ANVIL SAMSARA

Friday, 21 August 2026

On The Up For Now (Fingers Crossed)

𓀗 I sit here today beginning to feel better about myself, and most namely my mind, which has been downcast. It’s been nice and quiet upstairs in a way after I switched myself off with chemicals last week. Silence is half-considered a mental failure, like a lobotomy, but I have grown to quite adore it, because usually I talk to myself at like a million miles per hour. I’ll say anything. Just like the new depression buzz term: Small talk saves lives. It’s good to natter.

For the stalkers hooked up to my thought rhythms, this recent silence must spell boredom for them. That’s what I prefer. Why should I entertain a bunch of criminals with my psychic chin-wagging who offer only hostility back in return? I relish actual conversations in the real world, as I have so much to offer. I was a counsellor in a former life.

I learned from Buddhism to take more interest in your subject than in yourself, to treat every human being as a special creation, and to understand that each and every one of them have parents who love them dearly. I was also taught to have great compassion for all of mankind, yes, that includes even the gobshites amongst us.

This I do as standard procedure now. When I am old beyond belief, if I am so lucky, and in a mobility scooter or wheel chair, I hope that a hot young female bodybuilder or suchlike takes an interest in me. The aged have a habit of being invisible to the young and sprightly. It’s a young man’s world, so they say, an young white man’s world; well, I’m big and black and getting on a bit with my stiff bones but I’m here to stay, I don’t care who owns it.

THE WAY I SEE IT, this cosmos and world we inhabit are just a construct of my imagination. None of it would exist if I weren’t here. I walk around as if I own the joint. It has to be this way. Its loads of fun, there’s no harm done, and nobody stops you. It’s kind of a retaliation to Mind Kontrol. When this mean universe takes a lifelong dump all over your force, the self has a habit of sticking up for itself. Call it the superego if you will. Even a planet full of international agents have a hard time putting it down. That’s even with several crippling addictions which cause it to ruin itself and make it doubly easy for them to stick the proverbial lead wellington boot in. Is it ever job done, in crushing this poor individual? Far from it.

Saying I own it and all that, I’m half serious. Sometimes, not often, I look around in the pub and feel like ‘these are my people’. There’s order, it’s civil, there’s no savagery, it’s serene and peaceful. There’s something missing, because nobody is overly friendly to another, we’re all still a touch ignorant, but it’s evolution, it could be a lot worse, I’ll settle for it. It’s far from militia law, and therefore beautiful in a way. Everyone just seems to…get on.

I recall being sat in a fellowship meeting and letting loose several tears from my eye. God’s children were just so amazing, in all their different ways.

If I could see myself the way I see others, instead of wrecking myself with silly addiction, the battle would be over with.

Wednesday, 19 August 2026

Guard Down

(🎡) This latest two day ‘blip’ had me strictly planted in the doldrums, but yesterday I snapped out of it and had a little dance to music. Today I’ve been to class, which was off the menu I thought, so that was positive also. I decided to keep my mouth shut for a change and just listen. I’m still processing the awfulness. I didn’t want to spill my guts about being targeted for imaginary psychosis and all the rest of it so soon. Not until I’d computed exactly what the frig had happened.

My harassers don’t half grow a set of cohonies when I’m strung out on narcotics. They know that I wouldn’t say boo to a goose, when usually I’m on the batter. They completely surround my home. The neighbours are terrible, their properties are being used for observation bases (and worse). It’s hard not to react when I’m sober, but on a speed comedown I’m easy pickings. And boy do they pick at me well.

Because my guard was down they got down to business. I think I saw a child being kidnapped. It could and most probably was a skit, I can’t be sure, but it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t vulnerable. I want to apologise to my God for being a helpless druggie sometimes. If not for addiction I would be in fine fettle to deal with gangstalking. As it is, when I am catatonic in the midst of a synthetic hell, with no brain activity, and other people’s graffiti on the ceiling in my own home, I am an elementary target with no effective mental defence (EMD).

I hope and pray that you are not a soldier in this Silent Holocaust, and going through similar rigours of organized criminality. If you are getting stalked, then stick around. I get by with a faith in God, even though I’ve suffered the loss of multiple other higher powers who jumped ship at the first sign of mutiny. Now I stand alone in the face of adversity knowing only who I am and how I came to be this way. Chosen, I believe.

I escaped some of the comedown by reading a good book about addiction. Gossip Girl goes to rehab. It’s bad enough, on top of normal life, but being targeted as well? Forget about it.

Ah well, life goes on, and I can only make another concentrated effort to protect my peace and my joy. I feel like telling myself never again, but I’m not sure what the point is. Every time I’m doing well I screw it up. But I do keep doing well. That counts for something. At least I have some recovery to abolish. If I used every single day I could not imagine how bad my life would become. It’s only these sprees of revival which give me any hope. The way I fight back defines me. And this written testimony, of course. It’s not as creative or inspiring as I’d like it to be at the present time, but God willing I’ll be back to my best sooner rather than later.

Other than that and me, I wish that you are well on this day. I’m battling this contest so that somebody else out there doesn’t have to one day. There’s an agenda out there who wants us all hooked up to a computer with our brains siphoned off. I know this because it’s happening to me.

But monumental ape strong!!!

Tuesday, 18 August 2026

What Was That About?

(♡) I made it out alive. Or you might agree that I’ve suffered yet another spiritual death. It wouldn’t be the first, would it? My spiritual capital is flying out of every window at the moment. And all I do is sit at home.

I can’t mention drugs and porn currently. God, do I ever stop banging on about them? This relapse was a bad one, I’ve only just crawled out of bed and rolled into the shop for a super strength beer. I supped it on the bench outside, watching happy-looking pedestrians meander past.

Well, at least I’m out in public. No amount of give-away ulcers on my bottom lip can keep me hiding indoors forever. I’ve noticed that addicts always get face sores when they use. It must be a thing. Something takes away their confidence and resolve and leaves them a scab in exchange. Quid pro quo. Fair kop.

It was crap, by the way. I didn’t enjoy it. There goes my clean time. But I don’t want to focus on the negative. At the same time I can’t distract myself by writing a story. Suppose I’ll just chat bubbles as usual.

Back in college, way back when, our philosophy tutor asked us to describe what thinking feels like. Easy that. I said it was like blowing bubbles through bubbles. Lisa had jewelry last week that doubled up as bubble blowing devices. She removed her chunky ring and started blowing bubbles through it.

How would I describe the thinking process almost thirty years later? Difficult, at the moment. My visual cortex has been hacked to ribbons, so there goes the pretty pictures of silver lakes and castles in the sky and dolphins and fairies and leprechauns sat on the edges of giant magic mushrooms. I wouldn’t be able to envisage my own face if I’d been staring into the mirror all day. But hey, I can live without that.

Having an overactive third eye, unless you are hooked up, is overrated. Now the menticiders have nothing to harass me about. I have theoretically lost my mind! Who knows, maybe it will return to me one day…

Until then I'll try and plod on, getting my arse onto this chair as much as I am able. Should be back later.

Thursday, 13 August 2026

Writing On The Wall

I looked at adult DVDs yesterday, and since today is pay day, I’ve decided to buy some later to view while on amphetamine and pregabalin. These behaviours are not what I would expect in my own children, if I had any, and I do not condone them. Go jogging instead is my advice.

I’m living like a monk lately however and I feel like I need a release. I love the experience of a sexual movie. At home, all alone, nice and safe and warm, harming nobody, gratifying oneself…a pub lunch just doesn’t compare does it.

I should go the gym instead I know and kick these addictions into touch. Still, I’m not doing it every day. One and a half years off porn. Now that is some accomplishment. Today should be good!

Listen to me. Who would want to read this? A man telling the world he’s a wanker and he’s up for a sesh. I know I’m not the only one though. I just pray that the Lord forgives me for giving up other responsibilities, such as keeping tabs on my neighbourhood and generally being better off porn-free. But those women are so tempting, I fear I cannot resist them forever. For a month or two, yeah, perhaps.

So, the writing is on the wall then. That’s that. I’m going to hand over all my special sacred sexual energy to a bunch of adult actresses who I don’t even love. It’s sad isn’t it? I feel compelled to engage in these entrenched exploits regardless.

I just hope I don’t feel too down afterwards.

Sorry for the negative post.

I hope you yourself are far away from pornography, white water rafting or hill walking or something. Even if you are monged out in front of the telly, doing Sweet FA, then fair play to you. There’s nothing wrong with anything that doesn’t hurt anyone. Don’t feel too bad about your follies, faults, failures and flaws, if you have any. We all have vices. Yours might be food. Just accept that you are a wonderful individual in the Lord’s eyes and in mine, and that we’d both do anything for you. No matter how fat or anorexic you are, no matter how poor you are, whether you’re blackish or black or white or albino. I’m in love with all of the human condition (no kids or gore) and sexual innuendo is part of that. It’s hard to accept that I’m a sexual creature. But I am a creature.

I’d rather make love to a woman in the woods, but that isn’t an option. Maybe one time in a future life.

Wednesday, 12 August 2026

Pressing Behaviours

More erotic dreams last night. All I recall are quivering female buttocks. This sets me in a mood for pornography. I get paid tonight, the boutique is open tomorrow, there’s nothing stopping me from rocking out. These masturbatory behaviors spell doom for me personally, once the illicit substances begin to wear off, as I am left alone on the bed behind a curtain with no hope for the rest of the day. There’ll be no pockets of joy in fine cuisine, no walks in the sunshine, no writing online to special readers, no public speaking in Pathways…and the cretins in my hallucinations will be laughing all the way to nasty jolliness, gleeful with tenacious torment.

Still, in saying this, the dopamine that rockets from adult material and drugs is a difficult bond to break. It’s all I want to do, I’ll be honest about things. My flesh feels very weak every pay day. I might buy some expensive trainers instead of narcotics and porn this time. It’s all still up in the air. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Maybe I could have a pad workout and lift some weights at home before thinking about getting back into the gym. That would be a critical U-turn at this important juncture. I can be sat on the floor jacking off to sexy ladies chomping on mens’ private parts or rejuvenate my blood iron in the sweathouse gymnasium, which makes me into a mass monster ready to smash everyone’s head in. I have a choice to make, and it’s not a no brainer. Women or muscle?

Already I wish all my pertinent decisions were done so I could reside in the surety of Heaven, surrounded in the protective blanket of the Holy Spirit, but unfortunately I have more slogging it out with demons to be done. I do not fear a knife welded on the end of an invisible arm, but a woman covered in make-up choking on a nob. I have a supernatural reaction to nude imagery which turns me into an empty vessel of a tossing-off creature for very many hours. My brain lights up and I can’t stop observing pornographic scenes. Why I buy them in the first place, from a reserved divine position of healthy clean time away, is a mystery.

If I resist today, it’s all over me the next, and if I get through that, then it’s waiting the following day, and so on. I feel like I need to go to the shop and at least look at the DVDs, to ease something churning deep within. I’m a highly sexual being and it’s been a long time since I viewed mature content. The absence has made my heart grow very fond, even though I know it’s unwholesome. I lie to myself, telling myself that it’s harmless, it’s not a grave sin, I’ll be okay, nobody is getting hurt.

Of course I’ll let you how it goes. Wish me luck. I wish you the best of it too, throughout your many undoubtful struggles.

Tuesday, 11 August 2026

Kids On The Block

I’ve had a string of positive days, you’ll hopefully be pleased to hear about. I’m feeling fairly decent considering. Being back to watching movies is great, they keep me occupied for hours and help me forget about my grim oppressors. I’m eating wonderful meals and drinking plenty of fluids. I’ve just seen my main nurse, who has arranged to help me out with a few things. You know I have a gripe about the system, but the individuals who work for it can hardly be blamed for its tyrannical history. You wouldn’t shoot a police officer because you don’t agree with the law, would you?

There's a video conference uplink tribunal I may or may not attend next week. I’ve just contacted my solicitor about it. I have papers from my last section which I’ve unzipped and defragged with a telescopic lens, highlighting the lies contained within their application for section. Whether I bring them to light is another story, as I don’t relish an argument with the authorities. Not, unless, there was speculation for compensation. That would be different. Maybe I’ll break them down for you here at the sweet spot sometime, to let you know how the doctors work against unpopular citizens. Somebody else’s reasons why someone they don’t know should be locked up and medicated can be very interesting. Funny AF, I'd even say. It makes great reading.

I don’t bear grudges, you know that. They can detain me and poison me but I’m still alive and cogging eternity, where it matters. Take my life, but never my soul, I’ve always decreed. What happens down here on Mad planet Earth is just but a passing breath. Like The Joker said, in Batman, “Why So Serious?” Learn to let things bounce off you. Even things like unlawful incarceration, injustice, and extra judicial punishment. Breathe and pause before responding to anything. Watch helpful videos on online. I wish I could assist you in getting to know yourself properly, the deep imaginative substance beneath your physical matter, but that is a personal private journey we all have to conduct on our billy lonesome. You probably already accomplished that shish.

I learned by picturing the best thing I was able to visually. That gives you a clue into who you are. Think about your favourite image, one that you’ve made up, one you’d be proud to show to God when you meet him, one that encapsulates your time down here on little blue. No dick piks please.

I’m only here today because I’ve had a nice encounter with a couple of boys from round my estate: Carlos, 12, and Aaron, 10. There have been rumours circulating about me being a beast so I’ve been avoiding saying hi to the kids until things quiet down. I told you a month or so ago that I had to disable a torpedo who was there to smash on sight. He’s in a homeless hostel now, probably tooting the pipe. Anyway, I find it awkward around kids at the best of times, precisely because of rumours like these, and the current climate we live in, but I decided to befriend them for several minutes. We talked about confectionery and school and stuff. This was just outside my garden. I told them that if they ever needed anything, or found themselves in trouble, to give me a shout. It felt great to offer that thin thread of support to the younger generation. Hopefully, if they ever require anything from me, I won’t be strung out in a darkened room behind a locked door, sweating my tits off on phet or coke, no use to anybody. That would hurt a lot, as I dream of being useful to someone someday, and really making a difference in someone’s life, if at all possible.

Their youthful innocent adventurous presence got me thinking of The Creator, and raised my frequency. I’ve always cherished children. In fact, I have a quirky practice for observing them at play. I widen my vision to maximum and concentrate on the periphery of my sight (Owl Eyes) showcasing their movements in an altered state of perception. Sounds weird and it is, but I see how gracious their movements are this way, they really are God’s best creation. Apart from penicillan, lightbulbs, and internal combustion engines. Not to mention chunky sweet potato chips.

They got me thinking. I have a special collection at home, which I amassed earlier this year. It’s mostly children’s stuff, like teddy bears and comic-based bubble bath and poker sets and the like, anything made with love was the theme at the time. The thing is, I started consuming it myself. Now I want to regrow the trove and start giving it away as gifts to guys like Carlos and Aaron. It didn’t occur to me to offer them something before. My best item is a bespoke £30 fairy folk purse, perfect for a teenage girl.

Do you see what I mean now? Gifts to teenage girls from the strange man off the estate…???

I can’t help it, it’s my generous nature, my younger sister is now too old for such sentimentality. She wants i-phones and Pandora jewelry (I did actually buy her a bracelet once), which both cost a packet. I’m usually so selfish in addiction and recovery that I can’t do anything nice for anyone. It’s true what they say, first you have to start with loving yourself.

Keep motivated peeps x*

*This kiss is a manly kiss, blown off the hand, so you can catch it and transfer to your pocket. It’s not one on the lips or the cheek, as we are not close enough for that yet. Wink-wink.

P.S I’ll fly up your ass later.

Monday, 10 August 2026

New Telly Day

Woke up early as is usual, dragging myself up from the mattress on the floor. I sleep on the floor because I was unsure if I had a pest control problem or not. I was hallucinating vermin in my florid ‘delusions’, and I had the feeling that people were putting real ones in there to hurt me as well. Between the two, I decided to minimise the flat, getting rid of anything that could be hid under. Therefore the bed and the sofa had to go. I toppled them into the garden. The council removed them later on.

Decided to stay awake once I was up. Had delicious cheesy scrambled egg on toast for breakfast, instead of porridge mixed with Nutella and peanut butter. I’ve just had three small plates in the pub as well, which I’m regretting, because I feel full and laggard.

Been into SMART group, where once again I was interrupted during my talk. The facilitator should listen more then he opens his mouth. At the weekend I talked about porn; today I kind of glorified the dark side of being unable to resist. Naturally, I was challenged: You always have a choice, they said. It should have been different. I should be delivering knowledge about God’s grace. But hardly anyone believes in him!

I got my new telly from a mate. It all checks out fine. DVD player is great. It took me several hours to notice the A-B loop repeat button, which kind of ushers in a tendency to watch adult material. I originally thought it didn’t have one. I just love the DVD experience, as I’ve never streamed in my life. I sit there messing with the buttons half the time, namely the zoom and aspect ones, always changing the image on the screen.

The idea of watching naked babes on my fresh equipment is very pressing. I am aware however that not all female adult actresses are perfect and that not even the silver screen can hide these imperfections for as long as I desire to watch it for. After multiple hours you come across a roll of fat or a birthmark or facial hair or something which puts you off. Either that or you are looking at the men.

I’m not in the mood for a ‘reset’ yet though. I want to keep the running abstinent spree going. Be a better man for a while like, you know. Get into my traditional movies and artwork and stuff, with cooking and worship and music and all the rest.