11th, so just a few more weeks and I’ll be free of the bad juju.

The man who ruined my business last year, his trial is on the 26th.  I think it’s his ultimate trial.  If that date comes and goes with me coasting through it without being contacted, it’s all peaches and cream from here on out.  They definitely can’t sue me once September comes.  I love the statute of limitations clause.  Thank the glory of Gods for that one I tell ya.

I woke up today with a dark cloud over my head and I don’t know why.  Things are going near perfect lately.  I mean seriously, everything is going fantastic.  Even the Melanie Haters are not hating me anymore and inviting me places and talking to me.  It’s a real brain bender.  And the business is clean and well stocked, the client/therapist ratio is spot on so everyone is booked but not over booked.  Clients are happy.  I’m making money.  I’m also laying around a great deal…..but……

Shit man, I don’t know what it is.  Maybe it’s my period.  Maybe it’s Anthony’s trial, maybe it’s my debt or my semi-ruined plans for the fall.

It’s a culmination of everything.  It’s the promise I made to myself to not retire from massage until I pay off my debt.  It’s the unknown variables when owning a business, if employee’s quit, if clients leave horrible reviews.  It’s the unknown variables in life in general, that anything can happen.

When things are going good, I feel more scared than when they are bad.  I’m pre-disposed to deep down misery, but my deep down misery is being shanked with sunshine.  I say deep down because nobody can see it on the outside.  I’m a happy optimist-go-lucky on the outside.  My misery grounds me and keeps me stable.  It’s what spurs my dry humor. I’m equally miserable as I am happy and I like it that way.  I’d be miserable if not for misery.

Where does my misery come from?  Taxes, not being free, having to work hard only to die in the end, you know, the norm.

But I feel so grateful.  Insanely grateful.  I kiss the walls of my business every time I leave it at night.  I kiss the damn walls and say “I love you”!

You have no idea how much has changed since I moved the business.  The place is nearly perfect in every way.  My future has never looked brighter or more promising.

I wish I can tell you more so you’d understand.  The cement in my chest is gone.  But if I write about it, it just sounds like bullshit.

I wonder if by me being half miserable, I get my gratefulness from that?

Anyway, enough about me, let’s talk about you.  Oh yeah, I’m basically talking to myself here.

Rational Brain – “No you’re not, I’m here.”

And what do you have to say?

Rational Brain – “Go to sleep.  Do NOT watch Ip Man: The Final Fight.  GO TO SLEEP.  Its almost 12:30 in the morning!”

Just five minutes, please?  Then I’ll sleep. It helps me sleep.

Rational Brain – “You’re incorrigible.”

It’s so hard to want to sleep.  Nobody’s calling, emailing, texting.  No clients to massage.  If the only real currency is time, I feel I’m rich with it at night and it’s all mine to do as I please.  I’m horribly selfish with time.

I wonder if all night owls are selfish with their time?  People who don’t want to work, don’t want to have kids or a relationship, I wonder if they love night as much as I do.  This doesn’t pertain to insomniacs who can’t sleep, but to people who don’t want to sleep.  They’d rather solve puzzles, read books, write…etc.

I’m going to name my bar My Time since it’s really the only currency there is.

It’s supposed to be a phase in life, to go to bed late and wake up late.  It’s part of young adulthood.  I read an article about it.  It starts shifting back to normal once you’re in your 30’s, back to when you were a kid who got up early.

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It’s a few days later.

I slept a lot.  A lot a lot.  I went to bed at 8PM, woke up at 12:30AM, went back to sleep at 1:30AM and woke up at 12PM and here I am laying in bed on my day off.  A beautiful wondrous day off.

I’m about to watch a documentary called Flat Earth on YouTube.  I have no idea what it is, but supposedly Bruce Lee knew about it’s secrets and that’s where he got his power from.

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How to Learn

In my last post I wrote about how schools should teach a class on how to learn.  To me, it makes perfect sense.

Here’s how I’d do it:

First I’d start with philosophy, predominately, Joseph Campell’s “A Hero’s Journey.”  Why?  I’ll get to that in a moment.  First let me explain in the simplest way possible, what A Hero’s Journey entails.

It’s basically the blueprint of every story ever made.  Short or long, same story, same blueprint.

2000px-Heroesjourney

There are challenges we face when we go against the norm.  When we shine just a tad brighter than required in our situation, there’s an unbalance.  There’s also an unbalance when we shine a little dimmer than the rest, and that’s okay too!  The story happens on the onset of unbalance, of change.

Beginning your adventure into learning how to learn with the hero’s journey will welcome challenges into your life big or small.  It will provide a framework on how to approach life’s problems, questions, and greatest mysteries without running from them.

Anything that may arise, anything out of the ordinary – something that you have not learned yet, is treated with respect and care.  Each QUESTion becomes a quest and the “ion” part of it is the molecular imbalance from not knowing the answer.

Oh god that’s dorky.

Okay ok, you get the idea though, right?  The idea is to not get distracted or bored when searching for an answer that’s not easily satisfied.  This method unlocks the blocks in your head, the blocks making you a complete imbecile.  Will you become a drama queen?  Maybe.  But that might become a fun-loving quirky quality that others find adorable.

All you have to do is treat each question or curiosity like a microcosm of a hero’s journey.  And that’s it.  No matter what age you are, you can start chipping away at those blocks in your head.

Basically, it teaches you not to give up.

While you’re learning about the hero’s journey, it’s especially important to accept yourself and the limits you unintentionally placed.  If you don’t accept yourself, that’s your first dimwitted block right there.  It’s nearly impossible to learn anything if you don’t give yourself a chance.  It’s VERY important to acknowledge your limitations.  Acknowledge all your negative thoughts, the low self-esteem, low worth, loneliness, stupidity, whatever they may be, accept all of them.  They are part of the quest.  They are vital to the quest!  Without these embarrassing and heart wrenching character traits and limitation, there would be no meaning to any of it.

Not only would there not be meaning, but it’s impossible to learn anything if you don’t accept and acknowledge your limitations.

Why is this important?  Isn’t it more important to wash away demons and scoff at them?

They’re important because they are part of you and before you embark on anything, you must accept everything there is about you.  The good and bad.  That is, if you ever want to improve.

But why?

It’s part of learning patience.

Never underestimate the power of patience.  Patience is more powerful than love, more powerful than addiction.  Patience can withstand anything if you truly have it.

When you understand what patience is, and not just the intellectual meaning of the word, that’s your window.  If you’ve already experienced this, you know exactly what I’m talking about.  With patience, you can literally accomplish anything in a relatively short amount of time.

Allow for mistakes.

I’ve had one experience with patience, just one!  And that one experience taught me its true meaning.  It’s not about “putting up” with someone or something.  Or taking a deep breath and allowing for slip-ups.

Patience, when experienced properly, is about change and evolving.  More like, stepping aside to allow room for something to happen.  And somehow, you know exactly what to do once you let patience take hold (once you step aside).  You learn in your own unique manner.  You step aside, but you are somehow fully engaged.

It’s motion in stillness.  Stillness in the mind, even though it’s active.  But not active in the things that normally occupy your attention.  It’s kung-fu, really.

Then you realize you’re experiencing something extraordinary.  Your inherent genius.

To gain this zen-like quality of patience, it has everything to do with time.  This is where patience and time are intertwined, but unlike it’s intellectual definition of the word, it has absolutely nothing to do with waiting.

The true definition of patience means that you have all the time in the world, so take your time.  Don’t rush.  Time is inconsequential.  It has nothing to do with waiting.  Nothing to do with inactivity.   Patience is stillness.  That’s all that it is.  And it’s essential for learning.

How do you teach someone patience?

My best bet is to do it with mindful meditation.  With meditation, you can see your own thought process and separate yourself from that which does not matter.

Why I’m horrible at learning

The way my brain is set up, I take the shortest route possible.  I’m “destination orientated” and want nothing more than to get the job done as quickly and as comfortably as possible.

I also convey thoughts and feelings with as little verbiage as possible.  I zip to the point.  I don’t like to think about the in-between fluff.

For example, if I were sampling wine, I wouldn’t say words like “it’s opulent taste has a creamy decadence much like that of a velvety waterfall of refined chocolate.”

Instead I would say, “that’s good.”

Unfortunately for me, it’s the in-between fluff where learning happens.  Where the neurons in your brain make the most connections.  Connecting not only your 5 senses, but memory as well.

Saying “that’s good”, is the lazy way out.  Not the Hero’s Journey way.

5 lessons will be devoted to describing things.  A lesson for touch, a lesson for sight, sound, smell, and taste.  The student must use all 5 senses to describe what they are seeing, tasting, touching, etc… And also a memory it reminds them of.

Doing this will cause the student to engage their “full” brain and not just the essential parts.

You don’t need a class to teach this, you can practice it on your own with anything you eat and drink.  Each time you eat and drink, describe it with all your senses.  You can do it in private, no one has to know.  It’ll only take a few moments.  Prepare yourself with a list of adjectives ahead of time.

Doing this will also teach appreciation and gratitude.  And not to scarf down your food without tasting it first.

My mini Hero’s Journey

Happened two days ago when I taken a small adventure to Brooklyn with my friend to see Erykah Badu.  We went to the concert, stayed over-night, and the next day drove around galavanting.

One destination was the Green-Wood cemetery to find famous people buried there, particularly William Poole, AKA Bob the butcher from Gangs of New York.

I was about ready to give up.  It was 100 degree’s and I was thirsty and hungry.  I also felt the repercussions of not having exercised for the past 3 years.

I usually never want to give up.  I keep at it until I’m fully satisfied but I’m realizing that with no exercise and poor diet, I don’t feel like doing shit.  I give up easily, I feel stupid, I never want to exert myself.  The lazier I get, the lazier I get.

My friend reminded me of my old self, the one who has the stamina to never give up.  We drove around and walked around until finally we saw Bob’s final resting place and a few other graves and landmarks.

The alter to Liberty was my favorite.  The miniature statue of Liberty at the cemetery faced the large statue of Liberty many miles away on Statin Island.  They had a clear unobstructed view of one another and they were saluting each other.

After the cemetery, my friend realized she stolen her brothers phone charger and wanted to return it to him.

“Oh shit” I thought.  “At this rate we’ll never get home and we’ll have to sit in traffic, find a parking spot and it’ll take hours.”

Me thinking – “If I were her, I’d mail it back.  Take the easy most comfortable route.”

But not her.  She wanted to give it back ASAP.

And I was right about the traffic, right about the parking, but once we were at the destination, I ended up hanging out with her sister-in-law at her soap making business, then grabbing some tapas at a wonderful bar.  I ate great food and met a fantastic person, two counting the bartender.

All because of fate.  It was a Hero’s Journey and instead of making the choice to opt out of it when it presented itself, my friend chosen the harder, more memorable journey.

I can’t believe how much my weight contributes to my decision making.  I never struggled with weight before, I didn’t grow up with it.  So I can see from an outsiders perspective how it impacts my life.  I can see it especially when I’m around someone who is more like my old self than my new one.  I’ve changed and it has all to do with weight gain.

Anyway, I’ve been writing this post for weeks.  If I think of adding anything else, I’ll do it in another post.

Exercising and getting in shape is definitely considered a Hero’s Journey.

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Filed under journal, philosophy

Day Off Ramble

What came first, the stomach or the mouth?

Without the stomach, we wouldn’t need a mouth and without a mouth, there wouldn’t be need for a stomach.

Thinking about this makes me want to nap.

It’s my day off and I was going to go hiking, run some errands, install a shelf, call a friend, and sit at the coffee house to blog but instead, I’m laying in bed.  The worlds number one most laziest girl.

I’m on a tight budget for the next few weeks, or month.  It’s July 18th and I have $3,800 in the bank.  $2000 of it goes towards paying my workers, $1675 for rent, Geico, verizon, and Amazon credit card are all still due ($400 roughly) and that leaves me with negative $275.  I can easily make $275, but my property taxes are also due ($300), so I need to make at least $575 by the end of the month.

It’s totally doable, no question about it.  It’s just that I hate this.  My quarterly taxes were due this month, last month my employee’s got paid three times instead of two, and all my groupon money went towards paying off my debt.

I mean, the business is doing fine, really.  If I didn’t have debt, I’d have $17,000 more in the bank than I do right now, possibly more.  But I couldn’t pay off any chunks of it last month or this month, it’s at a standstill yet again.

But I have plans, as always.  Plans that don’t require a gamble like pricey marketing scams or adding facials to the menu.  I lost a lot of money through gambles.  No, just simple marketing by handing out coupons to new clients.

I’m starting a new type of membership program, one where clients don’t have to get charged every month.  As long as they come in once a month, they can get the membership rate.

Our members don’t come in every month, so there’s a mass ton of massages we have to give and the money I received from these massages is long spent.  Adding more members is not the solution for this business, but clients who pay at the time of their visit is.

I like the coupon idea.  It’ll actually save us money and hassle in the long run.  There are equal pro’s and con’s to each membership program and I’m putting the choice in the clients hands on what to do.

Vista Print will ship the coupons out in a week or so and when I get them, I’m going to sell a few groupons to get new clients in here to see how well this idea works.

Anyway, my Alaskan trip was great.  My host, the guy who paid for half my ticket, I didn’t know him all that well before the trip but he really opened up this time.  Spending a week with anybody can do this.  He relaxed and felt comfortable and talked to me like one of his good buddies.  That’s exactly how I want everyone to talk to me.  It’s about truth and honesty.

Guys are definitely easier to get along with than girls.  Girls don’t relax like guys do, or let down their guards.  We evolved into being manipulative due to our lack of strength and dependance.

*********************

I read an article about how to increase grey matter in the brain and it said to play an instrument, play video games (um, yes!), learn a new language, play chess….etc.

I downloaded an app for chess and learned how to play.

I thought chess was only for intelligent people but it turns out to be just like any other game I played.  I thought it would be too difficult to be addicting but no, it’s not difficult and it IS very addicting.  It’s no different than playing spider solitaire which I had a HUGE addiction to and had to delete the game.

I’ve been playing every chance I get.  In-between clients, while watching tv.  On my phone or on my laptop.

That’s what I’ve been doing instead of blogging.  Playing chess.

But I can actually feel a difference in my brain.  It’s becoming more calculating.

Most of what we do is automaton.  Our brains are involuntarily digesting food, pumping oxygen to our toes, hearing and viewing the outside world.  Allowing habits to form so they too can become involuntary.

I believe the only time we actually use our heads is when we’re actively learning.  Problem solving is a form of learning.  Communicating is not always a form of learning and can also become habitual.  We don’t really listen to each other because we assume we already know what the other is saying.  And like with any habit (tough to break), can be nearly impossible getting through to some people.

Our brains are turned off for most of the day.  That’s pretty crazy, right?

But since I started playing chess, it’s like a juggernaut.  I want more.  Like why does an explosion happen when you split the nucleus of an atom?  Why isn’t there any radiation in Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

(I’m reading a WWII novel)

But…….

“Learning” can also become habitual.  When you don’t really understand an answer, you give up on it.  It’s too much trouble.  In essence, you teach yourself how to not learn anything and by doing this, blocks form in your head.

Some people can’t understand the simplest of concepts due to these blocks.

Stupidity can only be taught by the person doing the teaching, and we can only teach ourselves.  Real teachers are only guides, we ultimately teach ourselves.  There should be a class on how to learn.

******************

Why I think angry people are stupid people…

I got angry the other day at a client scamming our business.

I never get angry, so when it happened, I jumped at the opportunity to analyze it.

I felt threatened.  That’s all it came down to.

Anger, broken down to it’s simplest form, is about feeling threatened.  A feeling that you can’t beat the other person.  You can’t win at their game.  Sometimes the opponent is yourself (not being good at anything, feeling like a loser).

Whether it be your ego, your value, your personality being threatened, ideals or beliefs, or your peace of mind (happens when you get annoyed), anger manifests.

The amount of anger you feel is in relation to the amount of worry, or lack of control you have over the situation.  The more hopeless, the angrier you get.  The anger makes you feel powerful enough so you can beat your opponent, but in actuality it does little but cloud your perception of truth.

Perhaps phobia’s are a form of anger?  I’ll get to that later….

That’s why some people can’t handle debating.  If they are unequipped (stupid), they’ll get angry because they can’t formulate their argument, they can’t sway you.  They’d rather shut down and tell you to “go fuck yourself”, than to deal with facing their own inadequacies and holes in their belief system.

Denial is a river of stupidity forever openly flowing.

It happens when you make blocks in your head by being too lazy (or too busy) to understand an answer, so you make assumptions to replace understanding.  Hence the holes in your belief system.

Anyway, I went off on a tangent, where was I?  Oh yeah, my client made me angry.  Almost the trembling kind (that’s the worst).

I analyzed it and at the heart of it, I felt she was threatening my business.

Now, in the past, as most of you know, I had a bad run of it.  My business wheels were crumbling on the road to failure.  The feelings I went through during that disastrous time left an imprint, a wordless feeling, ominous.  Anything, or any person who threatens my business hooks me back up to that ominous emotion I felt during the time my business was falling apart.

While I no longer should feel threatened, things are okay now, I still have that emotional imprint.  Like you remember how burlap feels rough on your skin, you can remember how you felt when your life was shattering.  It’s always there and you can never forget.

As soon as I realized she can’t hurt my business, my anger released.  And I mean the instant I realized this.  I still felt the physical residue of anger, the heightened blood pressure and adrenaline, but I told myself those are only the physical symptoms and will soon go away.

It’s hard getting rid of emotion while your physical body wants to hold onto it.  You may have found your answer, but you still feel upset.  You think nothing has been solved, so you cycle through it again until you fall asleep and wake up the next day feeling great.  It’s all just stress hormones.

Angry people can’t separate the past from the present.  They are constantly being tied back in.  The older they get, the more shit they go through, the angrier and more hopeless they become.  Every little nuance, the smallest of troubles, can become mole hills.

The worst of these angry people put up brain blocks by not taking the time to understand something, so they taught themselves how to be stupid.  They assume too much, filling in the holes with an already shotty belief system.  They can’t debate.  Can’t face truth.  They’re angry and half the time don’t know why.

They have the potential to be smart, so on the outside they might seem fine, but with all the blocks and assumptions, or even just being tied into past emotions, it’s a recipe for anger.

Maybe angry people aren’t stupid, but they’re weak.  They don’t believe they have all the power.

***********************

In other news, I made an appointment to get laser hair removal done on my face.  On my upper lip and under my chin.  I bought a whole package of them through the barter network.

Before I go under the laser, I can’t pluck or wax my hair.  There needs to be stubble.  So I’m giving myself one month of no plucking to make sure every little hair follicle is at the surface ready to be zapped.  The med spa said I’m allowed to shave though…..

It’s incredibly hard not to pluck.  I habitually rub my face up and down throughout the day checking for any stubble and when I find something, I pluck it out and it feels so good.  The thicker and darker the hair, the better it feels when I pull it out.  I look forward to my nightly pluckings.

But wow, to see them all growing together like this, I really am a hairy beast girl.  I didn’t shave yesterday and it looked like I had a five o’clock shadow.  If I don’t shave my face, I’m habitually rubbing my stubble.  The temptation to pluck is incalculable.

My appointment is August 1st, I’m only on day 18.  18 days of no plucking.  And I probably can’t pluck until the last laser treatment is done.

If it actually works, I’ll never have to worry again about what I look like while taking one of my wacky treks through unknown lands.  I’ll not need my mirror.

*******************

It’s now 5:30pm, I safely made it though most of the day by lounging.  I didn’t have any work emergencies thank god.  But I missed my window for a nap.  I think I shall play chess and watch Limits of Perception on Amazon prime.

I’m a dorky, weird, hairy lazy beast girl who writes 1800 words “just for fun”.  And I recently beat my video game, that’s another reason why I’m blogging today.

I think the stomach came first.

Oh, I was going to write about how phobia’s are connected to anger…..

Anger is more like a battle, you can either win or lose against your opponent.  Anger is not resolved.

Phobia’s are what happens after you lost the battle.  Not only have you lost, but years later, those scars still remain.  Triggers can hook you up directly to emotions of the past.

How do you explain an aerophobic person who never flew in a plane before?  It’s tied in with something else, an entirely different past experience.  Different experience, but same emotion.

Phobia’s are unresolved battles that you’ve lost.  The more you panic, the more hopelessness you feel.  The physical response of reliving and retrieving stress hormones from the past only exacerbates the matter.  Your body can’t relax no matter how calm your senses.  It’s autoimmune, first response.  Emotion comes before thought.  You’re caught in the grip of panic without knowing what’s causing it.  And when you realize, it’s too late.  Your body refuses to cooperate with reasoning.

*******************

Holy crap listen to this…..I’m watching Limits of Perception and you want to hear something cool?

When the earth starts heating up for whatever reason, don’t know the reason due to chaos theory, the earth metabolizes itself and you want to know how?  Oceans start getting warmer, plankton produce and multiply faster in warm water and plankton produces a molecule called DMS.  DMS causes water to condense into droplets, making clouds brighter and shinier to reflect the suns heat back into space.  These juiced up water droplets end up cooling the earth.

Plankton, a micro-organism, saves us from extinction every time a heat wave strikes.

And these little guys love the sun, but their own love of the sun causes clouds to appear.  It’s sort of an analogy for letting go.  If you hold on too tight, keeping watch and waiting (wading in the water like plankton), the sun will never appear.

Shit, I think I’m done for today.  I should probably eat something.

 

 

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help

When You Don’t Belong

When you’re the new guy at work, or new in town, you’re thrust into an environment where you must learn in order to survive.  I use the term “survive” loosely.  You must learn in order to make life easier and why is that important?  Because all anybody really wants is to be happy.

When we’re happy, we stop learning.  Your brain gets numb and dumb.  At least, that’s what happens to me.  All I want to do is eat and spend money when I’m happy.  To reach for my next fix.

Curiosity is different from learning in this sense, in that with curiosity, you’re not curious to help you “survive”, you’re curious because you have survived, or are surviving.  It’s more along the lines of not living to survive, but surviving so you can live.

Surviving is not living, and neither is the happiness that comes with it.  That kind of happiness makes you stupid, entitled, arrogant.  Hiring people to think for you.  Becoming a critic on your own likes and dislikes.

I want to establish the difference between learning to survive and learning to live and I strongly believe it’s through curiosity.

So when you’re the new guy, you don’t merely adapt out of fear you won’t make it.

Boss – “This is how we do it here.”

Surviver – “You got it boss.”

Liver – “But why do it that way?”

By learning why things are done a certain way, you’re less likely to repeat the mistakes of the past.  It also puts you in a position of higher innovated thinking.  The freedom to think different because you’re not scared of the consequences.

Unless you don’t care.  When you don’t care, you do what you’re told.  Indifference may be another indicator of a surviver.  You care only for your next paycheck.  Your reward, your entitlement.  The cycle repeats.

Perhaps that’s why money has a bad rep?  It’s the superficial fruits of labor, something we all want no matter what it takes to get it.  Our virtues become bent and broken.

Is the curious person a more virtuous person?

Blind loyalty to a person of power is another blatant quality of a surviver.

To me, anybody who exhibits blind loyalty to ANYONE is a dumb ass.

I’m curious as hell but when it came to working for someone else, I didn’t care.  I did what I was told.  My integrity was in constant upheaval, and the types of menial jobs I acquired were operated under common-sense rules and not some fancy formula for success.  I didn’t need to question any of it.

I did however, question why I was there.  And it’s a good thing too or I never would have opened my own practice.

I’m in Alaska at my friends house.  I’m so glad I brought my laptop!  We’re not going to the forest fest until later, when everyone gets out of work.  We’re going to set up camp, literally.

Until then, I’ll just have to lay around.  I don’t get bored but I wish I had a car…..Jay said I can use his car but it sounds like it’ll die at any second.  I’m in his bedroom laying on his futon and he’s on the floor in a sleeping bag taking a nap.  I’d bide my time drinking beer and watching YouTube documentary’s but I’m afraid of getting a headache if I did that.  It happened yesterday and it was a doozie.

So pretty much I’m only here for the Forest Fair it seems.  See myself some arts and crafts and shit like that.

I think I should shower and pack up my things.

But that thing I wrote about virtue being related to curiosity makes sense.  I want to meditate on it.  Indulge me for a spell…..

If virtue = caring, why care?  Why do we care about certain things and not others?  Because it effects me personally?  Or because of compassion? Or that I have such an awesome ulterior idea that surpasses the idea’s already in place and I need to voice them?

why do we care

We wouldn’t be curious about anything if we didn’t care.  I mean, it’s common sense if you think about it.

But being the cynic that I am, people care only for themselves.

And since I care only for myself, I’m curious mainly to enhance who I already am?  And if I enhance others in the process, strength in numbers, right?

So a curious, “virtuous” person is the biggest snake in the grass?  As opposed to a surviver who’s just going about their day minding their own business, trying to make a place for themselves, they are less likely to be meddlesome and manipulative?

Guilt…..

I feel no guilt what-so-ever.  I have felt it, but reconstructed my life so to never feel it again.  I voice my opinions and reject anything that will have the repercussions of guilt, even if felt long after the fog clears.

A caring person is a person who does things in a certain way to refrain from feelings of guilt and regret.

My cynical outlook can never be refuted or unproven.  When any question like this arises (why do we care?), it always has to do with what we can gain or refrain from it.

I DO feel people’s pain, but I don’t enjoy it.  So I make them feel better for my own good.  Because if I were to be in their shoe’s, I’d want help too.  It makes me feel better to help.

I’m a snake in the grass that feeds the hungry.

Okay, I’m going to shower.  I have to pee.

Oh and one more thing…..It’s better to not belong than it is to belong.  The best stories are from people who were thrown into a mess of a situation – outsiders who weren’t trained to be “yes men” because they have no fear of not being one.  The best stories are of people who live, and not survive.  There’s choices in living but none in survival.

Unless of course it’s a real survival story, those are cool.

Okay, I’m done.

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Filed under journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help, Travel

Fort Worth

I’m as efficient as a Japanese business man at the airport.  I try to be as streamlined as possible, slipping in and out of crowds like a wise grasshopper.  I purposely wore sandals for easy slip on/off at security.  I checked in at home and printed out my tickets, made sure not to have to check my bag.  I avoided every line imaginable at the airport today and the place was PACKED.  Dumb asses….

I hate crowds.  I’m not a fan of them.  Once a crowd turns into a mob, no one has individual faces anymore.  It’s all just a bunch of arms and legs moving in a cluster fuck.  They’d step over a dead person in the street without realizing.

I’m at the Fort Worth airport in Texas and I hope it’s not huge.  I can’t really tell from where I’m at how big this place is.  I have no idea where my gate is, let alone my gate number.  I’m just sitting here at the first place I saw that serves breakfast.

I kept nodding off on the plane.  I didn’t sleep last night.  My flight was too early in the morning so I couldn’t sleep.

I just ordered a bloody mary.  What the hell Mel?  I only have $300 to spend this week.  I’m not even there in Alaska yet and I’m pretty sure this breakfast will cost me at least $25 – $30.  For breakfast!!  I have no self control.  No dignity.

And I keep eying places to hide so I can vape my ecig.  Usually on the floor in front of a deserted gate I find a pole to hide behind.

OMG this bloody mary is friggin awesome!

Shit I’m tired.  It’s 11:38am in texas.  Back home it’s 12:38pm, in Anchorage it’s 8:39 in the morning.  My plane will be landing in Anchorage at 7PM Alaskan time after a 7 hour flight tonight.  How long will that mean I’m awake for?

I’ve been up since 10:30am yesterday, it’s been 26 hours I think I been awake for.  If I get to bed at 10pm tonight (Alaska time), it’ll mean I’ll be awake for 32 hours?  No no wait, hold on…..damn math.  Right now at home it’s 12:38pm so if I go to bed at 2am tonight (Connecticut time), that’s 14 hours from now, add that to the 26 I’ve already been awake for and that equals out to be 40.  I don’t know, I could be wrong.  I’ll figure out the math when I’m not so shitty.

I’m about to pay my bill and find my gate.  Hopefully I can start writing again once I get there.  My plane doesn’t take off until 315pm and it’s only 11:46am.

$34.97 was my total bill for breakfast.

And yeah, this place is huge.  The shuttle taken a good 3-4 minutes to get to my gate.

I literally feel pregnant right now.  My stomach is full of beef tenderloin breakfast burrito, toast, home fries, apple juice and bloody mary.  Perfect combo for a 7 hour plane journey I’d say.

I have this really weird habit of rubbing my stomach whenever I feel really full, gassy, or I’m drinking alcohol.  I’m just sitting here at my gate vaping my ecig in secret and rubbing my gigantic stomach like a freak.

I’m wearing a t-shirt I bought at Stop & Shop.  It’s a t-shirt that gives patronage to my hometown.  I don’t think I should be mentioning my hometown anymore on accounts of some guy searching for “massagebymelanie @ email”.  He landed on My blog with that search, but what are the chances it’s actually a client who know’s me?  Out of all the freaking people in the world?

Shit, I should DEFINITELY not mention Massage by Melanie, and even just the word “massage” should be off-limits from now on.

And I’m wearing super comfortable pants that feel like pajama’s.

This is quite nice having my blog here.

Okay, I’m going to publish this shit post and listen to my new audiobook, I’m starting to zone with my mouth agape.

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Filed under journal, Travel

Another OBE

I just want to write real quick about the OBE I had a few days ago.

It started out as a regular dream.  I was laying down on a wooden floor in front of a fireplace, incredibly tired and just wanted to sleep.  My “parents” were there sitting on the couch.  “Parents” is in quotes because they weren’t my actual parents in real life, but in my dream these strangers were most definitely my parents.  We just moved into a new house and I had my own bedroom, but I fell asleep on the floor in the living room because my bedroom felt lonely and didn’t feel like “home” to me.

Parents – “Why don’t you sleep in your room?”

Me – “I’m too tired…..I don’t want to……”

And I was incredibly tired and half asleep.  The wood floor felt hard, but warm in front of the fireplace and I was comfortable and felt safe.

My “dad” picked me up and placed me on the couch.

This feels like it actually happened, in a past life or something.

And then I woke up at a retreat center for video gamers.  People who wanted to get away and play video games all day, but the games they had were old and sucked.  Paperboy was one of them, a nintendo game from the 1980’s.

I sat on the floor with two of my friends, two boys and a girl with punkish pink hair.  One of the boys said that if I was a soda flavor, I wouldn’t taste good.  That’s when I became lucid and realized what he said didn’t make any sense.

Me – “I wouldn’t taste good if I was soda?”

Him – “No way.”  And he started laughing.

The 3 young people seemed extremely familiar to me, like I knew them personally from other dreams.  I was completely lucid but felt like I met these three over and over again, and also been to that same video game retreat center repeatedly.

Me – “I know you!  You were in other dreams I had.  Do you remember me?”

They all shook their heads.  “We don’t know you.”

They got up to leave, visibly miffed by my comment.

The girl – “We never dreamt of you dude.”

I was irritated and confused.  Confused that those people and that place seemed so familiar.  I stood up and said, “look!  This is a dream!”  And started flying around the room.  I learned how to fly from previous lucid dreams and it’s not as easy as it sounds.  It’s pure will power.

Then I flew out of the building and was surrounded by darkness.  Not evil, just cloudy and I was losing lucidity.

Me – “This dream sucks, I better wake myself up or I’ll never get any rest.”

I opened my “eyes” and was outside my house in my backyard.

I specifically remember opening my eyes, it’s such a strange experience when this happens.  It’s the second time this happened, when I think I’m opening my real eyes only to open my celestial eyes.  I was out of body.  I could feel the dampness in the air, the wind on my face.  I looked down and saw a holographic computer screen hovering in front of me.  It was long and rectangular.  So bright.  All around me was dark, because of night.  But the screen was so bright.  I blinked a few times just to be sure of what I was looking at.  A perfect rectangle of light surrounded by the dead of night.

“Well, this is new.”

Yep definitely a computer screen.  It had images on it, but I couldn’t comprehend any of it or see it clearly.  I was too much in awe, or in shock to understand it.

Then I realized that I was “holding” the screen in-between my hands.  Like it was such a natural and intuitive impulse, to put my hands out as if I were to clap really loud, but instead, conjure up an astral computer screen.  If I narrowed or widened the length in-between my hands, the screen would stretch or narrow.

“Whoa.”

This all happened moments after opening my celestial eyes and then I heard a voice.

Voice – “Michael.”

Then a pause.

Me thinking – “Well, that’s new too.  I never heard a voice before.  Maybe I’m being called on a mission?”

I looked down at the computer screen thinking it would give me instruction.  Is Michael in trouble and I have to save him?

Then the voice started talking again, clearly as plain as day.  That’s when I realized it wasn’t a voice from a spirit guide, but my audiobook!  I could hear it so vividly.  I can’t hear anything while I’m having a regular dream, or a lucid dream.  My auditory senses get cut-off completely but while out of body, I can hear everything clear as day.

Me – “Huh, interesting.”

Not that that little bit of info will ever apply to me in waking life, but yeah.  While having an out of body experience, you can hear everything going on around your sleeping body.

I was let down because I really thought I was being called out on my first mission to save somebody.  I was amped up for it and ready to go, but no.  The audiobook ended up bringing me back to my bedroom in my body and the experience was over.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking.  That I’m completely off my rocker.  Something is seriously wrong with my brain.  But I swear I’m as normal as they come other than fear of commitment.

The girl I fired the other day, she has serious mental problems.  She twitches, squints her eyes quickly, talks loud and is argumentative, defensive.  Can you get a visual of the type I’m talking about?  Or is she too rare of a breed to be like any other?

Anyway, she’s the only person I know who has legitimate mental issues and so I asked her a few weeks ago if she ever had a lucid dream.  I wanted to know if there’s a correlation between emotional imbalances and fucked up dream experiences.

Her – “I dream of my teeth falling out all the time, it’s sort of like a lucid dream.”

Me – “Have you ever had auditory hallucinations?  Do you hear things when you fall asleep that aren’t there?”

I forgot what she said (this happened weeks ago), but the answer was no.  At least, not comparable to what I’ve experienced.

Me – “Have you ever had an out of body experience?”

Her – “Not that I know of.”

She’s the craziest person I know, but she hasn’t experienced what I have.

My blog is getting full of this shit.  I’m almost to the point of being embarrassed by it.  No no, I AM at the point of being embarrassed by it.  I don’t talk about it to anyone outside my blog.  And I’m the type who NEVER gets embarrassed.  Or at least, I’m not easily.  That’s why I dance and sing the way I do.  But this…..this embarrasses me.

And I can’t stop this crazy new notion that I have.  This idea, becoming solidified into an actual belief, that my thoughts impact EVERYTHING.

I’ve written about it before – loads in fact.  That thoughts have a profound impact on reality.  But it was only thoughts and idea’s, nothing substantial.

I have no clients today.  It’s wonderful.  And I want to write about this so bad, all this garbage inside my head – where do I start?  But I also hate writing long rambling posts.  Posts where I transfix and lose my rationality.  Those posts embarrass me more than anything, more than my out of body experiences.

I’ve experienced, several times now, that we are the universe.  I hit that high point of moksha, the point where you understand everything – I hit it a few times while ingesting powerful psychedelics, and once from simple meditation before falling asleep.

When I was a high schooler, keeping a journal, I made it my mission to find out exactly who I am.  I peeled layer after layer, but it was like an onion.  I found no pit at the center.

Me thinking – “Maybe if I’m as honest as I possibly can be, than I can know myself?”

So I wrote as honestly and as candidly as I could muster and realized my true self can only be found in my intentions, and digging even deeper, intentions can be found in desires.  I came to the conclusion that there is no “me”, only what I desire.

I learned about buddhism soon after that.  I learned that buddhism teaches you how to let go of desire.

Me – “Than there wouldn’t be any “me” left!”

I understood this, and didn’t understand it at the same time.  I understood the impossibility of it.

Me – “If I desire not having desires, I hit a brick wall.”

It has to happen by accident, just like anything in life.  You have to let it go before it actually comes to you.  Ayahuasca kept repeating this over and over to me.

But why?  How?

Without desire, we learn that we are in fact, the universe.  Without the “me” that separates us from it (our one true veil), we’re able to see reality and not delusion.

I read an article about a man who thought he was going to die.  He was at war, his shelter was about to get bombed.  He accepted death and in doing so, experienced moksha.  He saw his life flash before his eyes and with complete clarity, seen how and why he ended up at there at that exact point.  All his doing, all his choice, subconsciously his making.  He experienced himself as the universe – he unknowingly directed his path.

Desiring life is the biggest desire we can not overcome, no matter how suicidal.  The only way out of it is through acceptance, just as that man did when he accepted death.

We desire because we fear and our only one fear is that of death, all other fears stem from it.  We stop desiring when we stop being afraid to die.

Suicidal people have always fascinated me.  Any of us are free to kill ourselves anytime we want, no big deal.  Just opt out of this life.  You’ll be forgotten just like 99.99% of everyone else who ever lived, so why should it matter?  So if it doesn’t matter, why not live?  I mean, since we’re all going to die at some point anyway, why not ride it out to see what happens?

When I look at it from this view, suicide seems irrational, illogical.  It seems silly like a child throwing a tantrum.  I’ve always viewed it like this and I think that’s why I don’t take anything seriously because, well, who the fuck cares, right?  What does it matter?  I mean really.

Suicidal people have trouble accepting things.  When they try to control, fix, or change something, they only get themselves in deeper.  It’s karma.  When doing things out of fear, you dig yourself deeper.  Just like what happened with my business.

If we believe we can fix something, there wouldn’t be any fear of it.  We just do it and that’s that.  It’s a test, like Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey.  How far can you push yourself?  How much do you believe in yourself?  How far are you willing to go?

Finding your story is incredibly cathartic, I’ll save that for another post.  We should all know our story.

Anyway, where was I?

When I was just learning about this, I may have still been in high school, I don’t remember, but I thought if I purified my desires, I can be a good person.  If I kept my intentions at a healthy level of care and respect for others, I’ll be okay in life.  But then I dug deeper.  Why do I want to be good?  To be better than everyone else?  To obtain admiration?

It’s like organized religion.  Finding a way to one-up the next guy as a show of being more “tolerant” or more “forgiving” than any other organized belief system.  And it’s not even a belief system, not really.  People of organized religion don’t believe in god, they have faith in him and imo, faith ain’t worth shit.  That’s why I love the Jews.  They’re instructed to actually believe.

My saintly decision to be “good” was a sterile systematic approach to place myself higher than everyone else.  Like my shit don’t stink.  I was playing to the tune of my own organized religion.

That’s when I decided I had enough.  I stopped digging.  It was fruitless.  I hit a brick wall because of the impossibility of always having sheisty ulterior motives.  I couldn’t get over myself and my need to be the best, my need to control everything simply because I am the best/better than my counterparts.

Because as long as I was the best, I could control my level of fear.  I was emotionally stable because I was able to control my fear level and I did it through thinking that I was the best around.

 

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It’s now the next day.  I had to end that post because I got a call from work telling me I had a client scheduled at 1:00 and it was already 1:10.  I stripped off my sweaty PJ’s, flung on pants and shirt and literally, I was there at work in 6 minutes flat.

Me – “I didn’t know I had a client.”

Employee – “She booked it this morning and I forgot to tell you.”

Me -“I’m still wearing yesterday’s underwear.”

Employee starts laughing.

My client, when she was laying on the massage table – “Do you do reiki?”

Me – “I don’t, I’m not much of a follower in it but I know a woman who does it.  She comes here and takes clients.  It’s the same price as a massage.”

Client – “That’s strange because I sense you’re more than a massage therapist.  There’s something about you.”

I swear to god, I’m not making this shit up.  She actually said that.

Me – “I’m a believer in other things.  I kind of suffer from out of body experiences.”

Client – “Me too!  This sounds weird but once I thought I was flying down a worm tunnel.”

Me – “Oh yeah, I went down a few of those too.”

Before I went in to massage her, I was feeling nuts.  I needed to feel normal again by talking to someone with similar experiences and guess what happened?  6 minutes later, I was massaging a lady who didn’t think I was crazy.

This is just one small example of how my thoughts been effecting things lately.

A few weeks ago, the toilet at work exploded.  Well, it didn’t explode, but the tank cracked right down the center and it happened at night when nobody was there.  So the damn thing was running for probably 8 hours before my employee walked in and seen the mess.  There was about 2 inches of water on the bathroom floor and it leaked into one of the massage rooms completely soaking it thru and thru.

I was at the eye doctor when this happened, sitting in the waiting room waiting to get called in.

Employee – “It’s flooded in here!  It’s a complete flood!”

I asked her to take pictures and send them to me, I asked if it smelled, if she can turn off the valve…etc.  I kept my shit together and called my Dad.  He just so happens to have a wet-vac.     We got everything cleaned up and next thing I knew, I was staring down the bowl of a brand new toilet.  I was praying for a new toilet!  The old one was stained and gross.

Me thinking – “I kind of want this thing to break.  How the hell can a toilet break though?”

If it broke, it would come out of my landlords pocket.  Not mine.

And that’s just what happened.  The day before the explosion, I scrubbed it clean and dropped one of those blue 1000 flushes in the tank wishing the damn thing would bust because it still looked dirty.

My esthetician, I prayed she’d get another job and last month she did just that.  Now she’s only here one day a week, if that.  But that’s hardly considered anything special since it was bound to happen.

I wished one of my therapists to work more so I wouldn’t have to rely on crazy Cara, and lo’ and behold…..

I wished Cara gave me a good reason to fire her, and she did.  She bitched out two of my employee’s before I fired her, which I didn’t even know about until yesterday.

I feel like if I don’t “need” something, if I don’t have a sticky attachment to whatever it is I’m griping about and instead just ride it out and soldier on, shit unfurls on its own.  But it’s happening expeditiously as of late.

I wrote my master plan, remember?  The one I took a picture of and posted?  Yeah well, part of the plan was to hire another therapist by October to help with those upgraded couples massages I want to sell again.  But it’s hard finding decent therapists to work as independent contractors.  Anyway, one of my IC’s is friends with an outstanding therapist who’s looking to move here and find a new job, can you guess which month?  October.  She’s going to start working here in October.  Just as I planned!

I can go on and on with this stuff…..the more I think about it, the more coincidences I can write about.  But I’ll stop here.

I just binge watched Orange is the New Black.  I watched 7 episodes all in one sitting, but I started watching it at 9:30 at night.  You can imagine what time it is now.  But it doesn’t matter.  In a few days I’ll be suffering from jet-lag.  I’m going to the forest festival in Anchorage to celebrate the fourth of July.  I leave on Wednesday and today is Monday morning.  Well, more like I leave tomorrow night, really really late tomorrow night.

I’m bringing my laptop, screw it.

Damn, what else did I want to write?

In my video game, The Witcher 3, there’s an old man sitting on the side of a trodden path that says, “Where’s your road wend?”

 

Damn, I want to write more about attachment and desire.  If I don’t write about it now, I’ll forget.  But I’m so freaking tired!

I’ll just write real quick that no, you can’t let go of all desire.  Not unless you devote your life to meditation or do psychedelics until moksha pours itself in to cement.  According to ayahuasca, it’s impossible to maintain this state for long.

But……you can let go of the things you can.  Even just a little bit of it, let it go.  And keep letting more go bit by bit.

Desire is not attachment, they come and go like cravings.  Attachment is when things get sticky.  The stuff that defines you and can’t live without.

Bit by bit, I’ve stripped myself of all fear about losing my business.  It’s not going to happen, not ever.  And that’s that.  And if it does, I start anew.  A tiring long road?  Possibly yes.  But it’s more tiring living in fear than it is to keep getting back up.

This is a state of mind that I trained for, it doesn’t come naturally or easy.  Severe worry and anxiety can break you into it.

 

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“Atman is Brahman” and I Fired an Employee! All in todays topic of Melanieslifeonline

I’m beyond prostrated.  Debilitated, wasted, spent, and bleary-eyed.

I’ve been running around jagged this month and even got myself an exhaustion head cold.

Yesterday I fired an employee for driving me crazy.

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That stuff she wrote about not being able to change her schedule is bullshit.  And I never picked up or stolen her hours – I don’t want to work!  I haven’t been on the schedule for probably a year now.  She is literally crazy and delusional and I mean that in kind, not being mean here.

It felt good firing her though, ain’t gonna lie.  She texted me every 5 minutes since she started working for me and honestly I’m surprised I let her stay for as long as I did.  She called one of my favorite clients evil!  She openly admitted to stealing from her other job!  Not to mention clients don’t like her, my employee’s don’t like her.

She’s an indépendant contractor, so I don’t have to worry about any repercussions.

Today is my first day off in what feels like forever.  A day off where I have nothing planned.  A day off where I don’t have paperwork or “to do” lists.  These are the days I live for and hopefully in time, will be all that is left.

I’ve been sitting on a blog post for a while now.  One that I wanted to write about so bad but couldn’t find the time.

After I ate that psychedelic taffy, I went on a hippie forum to investigate other people’s experience with the “oneness” and read a post from a man who mentioned “Atman is Brahman.”

It’s Hindu, of course.  The closest religion to truth.

Atman is another word for soul.  We all have an Atman including animals and plants.

Brahman is “world soul” or “cosmic soul.”  Basically, what we think God is.  It is timeless, eternal, omniscient, and controls the show.

Hindu’s believe that Atman is Brahman.  They are indistinguishable.  But our individual selves can be sheathed in a veil, one that see’s hatred, envy, and fear.  We separate ourselves from the divine, and not the other way around.  Most organized religions separate us from the divine as a way to label and judge lesser people, or “evil” people.  Without those evil people, saints wouldn’t exist.  And without that separation, religions would be less permissible to kill for their beliefs.

The Us vs Them mentality makes us feel united and protected in an extended family of peers that share the same belief.  To stave off feeling alone and meaningless.

But with Hindu, they greet others with Namaste which means “the divine in me recognized the divine in you.”

My grandpa used to live in a cottage in Rhode Island and his neighbors are basically like family to us.  One of his neighbors has a son that my brother hung out with yesterday.  This man has DMT, the god molecule or whatever they’re calling it.  He smoked it and was taken out of his body (the son, not my brother).  But I think this is my next step into learning more.  I need to meet this guy.  According to my bro, me and him make a good match.  The guy sounds exactly like me.

I’m not looking to date, but I’m definitely interested in what he’s peddling.

“Atman is Brahman” is exactly what I experienced with the taffy.  I always intuitively known it to be true, but this was the first time I really understood it.  On an experience kind of level.

Why is all this stuff important to me?  I’ve always searched for answers since I was a kid and never understood how anyone can go about their lives, living day to day without knowing what the point is.

Me as a child – “You work and live in a box with other people working and living in boxes next to you.  Why?  Don’t you care why?”

It scared me that they didn’t care.  I understood that they were just too busy to care.  I promised myself at a young age to never get trapped.  I know it sounds like bullshit, but I swear to the gods that I remember it like yesterday.  “Never get trapped Mel, don’t become them.”

Okay, enough on that.  Explaining to you why I am how I am is not important and makes for a shitty read.

Superpositions

I love superpositions!  I first learned about them when I was 18 and attempted to read “An Elegant Universe” by Brian Green.  I had to read it over and over again because my brain couldn’t comprehend it.

Basically, any subatomic particle such as photons, electrons and atoms, exist in a superposition state until they are witnessed.  The “witnessing” is called Decoherence.  And Superposition means to exist in all possible infinite locations at the same time.

Basically the world acts crazy while you’re not watching it but as soon as you turn around to look, it goes back to normal.  Like the toys in Toy Story 2.

Is it only human conscious that can decohere particles or can machines do it to?  Apparently machines can also do it, which means our world can still exist if the AI’s in Battlestar Gallactica win.  Physical reality won’t disintegrate and fly off into space as long as machines are here to decohere the subatomic particles.

Which makes me wonder, if Atman really is Brahman, how can machines possess our unique ability to measure the unmeasurable?  Shouldn’t that just be the Atman’s job?  Or should we factor in the superposition of time itself?  If time is superimposed, maybe it knew we were watching the whole time, or will watch it?

Or we can approach this a bit more scientifically and note that these machines, in order to detect and measure a superimposed particle, has to bounce photons off the wave particle thereby breaking down its wave function and rendering it to particle form.  So, both humans and machines can decohere probable objects into spacetime reality.

There’s another cool example about superpositioned particles…..

If you have two identical particles that were nurtured in identical environments and then try to measure them, they won’t be identical anymore.  Because they existed in the smeared superposition world of empty possibilities, when measured, they were forced to become, to “choose”(if you will), one thing to be.  Even though they should’ve been identical, they weren’t.  They had to make a choice to become something.

Which enforces my theorem of all of us having a choice.  We are not a product of our environment.  But if subatomic particles can choose to be something, than is there a limit on what can possess an atman?  Can individual subatomic particles also contain their very own atman?  Albeit tiny and obscure?  If so, why?

It’s like looking into a fractal, you know?  There’s the Brahman, the big guy, then when you zoom in and keep going down and down, you see all the little facets getting smaller and smaller, never ending.  It that the Atman?  Never ending?  If so, where am I?  Is it like a pyramid scheme?  All the little subatomic Atmans obeying me?  Not being in existence without me viewing them?  But then again, I wouldn’t be in existence without them either.  If this really is a fractal world we’re in, I’m made up of those tiny Atmans.

It’s fun to think about this stuff on my day off.  But I’m running out of steam and thinking about grabbing something to eat and spending the rest of the day in front of my video game.

But I do have to say, particles and waves are like people.  Particle people see what’s there while wave people see the possibilities.  Hokey?  Yeah, I thought so too.  But if you combine the two, magic happens.

I thought up an excellent idea for a new book.  It’s called “When God Visits a Shrink…”  It’s about a regular guy who goes to a shrink after winning the lotto because he’s suffering from delusions of grandeur and is scared that his thoughts alone can wreak havoc on the world.  He’s becoming paranoid and panicked.  He’s diagnosed with solipsism syndrome, but as the story progresses, I’ll include all my philosophical idea’s that I learned from ayahuasca and the pot taffy.  And it’ll read like one of my debates with Rational Brain.

There’s an old iconic philosopher, I forgot who, Socrates or Plato or one of them guys, who said the best way into philosophizing is through debate.  The best idea’s are brought forth in a question and answer format.  The idea of God going to a shrink is the perfect scenario for one of these types of discussions!  I’m really juiced up about it.

My parents just came home.  It’s 4PM and I’m laying in bed in my pajama’s.  They brought home chicken.  Yum chicken!  I haven’t eaten all day.

Anyway, Trat Tvam Asi and all that jazz, I really need to zone for the rest of the day with my big bucket of chicken and game controller.

At first I was curious.  Curious to know more about reality and why we’re here, but now I’m just trying to get one up on the universe, you know?  Now that I got a glimpse of it.  If I had more days like this, once I get my fill of relaxing and laying about, and write my fill of the garbage that’s in my head – I want to one up the universe.  Experience a little slice of magic.

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Psychedelics and Awakening

I went to a party last weekend on my friends farm.  She had a groovy band play, hula hoops, and any drug I wanted.

A girl I knew was handing out her homemade pot taffy.

Her – “Smell this shit man, go on smell it!  Incredible right?”

She shoved her taffy under my nose, her eyes half baked.  She was sitting on the ground cross-legged in front of me.  Five minutes later, she was incapacitated.

Me – “I think I’ll save it for later.”

Her – “Don’t eat it all at once!  Don’t do it!”

I grabbed it and stashed it for later.

Later came last night.

I ate the whole thing, naturally.  It was just a little strip of the stuff, so how was I supposed to know?  The girl who made it could’ve been incapacitated from the bottle of whiskey that never left her hand, not a silly little strip of taffy?

It was the taffy.  Definitely the taffy.

I ate it around 10PM last night and I was tripping balls up until 6AM this morning.  I ate it to help me sleep!

I looked at the clock and thought to myself – “It’s been almost two hours, I guess this stuff’s not going to work.”

I shrugged my shoulders and got ready to call it a night, but then it hit me.  Seconds after saying it wasn’t working, it started.

I didn’t want to turn the tv off, it was the only thing holding my brain together.

My muscle’s twitched, I was feeling coldness in my chest.  I covered my head with my pillow, I don’t know why but I thought it would help shut up my thoughts.

Me – “I’m going to die tonight.  I can’t believe that I’m going to die from a little strip of taffy!”

I could barely move.  I definitely couldn’t walk.  I reached for my phone to search how to come down from a pot high – this action took everything I had in me to execute.

And my searched results came up:

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The article in the middle is what helped me.  I wasn’t going to die.  It sure felt like I was dying, but I wasn’t.  I kept this thought in my head.

Everything became mucky, I couldn’t think.  I felt like I was in a heavy skin sack.  Every thought, sensation, light, sound, was amplified inside my concrete skin sack.

I tried watching the show again, Humans, on Amazon prime.  It’s pretty good.  It helped me focus.

My jaw was tightening, my chin moving around every which way.  All my thoughts globbed into one sinister, evil, pulsating creature.

Me thinking – “How can I be so afraid?  After everything thats happened to me, how can I still be afraid?”

I knew it was fear causing my distress, but I didn’t know how to stop it.  My rational brain was no match for it.

Then my show stopped playing.  I was short bandwidth.

Me thinking – “Oh god my brain will explode without that show!”

But I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t do anything about it.  My legs wouldn’t work.

I started staring at a poster on my wall.  I bought a poster from an artist a few years ago at the Vibes.

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I started seeing images in that poster that aren’t there.  Perfect images of faces, changing expressions depending on what I wanted to see.  Whatever image I wanted to see, I simply had to look for it and it manifested itself perfectly.  Dogs, cats, a benevolent loving face.  And when I wanted to see a demon, there he was horns and all, but he wasn’t frightening.

That’s when it hit me; I have full control.  I can see demons or angels, it’s my choice.  I realized that fear is what stops us from seeing clearly.  Fear stops us from thinking clearly and taking control.

An image popped in my head of a tall glass cup.  Inside this glass cup were demons, boiling water, scary thoughts and images.  Everything agitating.  The only way anyone can escape it is  to not be afraid of it.  I didn’t need to be afraid of it because I was in control.  The people who aren’t in control, float to the bottom.

Once I was out of the glass cup, I was back in my ayahuasca enlightenment trance.  It was very similar to when I did ayahuasca, only not as “clean”.  I was once again connected to infinite knowledge, but I was being dragged through the dirt.  There was no purging like with ayahuasca, so that has something to do with it.  All the junk was still in me.  And I wasn’t blessed by anyone, my room wasn’t blessed, the woman who made the taffy didn’t bless it first.

The sole purpose to bless something is to rid it of fear.  The smoke is symbolic.  It doesn’t matter if you’re burning sage, a candle, different types of incense, it doesn’t matter.  What matters is the person who does the blessing.  This is from an insight I had from the taffy.

I was having a spiritual experience unprotected.  My thoughts and demons kept clawing at me, distracting me, pulling my focus away.  But I kept remembering about my painting.  How I can choose.

I learned even MORE from this experience than I did with ayahuasca.  Maybe not more, but I dove even deeper into the mysteries of life.  And how we are all connected.

Everything from my ayahuasca experience was relived.  It was reintroduced to me.  Only this time around, more was revealed.  This time, I was able to experience “oneness”.

If there is a god, he’s not looking at us.  Because if he were to look at us, even for a quick glance, we’d have no free will.  He’s that powerful.  Whatever he’s expecting to see while looking at us, he will see.  Simply because he’s god.  Like an egg incubating.  He’s not to touch or look at us until we reach maturity, otherwise there would be mass hysteria.

“Whose ever belief is strongest.  Whose ever belief is strongest.”

That kept repeating in my head.  Like an ending to a prayer, or a mantra.  It means that anything is possible as long as you believe it’s possible.  But since we are all connected, whoever has the stronger belief wins the pot (no pun).  It’s very important to stand up for yourself when faced with darkness and fear, other peoples or your own.

You are challenged by your own fears.  They manifest as opponents or obstacles.  People who don’t see your potential, who don’t believe in you.  Spontaneous bad luck events.  They are manifestations of your own fears and these people (or events) are blessings in disguise.  They are key players in your life.

It’s like you’re sitting at the bottom of the demon glass cup.  These people who don’t believe in you, or obstacles causing you pain, are the keys to getting yourself out of the cup.  It’s just that nobody wants to leave it because it’s easier to sit there and stew rather than it is to face your fears.  And these people and events are only happening because of your fear.  Your inability to accept them.

“Whose ever belief is strongest.”

Me – “How do I believe in myself?”

Taffy – “You must know yourself.”

Nothing is real.  The only truth is that there is no truth.  What I see and believe, is not the same as what someone else see’s and believes.  And all of it’s true.  Everyone is correct and because nobody is wrong, there is no truth.

About the “oneness”…….

Oneness means that there is no God, it’s just you and me orchestrating everything.  Because if there were a god, there wouldn’t be oneness.  Having a god implies that he’s separate from us, so how can everything be “one”?

So again, just like ayahuasca, the taffy told me that there is a god, but no god.

My ayahuasca trip taught me that we are here to evolve, the taffy taught me we’re evolving towards unity.  Why?  I don’t know.

We are all god, all the same person.  Just with different life experiences, different brain chemistries and heredity.  But if I was born a different person, let’s say I was born Gandhi, I wouldn’t be me, I would actually be Gandhi.  We are all the same soul is what I’m trying to say.  There is no “Me”, just my unique DNA coding and life experiences.

I’ll finish this post tomorrow….I’m exhausted.

It’s now the next day.

I’m not saying that we don’t all have individual souls, because we do.  I actually seen mine when I had my OBE in my bedroom.  It’s just that the stuff my soul is made from, is the same stuff your soul is made from.  It’s the same stuff, the same soul.

And once you get out of the demon glass, answers start pouring in.

When I was tripping balls, I learned how alone all of us really are.  Since we all play off each other, fears are reflected, projected, manifested, the most fearful of us can infect the most loving of us and there’s no higher power to break-up the party.  No god or over-seer of authority to smooth everything out and keep us in check.  To keep us behaved and disciplined.

Our moral compass is there for survival purposes, and not a loving gift from god, but years of evolution to create.

We are utterly alone.  One massive soul body, fractured to pieces at war with itself.  If I was born an ISIS, I would be an ISIS.  There’s nothing special about my soul that differs from a member of ISIS.

Me – “It’s so simple, how can no one else see it?!”  (said to myself while tripping balls).

Anyway, when I realized how alone we all are, I started to plummet into the void.  Into the darkness of no purpose and no hope.  I had to remember my poster on the wall, we have a choice, fear is the illusion.

But it was perfectly clear to me at the time I was tripping, that one persons belief can affect others even if no words are uttered.  That’s how connected we are.  We can feel what’s happening to friends and family from across the world if we really tune in.

But then again, the only truth is that there is no truth.  The only truth is what you believe.  At least, that’s the rule of thumb in this limited dimension we’re in.

We create what we see and there’s nothing but potential, no truth.

Oh well, my game literally just finished downloading.  I bought the expansion, Hearts of Stone, for the Witcher 3.

Will I ever eat the taffy again?  Yeah, probably.

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