Observing Auras

Howdy there yet again brothers and sisters. I feel like a glowing vessel of light and warmth. That may sound corny, I know, but it’s better than being a broiling cauldron of venom and hate. I’m accepting my place in the universe, even in the dead of night, when I wake up at Nobhead O’clock, alone and vulnerable in the dark. The authorities are trying to get me back on my meds, yet I’m withstanding like a well-structured lighthouse in a gale force wind. There’s no way that’s happening. Life is totally different without them. Ever since I watched a damning documentary about medication on YouTube several years ago I knew that they weren’t for me. The brain is a different animal when not subjected to them. I like being off meds.

It feels as if something heavy and oppressive has lifted off my mind, something hard to put a finger on. I can only describe it as a large greeny-brown splodge, a smear, a stain, a befuddling cloud which dumbs down your thoughts. The doctor said that the purpose of the medication was to stop difficult thoughts. Yes please! Give me some of that! But he was talking out of his bottom. The truth is more like this: It was making me afraid and paranoid of what it was really actually doing. They have no idea, the people who make it, because they have never taken it. I don’t care how many fancy boxes and side-effect lists the drug comes with. All I know is that now it is over, I can finally be drug-free.

They say in the fellowship that alcohol is a powerful substance, but can you feasibly call everyone in the pub a druggie? A few pints chills you out man. When you start necking bottles of vodka with no mixer, from morning till night, I can see where the troubles start to come in, but a few lagers? Where’s the harm? Personally, I don’t believe that booze is a drug. I might be in rampant denial when I state this, because I lift a jar every day, but there’s no seediness to it, there’s no deception, there’s no criminality, and, most importantly, there’s no psychosis. Not with me anyway. I can only speak for myself though.

I’m finding small pockets of joy in food. Pizza and lasagne mainly. As long as you can still enjoy little things…it’s very important. The enemy wants you enjoying absolutely nothing, not even a smile from a stranger, not even a happy thought in your own head. I’ve almost had my mind taken away from me, by various acts of criminally-insane warfare, and am lucky to be sat here today, talking to your good self. I feel pleased grateful and glad to be able to do this at the present moment. I’d just like to share this special occasion with you. There is nothing all over me, in the guise of drug addiction at the minute, or graven porn imagery, even though it’s pay day. The disease, as they call it, of addiction, has been lifted along with the medication. I don’t feel like curling up under my duvet and fapping in a darkened room anymore. I don’t feel like relaying mantra upon mantra back and to with the DK either. I just feel like walking about and staring at people for who they truly are, warm magical bulbs and halos of light and peace.