My eyes get burned by the intensity of existence,

I can’t quite see any shapes in the blinding luminescence;

Shield my eyes with my hand, 

are they an exit or an entrance?

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

I intend on making this website a little bit more like a journal or notebook. I want an outlet, and whether or not the entries are refined and poetic no longer matters as much to me.

I’d like to write a story about something that recently happened to me.

About a week ago, I microdosed psychedelic mushrooms. At least, that was the intent: what actually ended up happening was quite an intense trip, complete with all the works: fearing for my sanity, going through intense emotional upheaval, and, in case I haven’t mentioned it already, fearing for my fucking sanity.

The trip was sorrowful. It felt like I was mourning for the sanity that I never had. The feeling was like living an entire life lost at sea and desperately craving land, but knowing you’ll never have it. It felt like desperately craving something solid to hold onto, but being condemned to a life of nebulousness and confusion, all at the mercy of the hand of God. It felt like being stuck in a hell loop of setting sail in a boat on a turbulent sea against my will as I left behind all of my loved ones who watched from land. A living nightmare. My reality being a nightmare.

And yet, something there felt saner than sane. In the insanity was a greater form of sanity. Somehow, the nonlinear reality had an underlying linearity more linear than the former linear reality. In the insanity, knowing; in the sanity, delusion.

I keep seeing in my mind’s eye Hawking in his film as he slowly faded into sickness, yet progressed as a luminary in the realm of physics. A young man with a gift that allowed for a visionary mind, slowly becoming more unable to cope with physical reality on his own as his body betrayed him. He embarked into higher realities and new frontiers of astonishing truth and illumination with the vehicle of his mind; all the while, his physical vehicle degraded.

Consciously or unconsciously, I guess I always saw myself as a savant in some type of way. At the beginning of my awakening, a symbol kept getting produced by the fornication of my conscious and unconscious minds: the autistic man who could take a relatively short helicopter ride over a city, then draw it all with incredible, seemingly-inhuman accuracy by memory on a wall hours later. The idea is of being a person with critical deficiencies in one area — so deficient as to tremendously reduce one’s ability to function in the social, cultural, and societal framework at hand — yet is light-years ahead in another. So ahead in whatever area this may be as a matter of fact, as to seem superhuman. Unable to cope with the mundane, yet able to achieve what seems impossible. Genius and inhuman in one way, yet so deficient in another as to be grounds for medical diagnosis, whether it be from the DSM-V due to mental illness, or a general physician’s handbook due to physical illness.

This is where I have sometimes seen my life heading. A new world dawns on me, and as much as I have tried to still function in the old one and grasp for some solid foundation, all it does is disintegrate into sand in my hand and slip through my fingers.

How long can a terminally ill patient hold on to life, and delay the inevitable death that lays before them? When exactly are they supposed to let go? I do not want to die, and yet paradoxically, to die in this way seems to be the only way I can truly live.

That is the life path of the Pisces, isn’t it? Of the Neptunian? A sacrifice must be made in order to give life to another. Which life will I choose? Spirit or matter? It is either the desire of the fish who desires to swim back Home and desires Spirit, or the desire of the carnal, worldly fish who desires the artifice of the physical realm. Neither desire can be really, truly satisfied without letting the other die. To paraphrase what the great teacher known as Christ once said, we cannot have two masters. No sheep can follow two shepherds at the same time.

How difficult a choice it is when choosing to follow the true master means living as, or at least feeling like, a pariah. How difficult a choice it is when letting one fish die means dying to who your loved ones knew you as.

Anyway, I’ve gotten incredibly ahead of myself. 

As I said, I truly feared for my sanity during the trip. And, in this time period of about a week since the trip, I’ve felt incredible unstable. To the point where things have felt truly shadowy, as if I was approaching a precipice with a deep, deep dark abyss on the other side. It felt like the onset of true instability that had the capability of being the onset of a severe mental breakdown if things did not change — and fast.

And then I had the dream. 

I do not remember how it started. All I remember is how it ended — which is all that is really important.

Imagine the dream as someone explaining to me a description of somebody’s life in the form of a series of metaphorical stages representing their evolution through life.

I remember the last two stages only, and they were something as follows:

“And then he became as tall as a giant. He was massive, like a tower, big, incredible.”

This felt like great success or notoriety. Great power, status, becoming larger than life.

Next, they said, “But then he slowly began to collapse in on himself. He kept folding in on himself, until one day, he vanished.”

I asked what caused his vanishing. 

Clear as day, and firm, grim, and jarring, I heard “pancreatic cancer.”

Then, as I woke up, and fully came to, I felt a horrible stabbing pain and vibrating sensation in my upper right abdomen. I waited maybe 30 seconds for it to subside, which it eventually fully did, and then went and brought my cats into my room — because holy shit was that scary.

I was uncertain about what it meant. For the next few days, I struggled with different possible meanings, and different possible people that it could represent.

However, this morning, I woke up around 4 am full of energy. I halved my dosage of Ashwaghanda last night, which had been helping me sleep, so this was not an unexpected reaction. I tried to go back to sleep for some time, but had no success, so I eventually gave up and decided to listen to music.

I looked up a specific song on Spotify that for some reason was playing in my head. I found it, and played it, but saw that a few songs under it on the search list was a song by Syd Barrett.

The name was familiar. Wasn’t that the guy in Pink Floyd who went crazy from taking too much acid? To double check, I looked up the name. Sure enough, it was him. I didn’t know he ever released his own music, so I decided to give it a play. It was called No Man’s Land, the same name as the song I had originally looked up.

While I listened to the pleasant strumming of his guitar and resonance of his voice, I read up online about the guy’s story out of curiosity.

Then, I read something that gave me a shock.

Mentioned under Syd Barrett’s cause of death was — you guessed it — pancreatic cancer.

The rest is history. Many of you know his story. As it was put in Shine On You Crazy Diamond, he “reached for the secret too soon.”

Figuratively, he became as big as a giant. Both in a societal manner, due to his great success and fame, and in a cosmic manner, due to his psychedelic adventures that allowed for immersion with the cosmos. I’ve heard it said that we are as small as the things that annoy us, but we are also as large as the things that we adore and believe in. Through his excessive use of LSD, his perception expanded, and thus, so did he. He began to immerse into the cosmos, figuratively becoming larger, or giant, in size.

Now, the great expansiveness that psychedelic drugs provide can certainly be addicting and can definitely be unhealthy. There is nothing wrong with reaching cosmic consciousness using psychedelics, but there are healthy and unhealthy ways to go about it. Syd didn’t do it in a healthy way — at all. It is said that meditation is like climbing the mountain of enlightenment, and psychedelics are like a temporary helicopter ride up there. And clearly, for some, the mind is not prepared to comprehend and balance what there is to be seen. It is reported that he took obscene amounts of acid, both in terms of frequency and dosage, and his mind buckled under the pressure.

So, he began to collapse… he began to fold in on himself.

From his status as a larger-than-life — or giant — rockstar, he eventually deteriorated into catatonia, and, becoming, *ahem*, less than functional, he had to leave the band. He became a recluse, becoming smaller in size, until he disappeared from the public eye.

And then, he finally died — or vanished — from pancreatic cancer.

…

Spirit, the warning is clear, and I thank you for it. His tale will certainly serve as caution for me. I am not invincible, and psychedelic drugs are incredibly potent. If I wish to reach the top of the mountain of enlightenment, I must climb it — not take a helicopter ride up.

Psychedelic medicine does not seem to serve me at this point in time. I will not collapse. I will not fold into myself. I will be responsible. I will stay sturdy. I will be discerning and wise. I will take things slow.

Thanks, Spirit.

He was just a boy when he knew he was special. Different. That he wanted more.

That marked the beginning of his dark night.

For, from that moment on, for the rest of his adolescence into his early adulthood, there would be a battle — internal and external — between his truth and their lies.

For the rest of his life, he would be in a fight with their chains. Born a warrior, there was no other choice. The true desires of his heart were in direct conflict with what they wanted of him.

And he would try to satisfy them. For so long.

Until the pain grew too much to bear.

He wanted off of this prison bus.

He wanted out of this society and its lies.

He wanted to go. To leave. To disappear.

And so began the plans.

The plans to leave. To find truth, anywhere it might be. 

He just knew it wasn’t here. In this country. In its rings.

The ship was sinking, and he needed on another. He almost stayed in the water and allowed himself to dissolve into oblivion forever.

He wanted them to believe in him.

Would they?

Or would the cord need to be cut forever?

He wanted to leave them behind. To leave humanity behind in its brokenness. To completely embrace the divine. 

…

I can’t live in this society anymore.
I need to move away forever. To know more. To see more. To live life big. Without their limitations.

He wanted to break free from their chains.
Most of all, he wanted her blessing. But she was the one most keen on holding his chains.

But she was only delaying the inevitable.

See, we always knew it was going to come to this. We’ve tried to resist the truth, to blind ourselves to it, but we always knew this was to happen. There was never a way I was going to make it in this world. I was always meant for something more.

We can keep delaying the inevitable, or you can let me fly. Let me heal.

The call of the divine is too strong. I cannot remain here much longer. It’s time for me to go. Let me fly, let me be free. 

I am meant for so much more. This society cannot hold me. This prison cell. The monotony, the routine, the lifelessness. Send me away. Send me to a place where they live in spirit. Where they are healthy. Send me away from the sickness and to a place of health and freedom.

Send me to a place where I can connect with the Earth. Where I can connect with its rhythms. Where I can be pure of heart, and live with the others pure of heart. Where I can connect with the cosmos in an unlimited way. Where I can connect with myself in an unlimited way. Where mother Gaia radiates her endless love. 

Take me away from the falsehood. Take me away from ego. Take me away from these soiled sheets. Let me sleep on the dirt if it means being away from here, they’re cleaner than your lavender-scented-detergent-washed, stupid motherfucking sheets.

Bury me alive if you have to. You already have. 

Take me away from here. Let me live. Let me come back to life. I cannot survive here. This world is not for me. 

Give me liberty, or give me death.
Give me truth, or give me death.
Give me life, or give me death.

Give me love.

It’s not here to be given to me.

That is why I must go.

This place does not have what I need.

See, what I need is not something tangible.

How dare you demand I make my living here when we know man shall not live by bread alone?

What I need is not physical. I do not need material wealth and abundance. I seek food for the spirit. I am starving.

My body is engorged, bloated, stuffed to the brim by pint after pint of ice cream but my spirit is starving, my mind running races on a hamster wheel.

Take me off this wheel.

Give me what I truly need.

It’s not here.
Send me where I can find it. 

Get me away from here. Let me find it. 

He was just a boy when he knew he was special. Different. That he wanted more.

That marked the beginning of his dark night.

How is it that when he found his inner light, things seemed to get darkest?

It was only when he found his torch that the tunnel walls were illuminated. Then could he see, in contrast with his light, the hopelessness of the seemingly infinite darkness that surrounded him.

He made his way through those tunnels for years, unaware that there was an outside world. Sometimes his torch went dark, and he would even forget that he was in a tunnel system. His mind would fill in the darkness with horrifying images, and then it was him against the twists and turns of the tunnel system that was his mind.

After many years, he finally found a pothole.

The Sun was pouring through.

EUREKA!, he shouted. He set up camp here. Worshipping the light. Learning from it. Sometimes, he’d catch glimpses of conversation from the people above passing by. Some became aware of him shouting for help, and would offer him their words of encouragement.

He brought other stragglers in the tunnel there, proving to them that the outside world existed.

Some believed. Some, though, thought that it was just a trick their mind was playing on them. They had known the tunnels for so long that they could not even momentarily entertain the idea of a world beyond.

The others became renewed in faith and enthusiasm, though, too, just like him.

Some were prone to embrace the light, while others were too attached to the darkness of the tunnel walls, too comfortable in the shadows, the surety of the solid concrete walls.

Not him. He knew he could escape, and he would do it, no matter what. And that pothole kept his faith on fire, burning with the heat of the Sun pouring through.

But, eventually, he realized that in order to escape the tunnel system, he had to carry on, for greater lights than what peeked through the pothole lay beyond….

“Break free from the trident!“

…were my true father’s words to me.

Break free from the TRY-dent…

There is no try, only do.

If All is Mind,

and if our world is Imaginary,

then should Creation not be effortless?

Should Creation not be as effortless as Imagination?

Imagination is effortless. One does not try to imagine. Imagination actually only happens in states of relaxation. One must be relaxed in order to imagine to the best of their ability.

Therefore, if the key to freedom lies in our imagination, is our key to freedom not, then, relaxation?

Is true freedom not the ability to create freely? Therefore, is true freedom not the ability to imagine freely?

‘Break free from the trident’ is a reminder that imagination is effortless. In order to break free from our shackles, we must imagine it to be so. We must imagine the reality we desire. How can one create without imagining? We must have a free imagination in order to create what we desire. God created in his IMAGE-ination. Imagination is our God-given and God-like ability.

You are imagining your shackles. Instead, imagine your freedom.

This process is effortless — like a Chinese finger trap, the moment we stop resisting, we will be free.

If you are imagining that you must try for something to be so, you are imagining limits upon yourself. To imagine the need to ‘try’ means to imagine that there is the possibility of failure.

This is why there is no try, and only do. To let go of the idea ‘try’ is to let go of the idea of limitations. And this is a realignment with truth, as the limit of our ability to create is equivalent to the limit of our ability to imagine: there is none.

Either create, or do not. Or, in other words, either imagine, or do not.

If imagination and creation are the same, and one does not need to try to imagine, then one does not need to try to create.

And if trying is counterproductive to imagination, then trying is counterproductive to creation.

Trying is then counterproductive to the manifestation of your ideal life. The very idea of needing to try has its foundations in the possibility of failure, in the idea of our limits, of which we have none. If you are caught up in trying to manifest your ideal life, then you are caught up in the idea and feeling that you cannot have it. Therefore, that is what will manifest!

The only way to escape the Chinese Finger Trap is to relax.

Do it.

SpongeBob Squarepants and Patrick Star should be your primary spiritual teachers.

Why?

To begin, watch this episode:

What we are taught here is the principle of Divine Nonchalance, which is not only complete trust but also complete knowing that everything that is needed will be provided to us.

It is also the principle of the Law of Attraction and Manifestation, or, in other words, As WithIN so WithOUT (what is outside will reflect what is inside, and vice versa).

They show us that vibrating abundance, and being it, attracts just that to you.

Abundance exists first in the heart, and then in the material. Create abundance in the Above — in your spirit — and then it will “fall from the sky” into the Below — physical reality.

Watch how Squidward operates as The Fool in this, serving as comedic relief. He has the mindset of lack, and attracts that. He represents the un-alchemized and un-realized self, which perpetuates its own suffering, and attracts it.

Meanwhile, SpongeBob and Patrick live in their own fucking fantasy land!

Yet, is it truly a fantasy land? If it were a fantasy land, would their supposed “fantastical thinking” materialize right in front of them?

They also teach us that, sometimes, we do MOST by doing NOTHING, and TRUSTING.

These magical beings ask the Magic Conch what to do to escape the forest.

They are told, DO NOTHING.

They do.

Then suddenly, infinite abundance literally falls from the heavens and blesses them with everything they need.

Even in situations that seem hopeless, in which we think we should be taking the most action, we benefit from just being.

SpongeBob and Patrick are excellent spiritual teachers!

When we stop trying, and instead embrace the heaven that exists within, it manifests.

SpongeBob and Patrick do not try. There is absolutely no resistance in what they are doing. There is no try, only do. Only being. It’s the easiest fucking thing on the planet, what they are doing. It is our natural state. This life teaches us that things have to be hard. They don’t. We are taught fear. It’s not real.

Do nothing, folks. Do nothing.

What defines a science? 

Oxford says that a science is “the systematic study of the structure and behaviour of the physical and natural world through observation and experiment.”

Many believe that we live in a purely linear, mechanistic universe. Therefore, something that is argued, is that a science must be linear, causal, and mechanistic. It must work like a machine; put in the value x, and you will get y. This is because those who believe that the universe abides by strict physical, mechanical laws, will choose sciences that reflect such a system. 

In other words, in a strictly linear universe, only strictly linear sciences are appropriate. If a science is a framework used to study and explain the universe, then it must reflect that universe. A non-linear science would not be used to explain a linear universe — a linear science would not be used to explain a non-linear universe. 

In a linear universe, a linear science would be appropriate. Conversely, in a non-linear universe, non-linear sciences would then be appropriate.

So, then, that begs the question: do we live in a purely linear, mechanistic universe? Can our universe be likened to a math equation, with strict order and logic?

The Hermetic axiom, As Above, So Below, says that the microcosm reflects the macrocosm. 

(I will add that this principle is not a “hippie-dippie” view. It is absolutely grounded in reality, and can be observed by anyone who cares to look. An obvious example of this principle: every child is a product of their parents. Anything created, will reflect the creator, from procreation to artistic creation.)

If As Above, So Below is true, then in studying the microcosm — we will focus on the human body — we can learn about the macrocosm — the universe. By studying the human brain and body, we can infer truths about the universe.

Splitting the brain into two basic hemispheres — the left, linear, causal, logical brain, and the right, non-linear, perhaps even non-causal, creative brain — we can say that our Universe has two aspects to it: the linear, and the non-linear. Because our brains do not work in a purely linear fashion, we can assume that the universe does not work in a purely linear fashion either. 

This leads us to another basic truth: that we live in a dualistic universe. The universe itself can always be reduced into two basic principles: masculine and feminine; light and dark; positive and negative; linear and non-linear. 

Because the human brain has two sides to it, it must be inferred that the universe also has two sides to it. What are these two sides? They can be called linearity, and non-linearity. 

This brings me to my point. How can we understand a dualistic universe with sciences that only use half of the story? In other words, in a universe with both yin and yang, we cannot use only yang to understand the entirety of the whole.

Mainstream science currently only has respect for the linear side of the universe. There is little representation for the non-linear aspect of life. As a matter of fact, it is met with mockery. The disrespect and disdain for the other side of the universe’s duality is, to me, a reflection of the masculine and feminine divide known as bigotry. The masculine side of life is the linear, logical side of life. This side of the duality believes it knows everything, and has a sense of superiority over the equally important non-linear reality. To rephrase what I said: mainstream science’s sneering at the non-linear sciences, including astrology, is a reflection of bigotry. The masculine (linear and logical, or mainstream science) has a disrespect for, and sense of superiority over, the feminine (non-linear and intuitive, such as astrology).

Moving forward from my previous point, and restating the whole, I will say that astrology’s value as a non-linear science is that if the universe were purely linear, we would need purely linear sciences; however, the universe is not exclusively linear, therefore, we do not need exclusively linear sciences.

What is Bigotry?

To begin, Love is opposite Hate —

Love is Union, things as One —

Hate is Separation, things Divided —

What causes Hate?

Fear causes Hate —

Hate is equivalent to Fear —

And, As Within, so Without —

So, with these things in mind, what then is bigotry?

Bigotry, is the specific divide of the Masculine against the Feminine.

Bigotry, then, is the specific FEAR of the Masculine against the Feminine.

The Masculine begins to fear the Feminine —

Why?

It fears the qualities of the Feminine —

It fears emotion, it fears vulnerability —

But it fears these qualities within themselves —

Men fear their OWN emotion, fear their OWN vulnerability, and therefore FEAR THEIR OWN FEMININE —

They fear it, so to protect themselves, they Hate it —

This is also called Toxic Masculinity —

And as withIN, so withOUT —

The way a man treats women, DIRECTLY reflects how he treats his OWN Feminine —

Men who are INternally separated from their own Feminine side, will be separated from the Feminine EXternally too —

These men may have girlfriends, and may have wives —

But they will not truly be connected to their partners.

Have compassion for the bigots, even in their hate —

They are the most emotionally starved —

Their hate and disrespect for the feminine,

Is only their hate and disrespect for themselves.

Men who were shamed for their own feminine side — for their own emotion, their own vulnerability — are the bigots.

They were TAUGHT to hate this core aspect of themselves —

And thus they were TAUGHT to hate this core aspect of others.

It is only because they hate THEMSELVES that they hate the other.

…All each of us needs is a little bit of warmth.

It’s okay to feel.

Your vulnerability is not weakness… it is beautiful.

As always, the only way to remedy Hate is with Love

Seeking from her the love that is mine to give myself

I seek from you 

What was mine

The gift had my name on it

But I could not accept it

I offer it to you

And I plead you

To give it back to me

Tell me I am worthy

Fight me

Argue with me

Convince me

The answer is simple, it is self-loathing. I do not feel like I am worthy of love. I seek the permission of others to give it to myself. The mistake was accepting their opinion in the first place. The mistake was believing I was ever not worthy.

But that is interpersonal love, is it not? We offer our hearts to others, and it is theirs to do what they wish with. And they are at liberty to infect us with their own diseases.

The point is — I hate myself. What does it mean to hate oneself? 

Well, what is hate?

Hate, is rejection. 

Love is union, and hate is rejected union. Hate is separation — love is conjunction. 

We can color this however else we’d like, with many different circumstances and situations, but this is the basic formula amongst each of them. 

So, then, what does it mean to hate oneself?

It means you, yourself, are fragmented into two. Broken. A piece of yourself asks for love, asks for union, but you are not willing to give it. Internal union is rejected.

You hate another aspect of yourself, for whatever reason. Maybe you fear it. Maybe it got you into trouble in the past. Maybe it feels too deeply. Maybe feeling itself is dangerous.

Maybe the others hated it. Maybe they ridiculed it. And that hurt, didn’t it? And you don’t like being hurt. So, you joined them. Rather than facing the pain of external schism, you let the disease in. Now you’re forever corrupted, mangled, cut in two, because the fear of being an outcast, outweighed the natural love you had for yourself.

So you cast this side of yourself into the corner. They sit there, head in their knees, in the shadows.

Every now and then, they come back out, asking for reconciliation. 

But the memory of what caused the schism in the first place keeps replaying. The fear hijacks your soul. You shout at them angrily, point your finger, spit flying, and get them back to the corner where they belong.

But the cycle does not end. Every time you bark them back into the corner, they get stronger. More persistent. They start to get angry too, and fight back.

How desperately are you willing to fight? Are you willing to die on this hill? Most do. 

Maybe sometimes, the other side wins. They get control back. And all of the pain they were forced to endure gushes out uncontrollably. Maybe that’s what insanity looks like.

How long will you go on like this? When will you learn to love yourself again?

Is there a cure for this disease? Can the crack be mended? 

Can the schism be closed, can the tear be sewed?

“How can you escape if you think you’re free?”

“If you think you’re free, then you can’t escape.”