Suitably Fine

Hello everyone. I’m in a suitably fine place at the moment. I’ve just got one of the hardest weeks of my life out of the way. Now it’s onwards and upwards. Psychosis was the theme of the day today in Pathways. It seems that everyone has got it at the moment. Then why do I feel so alone with my personal affliction? Most people who admit that they have it don’t go into too much detail. Maybe because it’s just too bizarre to share eloquently. I’m sick to the back teeth of it. It’s cursed me for over the last decade of my life. The strange part is that it has nothing to do with my mental health. It causes bad mental health, but it’s not a cause of bad mental health.

Anyway, I stayed in throughout the whole day yesterday, deeming it too cold to go out. Several but not too many cans of alcohol were consumed. The night was a rolling terror fest fighting the presence underneath my bed; alas, I came through it to survive until the daybreak of morning. Now I’m up and active in the local library talking to your good self. I’ve signed up to a new course this afternoon related around anger management but to be honest I’m failing to be excited about it too much. I’m failing to be excited about anything really. I’m thinking that my purpose is merely to get through a struggle, and not enjoy any happiness or bliss. Sheer survival might be the order of the day. I imagine that I’m working in my sleep, space-hopping to different realms on some kind of secret intergalactic mission, making several other inhabitants of various realms aware of my plight. I pray for lucid dreams, and I’m getting rewarded. I’m waking up with my mind blown sometimes.

I used to keep a dreams diary, but I wrote it in writing too small to read. It was writing meant for a magnifying glass. I believe it was shielded by the subconscious somehow, to prevent it from interfering with the veridical. Or something like that. Now I keep meagre notes about the people I meet on the astral and the circumstances surrounding them. Often, by the time I have a rollie in my gob and a coffee in my hand, I have a complete story in my head of where I’ve been and what I’ve done.

My boy David Abraham used to say that dreams are simply the last remaining thoughts in your head which you have before you drift off to sleep. Try telling him about intergalactic space missions in the pit. David was a good Christian family guy, before his wife cheated on him and wrecked his home. I liked his wife, Natalie, she had a fondness for egg salads. You should have seen their wedding portraits on the wall, they were beautiful. I used to go round to their home and watch horror movies together. Natalie has moved back to Preston, but David has quickly remarried and had another child. He battered his child once on the football field, because he fouled another player. I mean, really battered him like. Punched him, kicked him, the lot, it was all a bit excessive. He didn’t come across as a very prominent Christian when he was doing that! He also like to take penalties with his big toe. You know, where you poke the ball with your toe. We used to call them toe-bungers when we were little. Big Bad Bob in the local youth club was king of the toe-bungers. He used to hit the post and claimed he scored a goal, because the post was painted onto the wall. Okay, that’s it. See ya next time out!

 

Festivity Period

 

Happy New Year! I hope your Christmas was great. I got a couple of dinners out of it. A friend named Jacqui laid a spread on, Chrimbo Eve. It was very special, I felt connected and engaged. It went tits up over the New Year with another use up, but now I am determined to stay on the right path. I know, I know, I’ve said all this before, but this time is different, I feel it in my marrow.

My dealer has just contacted me, because he knows it’s my payday methinks. I politely refused his offer of a big dog and said that I am okay fine for the moment. Then I deleted his number again instantly. He might be all kind and friendly when he is selling the goods, and meeting up to deliver them, but afterwards, once I’m on a comedown, he doesn’t care about whether I am standing on a bridge or balanced on the bathtub with a razor blade in my hand. I’ve lost several friends to suicide. You would never have thought they had it in them. I remember them fondly and pray that they are sweet on the other side.

Usual psychosis went down on my last use up. I am sexually enslaved to a bad spirit who excites me with her evil mantras. She started to take control of my mind by making me spell out the names of my good spirits to her so she could work her wiccan magic and tear us apart. My knees turned discoloured by the drugs. I was a physical and mental wreck. And guess what? Another creature appeared in my flat, hiding under the bed. In case you are wondering, it is physical, not a shape shifter. And this one bites me in my sleep. Can you imagine the terror? It takes all my mighty will power and steely determination to stay there.

During the comedown, it was a Full House. This means that every single good and bad spirit I could encompass was present in the room with me. It’s hard remembering that I am all alone, because I feel like I am the central member in a large party. We’re talking about thirty presences, plus voices on top! It’s hard to calculate how many people’s voices I hear. I call it a snooker maximum 147, although there are potentially many more. It’s just one after the other. They all line up to have a pop at me. Their latest insinuation is calling me a BIG BLACK F**K UP! They reckon I have ruined my mind on drug.

I saw a giant bright flashy firework emerge from Heaven through my window. This was the Creator giving me my power back in the form of an energetic parcel. The imagination can be restored with one of these parcels; it has nothing to do with brain chemistry, I feel. Instantly my thoughts started to improve and I began to get over the beast underneath my bed, which is another genetic mutation with a dollop of tailored mind power. The Most High appeared in my room, and put a shield around my body. He’s a big guy in a red cloak. I value this shield with my life. If I use again, I lose it.