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.