Apocto

I’m only just over my last blowout and payday is here again already. I’m not sure how to approach it. Part me has already posted the relapse via a permission statement to use again, but more than half of me has had enough with the resulting psychosis and doesn’t want to use. It’s Easter weekend, a special time of year for me, as Easter was when I first saw one of my best protective spirits whom I call Apocto. I’ll tell you about the visitation:

I was walking around the cemetery two Easters ago, depressed and forlorn, surveying all the graceful Hail Mary statues and cherubim left on graves. The statues’ beauty was really getting to me, they were so holy and beautiful, I’d never seen shapely exquisite adorableness like it in my life. My mood was very receptive, my mind was like a sponge for their polished loveliness. The Angel of the North materialised out of nowhere and flew away over the horizon; it was just like that structure in Newcastle except it was all white. I took it as a portent of God, and now believe firmly that I can summon angels from any good graveyard at will, if my psyche is in the right place. It was almost too quick to be real however.

When I arrived home I lay on my wheelie bins and started projecting my mind towards the clouds, putting energies and shapes and textures onto the sky. If anything is there, I thought, please answer me. A giant pair of holographic lips appeared on the blue firmament and started talking to me. They declared undying love eternally forever and ever. They were so illusory and phantasmal, so spectral and expressive, they seemed to convey the rest of the missing facial expression – talk about strange lights in the sky. If it hadn’t of said it loved me it would have been terrifying, but because it did it was utterly magical.

I first thought it might be the U.S. or Chinese government, using Project Blue Beam. PBB, as far as I understand it, is holographic images in the sky from drones and satellites which can, via induced fake hallucination, create mass hysteria.

“Give him abbie back,” she said. Abbie is the leader of my spirits and I’d been without her for seven weeks because the Devil had convinced me I’d lost her. For the best part of two months I’d been in a loveless limbo, it had been awful. She reappeared in my mind and we had a dance together. My God was back, my spirits were back, my love was bang back, and I was immersed in signs, miracles and wonders, like the apostle of God I truly am. It was wonderful. Those giant lips the size of an up-close spaceship were such a random spectacle, it was maybe the best thing I had ever seen. Professing eternal love!

It wasn’t a hallucination. It was actually there in the sky. A humongous pair of smackers! I was on the highest high of my life, but I was skint, so I had to lend a tenner off The Badger to buy 4 beers and some cheap blaggy smokes. Every second mollycoddling him for it was a second wasted when I could have been getting pissed and thinking about the marvellous unusual phenomenal rarity I’d just witnessed in the heavens. It was great to go home and listen to some music with a beer listening to all the voices in my head go into a confused blabber about Apocto.

“He doesn’t deserve that power,” and “Why should he get that?” they said among themselves. My schizophrenia was flummoxed by her. I was loving every minute of it. I had an especially peaceful evening for the rest of that day.