Real Deal Seeker on Deck.

Chapter One. Building context.

Brother we’ve got to break through a word barrier of sorts. We could think of it as a marker, or litmus test of sorts, about one’s own ability to discern. It’s most important to recognize the phenomenon, and not get hung up on the words. If a fella gets hung up on the words, and doesn’t see the phenomenon because of that, we say he lacks discernment. Put bluntly, when I am debating, or arguing with people, and they begin to tell me it’s how I say it; I call them stupid. An intelligent person can discern what is being said regardless of how it is being said. It will be up to you Brother, which one applies; is a fella stupid? Or intelligent?

A way of thinking about God, is the way that I have approached it in life as an adult. Of course, when I was a child I did not have all this knowledge, so my experiences of God were just that; godly experiences. What I learned though, is that all humans, from all cultures, are all attempting to discern the same reality. For a long time this particular phenom hung me up about being an atheist. How is it, no matter which culture, no matter which era, no matter where in the world one is from; they believe in some God or other? Christianity is relatively new. Even Buddhism is new in terms of just how long we humans have been fucking and fighting. No matter where I looked, at all times, all over the world, all humans believed in god.

That’s when I changed my own tactics. I realized all humans are describing the same thing, the same reality, just in a way that is filtered through their particular culture and time. Carl Jung was attempting to describe the same reality as the Peruvian shaman; they just have a very different syntax. Once I realized this I began compiling syntaxes.

So the second paragraph of this line of thought, made the first paragraph true. All the stupid people are aruging over how its said. Christians vs Muslims is a prime example. Even within these two different religions they argue constantly about how it’s said. How many different sects of Christians are there? I mean, there are even different sects of Buddhism! It doesn’t seem to me many of these monkeys are looking within.

All mystics are describing the same reality. Buddha was never going to put it in a Christian syntax. Christ was never going to say it like Jung. The Peruvian shaman is never going to take up the syntax of Jung either. In this sense, we could say Jung was a bit of a syntax compiler himself, but he didn’t have access to much of the knowledge that I have had access to. Jung came out of an almost entirely Christian syntax. His career depended on him not talking too much about God.

If this point isn’t obvious, a fella is never going to get it anyways. I’ve never cared how they say it; I’ve only cared if they could actually see the thing or not. I can see the thing, so I can tell if someone else can. My two favorite syntaxes are the Jungian, and that of Castaneda. Both of these guys were most definitely able to see the thing. If one reads these two syntaxes together one gets a real taste of reality. For instance, what Jung calls the unconscious, Castaneda calls second attention. They were both able to access, to step into, god, the unconscious, at will, and relatively free of harm; they both used dramatically different words to describe what they found. We could say both individuated. They attained a high degree of Self.

Normally when I have these types of conversations with someone I give them the red pill speech. As I’ve mentioned before, typically when someone finds themselves in my proximity they are in the weeds in life, their life is dark, they are lost, and they are seeking a way out. Their ego is deflated such that they will actually hear what I have to say. Life will have smashed their self importance enough to hear contradictory information. It’s not hard to understand.

Think of some female in a relationship, and everything is going fine for her, yet I’m over here saying to her; that isn’t love what you’re doing. This has happened actually, many a time. She isn’t going to listen to a damn thing I say. But then one day, it all comes crashing down on her, and suddenly she hears me when I say; that wasn’t love what you were doing. Most do not want to wake up even though they will say they do. It’s easy to say words. Anyone can say words. I just do what I do when they do come along.

This is why I give the warning. Since it’s almost always the unconscious choosing who comes my way, they are almost always down for the ride. They almost always stick around till the end. I can only assume Brother that since you are reading this you are seeking. So I must warn you, as I have warned others, there is a price for knowing such things. What is to many a terrible price. What is this price you ask? It is Loneliness. Real deal, soul trembling loneliness. Taking up the path of knowledge will bring about the greatest loneliness imaginable. There will never be a time when you can turn back either. It is just like imbibing ayahuasca. Once the brew is down the hatch Brother, it’s a done deal and there is no turning back. It cannot be undone in any way.

Ask anyone who has had a proper dose; to the man: they remember it forever, and it changed them forever. Once it has begun, there is no way to prevent loneliness from wrapping its bitter arms about you. Once you learn even the littlest bit of truth, the process will begin, and it cannot be undone. The truth is the red pill, and I am about to give it to you. Do not take this lightly. Brother I’d not do this if I didn’t know; you have been warned. This is not a joke. Even if your ego does not agree with what you are about to read, your unconscious will have imbibed it, and this cannot be undone. Go back now, close the tab, hit the back button, turn off the device. If you do not want to know the truth then turn back now.

There are some important concepts to understand here. I am never speaking of a transcendent god. I am never speaking of the thing that created the Universe. This is rather easy to understand. No one has any clue whatsoever of what created the universe. Applying logic, if we do not know a single thing about something; IT DOES NOT EXIST: or we would know something about it. Said the other way, the only way we could know if something exists is if we knew something about it. We do not know a single fact about anything in regards to what brought the universe into existence. Nothing. Since our primary rule is to acquire first hand experience; this takes any conversation about what created the universe off the table completely. We have no choice but to say; we do not know. We do, however, know what created life on our planet. Our creator is right here on earth with us, but this creator of life did not create the universe itself. These are two completely different things.

This brings us back to what has already been said. We can, with our first hand experience, see that regardless of time, or place, on earth, all humans have believed in a god. We do have first hand experience of this phenomenon. You see, the preacher man is just repeating what he was taught, and that is why preacher men talk about things they can’t actually know. They are only repeating something someone else said. The mystic does not do this. I am not a preacher man. I’m not writing about anything of which I do not know myself first hand. If a person had knowledge of the thing that created the Universe, there would be nothing to preach about. Fella might have to think about that for a minute.

One of my ways of knowing is an experience like this. Many times I’ve spent years trying to figure out these spiritual truths. Pacing like a cat on the rocks barefooted. Finally a day will come and I’ll have the thought, and when it’s a big thought it will come with a visceral experience. A thump in my chest is not uncommon when it’s a really big thought. Sometimes my whole body will go all tingly, my hair will raise up on end, and I’ll just be poleaxed. I’ve worked long and hard on some of these truths.

Two dramatic examples of this in my life would be Sir Alan Watts, and Carlos Castaneda. When I went off into nature, and did the thing, I had no idea whatsoever who Watts was. Try to imagine being me Brother. Just this stupid dumb Missouri white boy. Raised like an animal. Totally abused and neglected the first thirty years of my life. No education really. Nothing. Surrounded on all sides by the dumbest monkeys on earth. I had an experience such as the one I am about to relay to you, and I began following my intuition exclusively. Then after that decade long process I heard an Alan Watts lecture where he almost word for word described my experience.

Matter of fact, it was something like twelve years later when the now ex wife played this Watts lecture while I was gardening. I just stood there in the sun pole axed; he had just described exactly what had happened to me. Word for word. I mean, come on Brother, Watts was already dead. He knew nothing about me, yet here I was, having had that exact same experience of which he spoke. It’s a lecture of his about being a shaman. He was describing shamans in China. So funny too, because my now ex wife just did not want this fact to be true; that I was indeed a shaman. She still doesn’t want that to be true. Poor thing.

Well, I’m also mentioning this, because without having known about Watts, I was also employing one of the tactics that he used. Whenever I am dealing with people I always waver between being an atheist and an agnostic. If a person is atheist, I’m not, and if a person believes in god, I’m atheist. This tactic turns a person in on himself. If I am talking to someone who believes that god is a guy in the sky, a stereotypical Christian, I am an atheist, because that god doesn’t exist. For all intents and purposes to such a person, with this worldview, I might as well be atheist.

There’s another reason for this tactic too, it’s called being a mirror. I do this because if you follow the thought that I have been putting forward, and take it to its logical conclusion, when someone finds themselves in my presence I am their unconscious made manifest, and it is my duty to compensate for their false beliefs. Brother you understand what I am saying I hope.

An atheist must somehow account for this phenomenon of orchestration. He may deny a creator, but he cannot also deny that there is some orchestrating force in our lives. If he doesn’t want to call it God that is fine, but he must still acknowledge this thing that is happening to us all. We must call it something. Here I mostly use the term unconscious, which obviously comes from the Jungian syntax. Jung would have been completely discredited as a scientist if he used the term God. The guy was a real deal genius, so he put a dichotomy on consciousness; unconscious. This gave us a scientific way to talk about god. It’s funny to me how he did this right under the noses of all those stupid religious bigots.

If I am dealing with an agnostic, for the same reason of compensation, I will basically come at them as an atheist, just of a different flavor. An agnostic is usually making an argument for god, to which I respond quite atheistically, whatever created the Universe, no one knows anything about that, and if we don’t know anything about something, that something might as well not exist, or you’d know something about it definitively. This has already been said.

It’s obvious. This isn’t that hard to grasp, unless of course one doesn’t want to hear it. So when a fella comes my way convinced of god, but unable to define the terms I basically argue there is no god. Here again I mean, that particular way of thinking about god doesn’t exist. The agnostic is only playing with thoughts. He has to be brought around to first hand experience. To the agnostic I say: Wouldn’t it be best to attempt to figure out what is going on right in front of our faces, before thinking we do or do not know about the existence of the Creator? It does us no good to attempt to know God if we do not even know our Self. This flips a guy in on himself, and that will actually give him a chance at finding the thing, because so long as he is looking “out there” he will never find what he is looking for.

One of the issues in our dealing with God is culture. Culture is the same as you or I in that it has an “ego”, and like our individual egos it does whatever it must to perpetuate its sense of self. This is why the culture does not tell us what is really going on, because doing so would undo itself. Take a moment to let that sink in. If people understood what was really going on, this culture as it is, would not exist. That is precisely the case within you too Brother. The same exact thing is happening. If one knew other than they did, if they knew the truth within themselves, the person they are now would no longer be. If one truly understood what was going on regarding their own Self, the one that they “think they are” now, their ego, their sense of self, their self importance; would cease to be. So the real reason Brother, that you’ve not seriously gone about figuring out what is really going on, is the same as this culture’s reason for not educating everyone, it would undo itself. That Brother is what we call a fractal.

Another way of looking at this is to ask, what happens if a person has a different worldview than that of the culture? In any group really. Think of going to any church and spitting some truth. They will get rid of a fella using any means necessary. Their peace and love asses will resort to violence so fast it will make one’s head spin. Take a view that is radically different from those whom one is surrounded by, and you will get a first hand experience of what I’m talking about.

When humans were tribal the worst thing possible was to be cast out. No one changes faster than they do in the face of being socially outcast. Back in the tribal days, being shamed out of the tribe was almost certainly a death sentence. Neighboring tribes didn’t just let strangers come on over whenever they had been outed of their own tribe. How dumb would that be?

In this situation, one’s ego will do it for them just to get back into the fold. To get back into the tribe, one’s ego will make the change without one having to do it themselves. We could say the ego of such a person would never even let itself get so bad that it would get kicked out. If you’ve ever had a complete change in self because of some exterior situation, particularly the threat of death, then this can be easily understood. I do have such experiences. I have been thrown out. I have been told in life, on more that one occasion, that if I did not change I was going to be murdered.

This is a way to show one’s self just how much control one really has over themselves. You will “unwillingly/willingly” capitulate in the face of being outcast or killed, without some other recourse. It happened to me the first time when I was seventeen years old. That’s another story though, for another day. Do or Die!

Here in modern times being socially outcast isn’t nearly as much of a threat because one can survive simply by moving to another region, or even just a different neighborhood within the same city. One can go almost anywhere and just get another job. It’s very unnatural. In the past, if one doesn’t agree to the terms of the culture, or one’s family, or religion, or politics, or whatever group they were born into; they are cast out. Even now they are still sometimes killed. This is a most effective tactic. Being labeled crazy or insane, and/or removed works brilliantly. The point I’m wanting to make is the fractal: If one turns within one will notice their own ego does this with internal states.

So we can see, regardless of the actions of any one person, this culture sustains, and maintains itself, all on it’s own without anyone overseeing the process. It happens naturally, that is to say, unconsciously. A preacher man will say God is doing it, this orchestrating. This shows that the culture has its own unconscious same as we do. In these terms, culture could easily be considered a demi-god, or some such. It is a force within our own individual unconscious, and also, our individual psyche is inside the collective psyche. In technical terms we cannot actually separate these phenomena. Most don’t want to think about it, because it removes a sense of control, but humans have a hive mind same as ants.

This is why stepping off into nature is so critical. Please take a moment and look at yourself Brother in these terms. What does the individual ego do with foreign ideas, impulses, instincts, drives, wants, or needs? Particularly if one is inside of this collective psyche. It seems to me only stepping off alone into nature, thoroughly, gives one enough space to see this phenomenon clearly.

The most important issue here is the words. Words are magick! I’m using several words, concepts, ideas, that mean the same thing, but are used according to their angle. This is always happening. The Self, god, and the unconscious are all synonymous. Their use depends on which way we are looking at the thing. From one angle it looks like God, from another angle it looks like Truth, from yet another it looks like the Self, and then there is the Unconscious. These are all the same things essentially, but are used accordingly. I’ve got to hammer on this because it’s remarkable to me that every time I’m talking to a Brother whom I know is blessed with intellect can’t hear what I am saying because of his bias about the word God. Brother, are you intelligent or not? I don’t care what you call it, see the thing. God is the easiest word to use, for very obvious reasons. For reals man, if a fella gets hung up on the word God, instead of just realizing what is going on; he might as well just be another dumb religious bigot.

My story is not unique. If my story was unique that Watts bit couldn’t be the case. It wasn’t just Watts either, it was Castaneda too, and also Joseph Campbell. My story reads very similarly to Campbells. He too, said fuck it in college, went off alone in the woods and just did nothing but read books for five years. I did that too. The hero myth happens to all males. Not all males though, finish the quest. Most don’t know there is another myth to follow that of the Hero. The Fall.

This takes the specialness right out of it. It only appears special to people who don’t know anything about it. We can go to Peru and a shaman is just a regular everyday part of life. Same thing in China. India. It’s this Western culture that makes ordinary things seem so special. Ordinary doesn’t sell. There is a real reason the Church murdered anyone who said god was within.

Here in America we aren’t being murdered anymore for our spiritual beliefs, but the Church did it’s work brainwashing everyone. Now they use public education, and “science.” If one pays attention they control what is reputable science, in the same exact way the Church controlled the word of god.

My saying I’m a shaman, in this culture, is almost always instant freak status. Mystic isn’t really any different. Even the supposedly “woke” people I know here in Springfield MO, balk, snicker, judge, and make fun of one such as me, who knows he is a shaman. I mean, who am I going to side with? These locals who don’t even study? Or a guy like Watts? No brainer buddy, no fucking brainer.

Jung coined the term archetype as a way of saying, or talking about this very peculiar phenomenon that plays out in the lives of humans. I don’t think we pick our archetype if we say, or pray, to be what we were born to be. At that point, it simply happens to us. I mean, if we are going to be honest about it, it was, is, already happening before we even become aware it is happening.

I was just being dragged along. I didn’t consciously pick any of this; it has simply happened to me. I eventually made the appropriate vows, and my unconscious synchronized every single last thing I needed to make it happen. I could never have consciously orchestrated any of it. When I was thirty I didn’t even know that what I have become was even an option. I promise you my ego very much wanted something very different for me.

Two extremely important events happened in the beginning of my life that brought about the seeking of God. Not events in the singular sense, there’s no specific point in time that I can specifically point to, but little mini story events. Processes. Experiences. One of these experiences was that as a small child I had first hand experiences of the unconscious. Later in life I found out that the trauma I had experienced as a child opened a window, or door in my mind into the unconscious. This is extremely common, and yet most of us traumatized people are very confused about this happening to them.

Childhood trauma opens a door in our minds. My child mind could not know what was happening. I was being taken to church and would hear all about this guy in the sky. That’s the second experience overlapping the first. I was being told about this guy and his amazing powers, and also, due to the trauma I had my very own door into that realm. Having this door of my own into the unconscious (god) why would I not believe what the preacher man was saying?

My child self had no context at all. It was as real to me as it could get. I also saw synchronicity all the time, which appears as god orchestrating events in our lives. On top of this I could see into the unconsciousness of others, so I had an understanding of why things played out. I got this INFJ thing going on. It requires no effort on my part to look right into a person’s mind, and to see their unconscious motivations. I was doing this as a child. The childhood trauma was such that I literally needed god (direct contact with my own unconscious) in order to survive. God was my companion when no one else was. You could say that as a young child I had a longing to know god because my life depended on it. This longing has never left me.

For many years, as an atheist, when people would use the male pronouns in reference to god I would always ask; You have seen God’s penis? Fucking incredible!

Unfortunately, as we well know, my early life did not go well. Again, nothing unique about it. It’s just a fact of life. If one is abused, one’s life is going to be shit. It’s the expectation that life shouldn’t be shit that just really piles on the suffering to the suffering. When puberty began to do it’s thing rage became a part of my life. I could clearly see that this guy in the sky did not love me as they told me he would in church. This guy in the sky did not, in fact, protect his children.

Rage is the result of powerlessness, which is exactly what I was in the face of my circumstances. Rage also gives a person an ability to truly focus. Rage is single minded to a fault. Because of lies told by the culture, and the things these ignorant religious people were telling me, I ended up focusing my rage on God. God did this to me! I blamed god for my situation in life, and for not protecting me. Where I grew up everyone was religious, and if someone was atheist they would never have admitted it, so I only ever got the same story about god. I was told over and over that god protected his children, and yet I could plainly see that I was not given this protection. Because of this I felt that god did not love me, so I returned the favor, and did not love god. I fucking hated this guy with my entire being.

What child knows that love and hate are the same coin? Ultimately though, this means that I very much believed in god. I mean, it wasn’t a belief. I know. It may have been possible that I could have recognized that since god didn’t protect me, there was no god, but like I said, I had first hand experience of the unconscious. No one could ever have talked me out of this. No one ever will. I found out later in life, that a person who hates god, finds god faster than one who merely loves god, because the person who hates god thinks of god incessantly, whereas a person who merely loves god does not. My focus on god was intense, powerful, and constantly being refined. This part cannot be underestimated. I did not ever think about anything else. It was all consuming.

Growing up, my childhood was nothing but abuse, and this rendered my twenties a total living nightmare, and even though I would still pray to god in times of need I never stepped foot in a church, nor did I ever stop blaming god for my situation in life. God did not love me. Weird right? Because my unconscious most certainly did. I was all caught up in the words.

The truth is of the matter is that I just got taught all wrong about god because of stupid preacher men. It’s funny, and interesting how the bottom of a barrel changes one. This is exactly what I was talking about regarding the tactics of culture and ego. This phenomenon of capitulating in extremes. Rage always dominated my feelings. Rage was everything. I simply was not in control of anything. Powerless. I maintained this mentality all the way into my late twenties, the typical Christian idea that god was this guy in the sky intervening in my life; just constantly fucking my life up. Nothing but rage.

Because I had been brainwashed basically from birth that I was flawed, and that something was wrong with me; I wasn’t getting the love, I was only ever getting the wrath. All my life, even still now, most everyone has said, or says; something is wrong with that guy. It’s still the case that if I approach anything even near to success all my demons come full effect to ruin my life. It requires tremendous force on my behalf to advocate for myself. My shadow has always been my goodness.

In my lowest moment, came the highest thing. I do not know many who can go as low as I can go. Even now, I am only writing again because I reached another all time low. I’m much wiser now, and I welcomed it this time.

The trauma of my life eventually won out. I put up a good fight forever playing the victim. That’s one of the defense mechanisms of the psyche. We tell ourselves all these lies so that we don’t kill ourselves. We have to build up quite a bit of personal power before we can accept the real truths of our lives. I tried so terribly to not be like those who brought me into this world, but the real truth of the matter is that I did end up exactly like them in more ways than I care to count.

I honestly can’t say how I ever survived. I’ve no way to put the ignorance of my life into a proper context. Just come to Missouri, and pick any random dumb homeless redneck you can find in one of these little shit hole towns, and times it by ten; that was me. Trust me when I say I was one of the dumbest mother fuckers alive. I’d brag about my breakfast of champions, a Marlboro Red and a can of Mountain Dew. I was just plain fucking stupid.

I had the hardware to be brilliant, but I did not have the software. All I had was viruses, and malware. My life became such that it was about to be over. Not due to reckless self hate, but by literal direct actions. I was gearing up to actually take my own life. I had completely run out of places to run to. I had effectively burnt all bridges. I was in such a state of despair that I was preparing to make choices that would ruin my life forever. The gig was up. I had locked myself in a bedroom to prevent the female I was living with from getting to me. She was baiting me. She needed me to prove her right by beating her ass. She wanted her shit life to be self fulfilled same as I was doing. We were slow killing each other. We were unconsciously repeating our trauma. I didn’t want to go back to prison though. I’d rather die. I was preparing to die. She was me, I was her, and we were destroying each other together. She wasn’t big enough to break the door down, and I wasn’t ready to go to prison. I was ready to die.

I had just lived the worst years of my adult life. Five to be exact. Believe me, this is saying a lot. I was thirty years old, and just an absolute amazing piece of shit. Three decades of solid madness, trauma, and abuse. These last five just iced the cake. I was done with life. I was laying in bed praying that I would not wake up.

I’ve never been one to be suicidal, but now I was changing my mind. Actually, I had always railed anyone who even talked about it. I still didn’t quite have the heart to go through with it, so weak ass male that I was, I was praying to the guy in the sky to do it for me. Begging. I was begging to just take me while asleep. Let me get hit by a car, or crushed at work. I was praying to just not wake up. With all my heart, all my mind, with everything I had; I was praying for a way out of my dogshit life. Begging that guy in the sky while this insane little version of me was on the other side beating on the door. I began plotting on how to do what god seemed unwilling to do.

It just happened, suddenly, and clear as a bell. A voice in my mind said; GOD DOES NOTHING THAT ONE CAN DO FOR THEMSELVES. It was not the normal voice I hear when I talk to myself. It was a profound and numinous voice. Clear and loud. It cut right through my madness. My life changed instantly. I capitulated on the spot. I sat up in the bed; and declared: enough of this! Holy shit what a weak and pathetic piece of shit I was.

I got exactly what I was praying for: I died, and was reborn.

I’ve learned to put things in a first person narrative. I call this keeping it real. I keep everything real, and down to earth as they say. I’m asking you to do this. We can apply this to the life of Christ. If one really wants to understand the story of Christ one needs to put themselves in that spot personally. For instance, imagine learning some straight mystical shit, but are also surrounded on all sides by some of the dumbest monkeys ever, then going out and touching a few people, effectively healing them. What happens? They run and tell others right? Next thing you know, more people are gathered around. You spit some truth, touch and heal a few more people, and what happens? Next thing you know there are a few thousand people gathered around.

It would happen the same now as then, and it wouldn’t be long before the government comes to shut it down. Culture ain’t having that. That would undo the whole thing. This really isn’t that hard to imagine. Take away the god stuff, take out the ideals, and just read it like a human living his life. Someone comes along with some real shit, in a fake culture, and man he’s got to fucking go. They strung his ass up, same as would happen now. This fractal is real, and everywhere.

My story isn’t as grand as Christ’s obviously, but still human. It was only a voice in my head, same as any other human that has ever lived has had. It’s true, it’s one I had not heard before, which is something a great number of humans have also experienced and talked about. One that spoke very differently than my talking internal voice. Think about all those religious stories. It shouldn’t be difficult in this Chrisitan culture, what it means to have lived a Christian life, and suddenly hearing this voice in my head, talking all godlike. Remember I was as ignorant as one could be.

How hard would it be to think that voice was god? I’ll tell you; it was the easiest thing ever. How many prophets did exactly that? How many times has a person had a vision, or heard a voice, and ascribed it to god? In my story, at that time, where else could that voice have come from? God was the only category I had for such an experience. I did at least, somehow magically, manage to keep it to myself. Everyone already thought I was crazy, so I wasn’t about to add that shit to the list. I did not suddenly start going around claiming I had direct contact with god, as so many others have. I had no interest whatsoever in being strung up. I hated god, so I wasn’t suddenly going to go around vouching for him. I did the opposite, and just went off alone into nature.

It changed my life like nothing else ever has. I immediately went about doing what I needed to do, and because of how profound that experience had been I continued to listen to that voice. Matter of fact, from that moment on I have only ever really listened to that voice. Any time that I have not, it has gone very badly for me. That voice has never led me astray. Not ever.

I won’t lie Brother, my ego loves this particular bit. When we take up the call it’s almost all ego smashing, but once in a great while it goes our egoic way. Once in a while something happens that our ego actually enjoys. When the voice came through, the lease on the house we were living in was up in a couple of weeks. That was one of the reasons there was so much tension between that female and I. It was pure love/hate. It was reaching the apex. If we would have stayed together it would have killed us both in the wrong way, so when that voice came through I called it off.

Because of my terror, and the situation with this female; I didn’t have anywhere to go. No family, no friends, no options that I could see. No one wanted me around. I had this voice now though. This female was just like me, and one of her ways of keeping me locked down was to always spend all our money. We were so plagued with insecurities we had these ways of keeping the other on lockdown. If I never had money, I could never leave to go actually do anything. It also meant I never had the money to leave her. So between my own fear, and her tactics, I was always feeling totally fucked, and trapped.

Now that I had this voice I no longer cared what anyone thought about me, and I was going to face my terror. Something about acknowledging the truth about one’s own self renders the opinions of others meaningless. My single greatest fear in life was being alone, but my conviction to take it into my own hands was full effect. I checked into this cheap dirty motel in town. This was rather embarrassing because in these small towns everyone knows everyone else’s business. Everyone would know where I lived. I could only afford a pay by the week place because I had no money saved up at all. Paycheck to paycheck.

I went in, and declared that I’m not coming out until I don’t care about being alone anymore. In my mind, I was thinking no female was going to be with a guy who lives in such a place. Not any female I would want anyways, and so this made sure I didn’t just find another female to fill that hole in my chest. I committed to it; I wasn’t coming out until I didn’t care anymore. Brother, it took six months. Dark days. Just constantly sitting in the fact of what a piece of shit I was. Six months before I could bear the constant pain of having a hole in my chest where my heart should be without using anyone to fill the void.

One of the realizations I had living in that dirty motel was that the kind of female I wanted: Did not want a guy like me. I was straight up terrified no female was ever going to love me because I was so fucked up. I was taking responsibility fully for my total piece of shit status in life. Really coming to terms with just what a fucking loser I was. I was taking full stock of myself.

I learned a most important lesson here. I was finally all alone, and was seeing myself more clearly. I had no one. My worst nightmare was a living reality. I could more clearly see how others perceived me, and how that had an effect on me. People judge very shallowly. Said simply, when people see a guy that appears attractive they put certain expectations on him. People did this to me constantly. They expected me to be this thing I simply was not.

This is actually a sorcerer’s tactic for removing one’s self importance; on the same day, go to the same place, but dress entirely different each time. For instance, I will go to the square downtown for the first half of the day dressed looking like one of the many homeless. Then I’ll go home, change into something dapper, and go back downtown. It is remarkable how differently one gets treated. It becomes obvious when this happens, it becomes self evident, that people expect a person to be how they appear to be. Thinking about how this might be just isn’t the same as experiencing it.

So you see Brother, by being fully alone, I gained this insight into the minds of not only myself, but others, and this is essential to have. This is an incredibly important experience to have first hand. It teaches one the machinations of the psyche first hand.

At this time, I worked, worked out, and went to my nature spot every day. That is also when I fully capitulated my ego over to my body. Being all alone, I just gave it up. It’s rather marvelous looking back at it how all this information came through simply by taking responsibility. I learned a great deal about myself in that six month period. I quit smoking cigarettes, which was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I think I must have quit thirty or forty times in that six month period.

One time I remember getting so mad at myself I crushed a half a pack in my hand and spiked it into the trash can. FUCK! Hour and a half later I was smoking a broken cigarette like a crackhead. I had chain smoked for nearly fifteen years. I had stretches in my smoking career where I’d smoke two or three packs a day. I positively loved to smoke, but the real truth is that I hated. I was only ever slow killing myself as quickly as possible. I had only ever just wanted to die. I did make it happen though, and I quit completely. I no longer wanted to die. Working out every day helped make cigarettes enemy number one. Working out is pointless if one continues to smoke. I literally brainwashed myself into hating them; another most valuable lesson. I learned to completely override myself. I made many things happen during this time.

That taking responsibility bit is no joke. In my twenties I had gotten up to 275 lbs. I really was just one great big fat dumb idiot full of self hate and rage. A month or two before that voice came through I had been looking at myself in the mirror, and I saw that my titties were sagging. NOPE! NOT FUCKING HAPPENING. I immediately went on a diet, and had lost like forty pounds, but this only further fueled that female’s insecurities. Any self improvement on my part in her presence made my life hell. She needed me to be a piece of shit to fulfil her own bullshit, so once we separated I started working out every day.

I made myself become a long distance runner. I brainwashed myself into loving to run. Once one learns to brainwash their own mind, life becomes very different. The real reason I quit smoking was because I realized I was going to die. I had smoked so much, I was quite literally going to die from it. I had to take drastic actions. I had read that a fella could renew his lungs with use, and man I fucking used them. I quit smoking before I left that motel, and a year and a half later I ran a marathon. I think I logged another half marathon within a year of that marathon.

I also bought a bike, and would ride that thing for hundreds of miles a week. I’d run six miles before work, then go for a forty mile ride after work. In the peak of my running myself into the ground trying to renew my lungs, I would run thirty to forty miles a week, and bike one hundred to two hundred miles a week. In the peak of my training I only ever worked, and worked out, with my daily trip to my nature spot. I had a route I would run so I could stop and eat some food every four miles.

I ended up renewing my entire body. I was born yet again. Renewed in body and spirit; All alone, with no one to hold me back except myself: I went fucking ham.

I won’t lie. During this entire time my main worldly motivation was getting a female. I am only a monkey after all. It wasn’t entirely one hundred percent true that I didn’t care about being alone yet. I was just simply willing to actually be alone. I could bear it. We will talk about this in greater detail from another angle later, but I had a massive mothers complex. It completely dominated my life. It was what had been ruining my life.

I really believed that if I could have gotten one of these equally traumatized females to love me, then that would actually mean I was worthy of love. My mind was so fucked up. Nothing, not one thing I ever did wasn’t in my mind a way to eventually get the love of a woman. I was actually just traumatized about my own mother never loving me, but I couldn’t bear to feel that yet. That would take fifteen years to fully embody. Let me tell you, there is nothing manly about doing everything just to get a female’s love whatsoever. This way of being actually fucks a guy’s life up completely. I had to start somewhere though. I couldn’t know this yet, and I don’t think it mattered. The energy of that, the drive of it, enabled me to really push myself into a place of self love instead of self hate. She, whoever she was, was my muse.

My going out in nature every day, and having it out with myself was fundamental to that process. Out in nature it was just me, having it out with me. No outside influence. I had an entire life of everyone telling me how I should feel. Giving me apathetic advice like, just to let it go, get over it, move on, shit happens. No one was comfortable with my rage. Alone though, no longer caring what anyone thought; I took up my rage full effect. This is absolutely fundamental initially in regards to a fella finding his own feelings. I was starting to put it all together. My rage was mine, and no one was ever going to talk me out of it. I had earned my rage fair and square.

Oh Brother! How my ego loves this part. Imagine ten years later. The ex wife I mentioned who had played that Watts lecture, same one, had also been a friend of mine most of that ten years. We met a year or so after my reincarnation. She was my main female support because I could actually talk about my feelings with her without being judged, because she was just as crazy as I was. For many years we were best friends. I was ten years older than her, so this provided me a way to talk about things I couldn’t talk about with others. She looked up to me for how I was changing my life.

The mother’s complex rendered me quite feminine, so we were basically girl friends. I don’t think we were together yet intimately, when for my fortieth birthday she bought me my first Castaneda book. Most of this ten year period, from thirty to forty, I was fairly strictly scientific about my thinking, so I wasn’t reading anything about magick, or any other kind of what I considered at that time to be woo woo shit yet. The path of the Eastern Mystic is to go straight for God. One does not waste any time learning what they call siddhis. I was pretty hardlined about a lot of things. I did not ever attempt to strengthen my psychic abilities, nor did I ever attempt to learn anything considered occult. I deemed all these things dangerous.

The path of the Eastern Mystic is to go directly for the source. Straight shot for God. One is not supposed to purposefully acquire any of these extra powers. It turns out that these things just happen anyways, when one goes straight for god. So my shock was thorough and complete when I read that first Castenada book.

This Castaneda book was the first truly magickal book I’d ever laid hands on. Oh man. It blew me out of the water. I immediately acquired the rest of them and nom’d them down like my life depended on it. Page after page of mind blowing material because I had personally lived so much of what I was reading. It was really doing a number on my ego. Page after page of validation. I’ve never read anything more validating.

Brother imagine my shock when I read the part where don Juan tells Carlos that every great sorcerer that has ever lived, at one time checked himself into a dirty motel, and didn’t come out again until he didn’t care about being alone anymore! Brother I was stupefied. When I was thirty I had no idea what I was doing. I was only ever going out in nature to my spot, and praying for all I was worth; I just want to be what I was born to be; not what these people had made me. That is all I wanted; to just be what I was born to be.

My brother John was around during this time. Try to understand in that ten year period I had no context at all for the things I was doing. None. No one I knew even cared a little for anything mystical at all. None of the Eastern mystics I’d read about ever talked about sorcery. They keep this part tight lipped.

Everyone in my proximity just simply wrote me off as crazy, so to me it was the same as it had always been; Everyone was still saying that something was wrong with me. After establishing contact with my inner being, I didn’t care, and just kept at it anyways. In this ten year period I used my rage to great effect, and shadow worked, and smashed the ego of anyone who came my way. Instead of becoming a real murderer like most who were raised as I had been raised, I became the destroyer of everyone’s fake ass sense of self. I became a real deal ego smasher. I call this turning shit into gold. It seemed to them, most often, that I was causing them great harm, but in reality I was doing the greatest thing one can do for someone. Turning on the light.

I had been dropping knowledge on John for years before getting that Castaneda book. He came over for a visit one day, and I read to him a story from one of the books. It was almost word for word some shit that had gone down between him and I. His jaw dropped like mine had dropped. He said, man you are my don Juan. I just laughed and laughed just like don Juan did when dealing with Carlos’s stupid ass.

My dumb redneck ass still doesn’t exactly know how to wrap my mind around all of this. My only context still to this day is only these books I’ve read. I don’t know anyone personally who does what I do. I had done something way bigger than I could have ever imagined. You tell me Brother, am I going to go with a dumb local that has never really studied at all? Or am I going with Watts, Castaneda, and Campbell? No brainer buddy, no fucking brainer. Poor thing. That poor, poor female, sitting there validating my experience, and just whining and crying the entire time I smashed her stupid fake ass sense of self into shit. I set that bitch free. Enough of my ego; Let’s get back to God. Rama Rama Rama Rama

Synchronicity is a big word. It’s loaded. Typically when an example is given it is light and easy, you know, that time you thought of someone and suddenly they called, or texted you. That is too simple a definition though. That is actually a psychic experience. That hardly explains the workings of God, the unconscious. Jung is the one who coined the term synchronicity, but I personally don’t like the simple definition.

In my syntax, in order for it to be considered synchronous, it needs to be quite complicated, and unexplainable consciously. We have to consider all the things that would have needed to happen in the lives of the other people in my life, so that they did what they did in my life. I have to consider all that must have happened for these events to synchronize. It’s just not the same thing as thinking of someone and they call or text. I’m talking about entire archetypal motifs playing out. The immensity of this is beyond human consciousness. I’m not sure they got a supercomputer that can compute that level of orchestration yet.

I can tell a story about an event in my life, that I consider to be the most synchronous moment ever in my life. It was the repeating of a situation that had happened when I was seventeen, but when it played out the second time I was in my thirties. I will relate this story later as well, because it really illustrates the spiral of life. The Ouroborus. It is mind boggling to consider the level of orchestration required to have duplicated that event, but it did happen.

Read here; everything is synchronous; everything. We just notice it the most when it materializes in overtly obvious ways. Historically, it has been God who has been accredited with being the great orchestrator. Most feel more comfortable hearing that it is our own unconscious doing this, because that would actually be the truth. Said either way, the phenomenon is true; there is a great orchestrator in our lives.

The synchronous event I speak of now is still mind boggling even though it didn’t take a full decade to play out. My grandmother, who is a devout Christian, purchased me some books at a book sale she went to. Only one of the books was religious, and because of my angst regarding religion, and the title of the book, I simply put the book on my bookshelf and forgot about it. For months and months it just collected dust. I had no intention of ever reading it. I just kept it because I love books, and it made my bookshelf look fuller.

I had pretty much quit reading entirely after getting out of prison, and filled my time with video games instead. The modern addiction of any Puer Aeternus. I no longer employ either of these practices. I don’t have time for video games, and I have enough books now that I don’t need any fluff. This was the beginning of my legit reading career. At thirty I took a vow, and would only ever read non fiction that pertained directly to my situation in life.

At this time I was still living alone, but with a roommate. It was a cheap arrangement. We never talked really, I just rented a room out of his house. I worked. I worked out. I had vowed to stay single even after moving out of that dirty motel. I was going to stay single until I had a solid grip on my own mind. I knew that I had to learn how to think before attempting to deal with my feelings. No more relationships until I got my shit together. I was still agonizing over my life, the pain of the trauma, and the pain of being alone. I was still seeking for truth in my life. It would be fifteen years before I closed the gap. It was all I thought about being so alone in life.

I could think of nothing else, but god, and my shit predicament in life. I literally did not think about anything else. Pure focused rage. I was so conflicted on the inside. Insane. That moment of clarity that had changed my life had not cured my insanity.

One evening, with the weight of it all pressing down on me, I began, same as I had done before, praying with all my might. I was lost in life. Sure, I had taken responsibility, but that did not tell me what my purpose was. My whole life was a fucking lie. I prayed to god; I just want to know the truth, I don’t care how much it hurts. I JUST WANT TO KNOW THE FUCKING TRUTH.

As soon as I said those words I “unconsciously” rolled over onto my side and my eyes locked on that book my grandmother had given me. Discover the Power Within You by Eric Butterworth. This book was written by a minister, which is a title I held in disdain. I had a real good reason for never wanting to hear anything a preacher man had to say. I reached over, pulled it from the shelf, and nomed that shit. I can nom a 350 page book in a day if I want to easily. If it calls to me I will knock down a book like a starving fat kid with a cake. Life changing book.

It was so ironic to me, that a minister spit some fire. It changed my life, just like that day the voice spoke to me so clearly. How could we say it was any less numinous of an experience, except this time the voice was not in my head. This time god was speaking to me directly through a book.

Pay attention; I wasn’t praying to further validate my ego. I wasn’t making a trade. You know what I’m talking about, God if you do this I swear I’ll never do this again kind of thing. I wasn’t praying for something that “I” wanted. I had given up. I was lost. I was praying for the truth, whatever that may be, regardless of consequence. I even said exactly that; I DON’T CARE WHAT THE CONSEQUENCES ARE! Hopelessness embodied. That is not what an ego does when it is perpetuating it’s sense of self, the ego very much cares about consequences, particularly to its own sense of self. Unlike the brothers who come my way, I had no one to turn to for a proper ego smashing; I had to smash my own ego.

Turns out that book was nothing like what I thought it would be. Turns out that my grandmother would not have even purchased that book for me had she known what it was about either. If my grandmother read that book it would send her into a psychotic fit because it so completely contradicts the lie she has lived her entire life regarding that guy in the sky. That book put forth an idea completely different from any I had ever heard before. Holy shit I was so ignorant!

Remember now, dumbest fucking Missouri white boy ever. My stupidity and ignorance could not be underestimated. Keep in mind too, among many others, I had recently read a Max Lucado book of all things. That fucking guy is a real douche of a preacher man let me tell you. Even in my state of near complete ignorance I knew that Lucado book was shit. He says the same crap my grandmother spits. I wasn’t interested in that crap; I was legitimately seeking God. So I was rather shocked when a preacher man hit me like that with some fire.

Ironically, this book my grandmother gave me put me on a path that would eventually lead me to becoming an atheist. It was the first step in that process. Please think about this, about how I even got that book in the first place, which was an unconscious purchase on the part of my devout Christian Baptist grandmother. How it was just sitting there on my bookshelf forgotten about, waiting, and how at that exact time, place, and need, I rolled over and unconsciously locked eyes on it. That ain’t some random shit.

Please put this in perspective. I prayed to god for the truth, and god gave me atheism. At least in the stereotypical Christian sense of the word that god is this guy in the sky intervening in our lives. That book completely undid that way of thinking in my mind. That book talked very clearly about how Christ was not god, as Christians had always told me he was. Use that first person narrative. Read this part slowly; I had an entire life of talking to a guy in the sky, only to have the guy in the sky tell me he’s not a guy in the sky. Something fucky is going on around here.

Of course I did not immediately become an atheist on the spot. We don’t undo a life of habitually thinking a certain way, especially about something as emotionally charged as god, in a single day. I spent many months arguing with preachers and priests. Anyone at all really. I became friendless because I’d wear anyone out who came near me with it. I would literally set up appointments with preachers at their churches to argue and debate, and if they were not interested in arguing/debating theology, I would use the crisis of my life to get in their offices.

I’d use trauma, and my loneliness, under the guise of needing help. I was a poor lost sinner in their eyes who was in need of saving. No preacher man in good faith can turn down a guy whose life has been destroyed by childhood abuse like mine was. I argued for several years with friends, family, and foes, working it out in my head. It was a long and often painful process undoing a life of indoctrination, immersed in this Christian culture.

Funny thing though, is that I completely wrecked more than a couple of these preacher men. I caused one to retire by the time I was done with him. When I was done working that douche over he knew his whole life was a lie. What’s that saying? Better late than never. He gave a sermon one day about even Jesus taking a day of rest, as if this guy ever performed even remotely close to that level. He did nothing but get the biz from me.

Try to understand this process; why would this be so? Why would god tell me there is no god? My mind was lost now. Please think about this process I am describing. It’s going to have to happen for you. It doesn’t matter what it is; whatever it is Brother, it must be undone. Your life same as mine in this culture is a total fucking lie.

This is when I began really putting spiritual ideas into different terms. Not knowing about Jung yet, I too began rephrasing spiritual concepts into scientific terms. Jung was a master at this. I, too, figured out that spiritual concepts are just physics in effect. It’s like how this culture judges those in the recent past about being superstitious. I see that still being the case, except now instead of the Church, it’s Science.

I thought, this isn’t god; this is physics, and since we can’t see physics in this monkey suit, everyone just calls it god. It’s the same with the psyche. Those who do not understand the psyche attribute it to some god or other. I’m here to tell you, the thing that humans have historically called god has been found.

This is exactly what the Peruvian shaman does, having absolutely no Western scientific syntax whatsoever. In his culture, his way of talking about it; is scientific to them, but it’s not to us. We need Discernment Brother. The South American shaman puts everything he sees into a spiritual syntax, and to the jungle culture the spiritual syntax is the scientific one. They literally use the word spirits. We use the word DNA.

The Creator of Life on Earth is DNA. Nowadays, everything that can be ascribed to god can be put into scientific language. Meaning that it is just how it works, and that it has nothing to do with some guy in the sky. As was pointed out in the very beginning of this chapter, we are not talking about the Creator of the Universe. We are only ever talking about the human experience of some god or other. Most cannot even fathom their own psyche, let alone totality. There is nothing woo woo about it, except for the choice of words. Most mystics, lacking a scientific syntax used poetic words. What I call high end spiritual jargon.

It took a long time for me to put all this together in my own mind. It did not just happen one day, after an epiphany. It took thousands of books, countless hours of discussions. Shit tons of suffering. Knowing is embodied. One must slowly come to this so as not to become completely inflated. The full realization that quite literally; God is within: has to come on slowly or one goes insane with it.

If you know anything about Christian culture at all, you will know it is one of their favorite concepts. In order for the domestication tactics built into religion to work effectively, they have to mix in a certain amount of truth. It is the precise concept that my grandmother uses; just pray, and turn it over to god. This is a fact. A real truth. I’ve demonstrated it clearly, but it’s only half true.

Remember; God does nothing for a person that they can do for themselves. The issue is, if one also gets a lie with the truth, such as that god is a guy in the sky, it keeps one all fucked up. They say quite emphatically, let god handle it. Everything is god’s will. God’s design. God’s plan. Bleh bleh bleh. The woman was literally saying it to me last week, in my forty fifth year of life, the year 2021 of the Lord. She’s still over there saying the same ignorant shit. She willfully blocks out any and all contradictory information that she has received from her Baptist preacher men. She has flat told me she will not read my book. She does not do a great many things that she is more than capable of doing for herself. This is an incredible display of domestication. This tactic is used to fill pews.

I can’t count how many times I’ve heard this advice; to just turn my problems over to god, the mysterious man in the sky, instead of telling me to, or at least showing me how, to figure it out on my own. Such a thing just would never fill the pews. This is why shamans don’t have churches. They do not preach. They do not purposefully create a following.

Most all atheists ridicule this concept because they say there is no god, but as has already been pointed out; if one is going to be atheist one must still account for this high level of orchestration occurring. More often than not they are no better than a religious bigot because they don’t ever actually attempt to figure it out. Something fucky is happening, and if it’s not some guy in the sky, then it must be something. No one with any intelligence at all can deny this. The answer comes with compiling syntaxes.

You see, if I could snap my fingers, and magically make one aware of everything that our unconscious is doing at any given second our ego would think we were god. You see, just like Self, God, Truth, and the Unconscious are synonyms, so are ego, self importance, and consciousness, but these are antonyms of the first group of words. The ego is the antonym of god, but yet, it is god. Ego is not in reality separate from the unconscious, because it is literally created by the unconscious.

This is what all spiritual jargon is essentially about; becoming more aware of the unconscious. Through rigorous inner work one can eventually unite the two, consciously, but ultimately they are never separate, and there will always be an infinite amount of unconsciousness. It is this complete identification with the thinking voice in one’s head that makes it appear there is a separation between consciousness, and the unconscious. An important thing to realize is that compared to the ego, the Self is actually all knowing, and this fact puts all that religious crap into a real life meaning. This fact takes all the woo woo right out of it. The Self is the thing looking out for one at all times, throughout all of life. It is no small task delving into the powers of the unconscious.

There are real specific reasons why everyone in this culture gets turned against their own Self.

Think about what I did in these instances of praying to god with all my might as I like to say. What was I really doing despite whatever words we may choose to use? Was I not capitulating my ego over to my own Self? In the religious context, I was turning myself, my sense of self, over to god just like the Christians say one should. I was admitting that I did not know, and was admitting that god, my body actually, did know. The body has something like thirty trillion cells. Man that is a lot of DNA. Here we can just as easily say our body is the unconscious, until we become conscious of it. DNA is literally the creator of our bodies.

My ego, my false sense of self, was relinquishing it’s sense of control, to that of my unconscious. The fact that I called it God, or Self, or my Body, or the Unconscious, didn’t matter at all. Throughout my journey it was at some point considered each of these. Regardless of words, see the phenomenon; I was admitting my thinking was completely stupid and ignorant, and that whatever this orchestrating power was, I was turning over control of my life to that.

Unlike the religious bigot though, I single mindedly sought out just what exactly this thing actually is. My previous experiences had shown me that this thing, what I only knew at times to be god, knew what I did not. In my atheist days, I used the word body. My body knows what is best for me. My body already knows everything. My brain is my body. It has powers that I did not have awareness of. I began looking these things up.

It turns out that my body is the home of the source of all life on earth: DNA. The preacher man whether ignorantly, or purposefully creates this gap, the mind body gap. They preach for all they got about how the animal is bad, less than, etc. They quite purposefully do not want anyone being in touch with their own bodies. According to the Church, for over 2000 years now it has been man’s “duty” to overcome his body. They say it in all kinds of ways. The preacher man, using this doctrine, literally turns a man against himself. They literally prevent anyone who listens to their sermon from ever actually finding god. Just like has happened with my grandmother; they purposefully create dependence to fill the coffers.

My ego could never have synchronized that book. My ego would never have produced that voice, telling me to take responsibility for my own life. It would never have chosen to undo itself. It was only my pure, rage driven focused attention on actually figuring out what god is, that allowed me to find it. I was never in control of which thoughts were getting through.

“Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye, shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.” That’s obviously from some bible or other. Unlike most Christians I have actually read the bible several times in life. Like I said before, they left just enough truth in the book to maintain their domestication tactics.

Another way to say it is; god only wants the strong. The weak remain sheep. It requires great strength to truly seek truth.

These were only a few synchronicities among thousands in my life. I have them day after day after day. Once one reaches Grace it is never not happening. Since my ego, at that time, had not studied the unconscious it had no idea the power within. I was riding that inner voice for all I had. I had not yet studied dozens of Eastern mystics, shamans, and meditators. I had not studied the Tao, Zen, or the Book of Changes. I had not studied the major religions, neither had I studied them from the perspective of these new worldviews. I had not studied human history, anthropology, psychology, physics, magick, or life, so my ignorant ego only knew to call that powerful force god.

In actuality it was simply my own unconscious looking out for me, which it does in the same exact way religions say god does it, because historically, religions have been just as ignorant of reality as my own ego was, and in ignorance we call that force god. Preacher men are the most ignorant of all, well the ones in these local churches anyways. The people running the actual Church are very aware of what they are doing. Pleb farmers.

I will quote again from the bible, when Christ said, “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” You see, Christ is just another synonym for Self. Go and do it. Read the bible with this perspective that Christ is the Self of every human. The whole story of Christ can be read in all manner of ways metaphorically. Allegory. New agers like to use that term christ consciousness. None of these new agers actually study, and I’m yet to meet one that actually knows anything about magick at all. They are just like preacher men spreading half truths.

Know ye not that ye are gods? No thing, No one is required. But it may assist. But eventually you are on your own.

You see, the truth is, the Self is unknowable in totality consciously; Unfathomable. Reading the Tao te Ching will bring much illumination here. You can effectively apply every metaphor you’ve ever heard about god, tao, to the Self, the body, the unconscious; they will all be true.

This means no one can ever know you, and this is why loneliness is the path. We can’t even know our own selves. This dissolves all sense of control. This is a play on words. We can’t think a thought that would be god. No amount of words will ever be that. We cannot hold in our thoughts all that is the Self. We can’t hold in our thoughts all that is the unconscious. We can know it though, but that is free of thoughts. We can most definitely know it, even though we could never put it into words. If I even attempted to word it; its gone. Thinking thoughts is not the thing. The words can only bring one around such that they turn inwards and find it for their self.

This is why it is so rare to find someone who legitimately seeks god, because the ego cannot bear to be alone. The ego cannot stand truth, at least initially, so the ego must be smashed to shit. This is what I meant in the beginning of this by saying I know because I have gotten over myself. I was alone as a small child, and I think this accustomed me to loneliness more than others. I’ve been able to endure the loneliness, where most others capitulate to culture.

The ego needs culture; it is culture: Brother you are culture. To step out of culture is death; death of the false self: loneliness of the loneliest kind, and that is where one will find the truth within one’s self. Once one legitimately steps out of culture there will only be this organizing force for comfort. This god, the Self, our unconscious is unknowable, which obviously is not comforting. Where is the sense of control in never not knowing? It takes a great deal of personal power to simply sit in the terrifyingness of life. It takes a lot of power to not have a control button. There is something beyond words, knowing that when I walk out the front door of my apartment the whole Universe rallies behind me. It could however, just as easily destroy me. None of this has ever been up to me.

I’ve paid my dues though, so I’ve been asked to write it down. My unconscious has made it pretty clear to me that if I don’t write this down it’s going to snatch my soul. When I was a child, they made me sing the song Jesus loves me this I know. I would go home, and there was no love. It has only ever been in my lowest moments, that I achieved the highest realizations. So the real truth is, because of the way the preacher man, the way culture, has turned us against ourselves, the real truth is that God is in the lowest, the darkest, and that is where we find his love. It is in the darkness, that we find the light. This is a literal metaphor Brother; our DNA is in the lowest, smallest, darkest recesses of our being. DNA is alive and conscious. This has been proven.

This is why everyone around here thinks the shaman is crazy. The shaman will ruin a person’s false sense of self, and there they will find truth. No one trapped in culture wants that to happen.

The Universe loves me! This I know,

For my Soul tells me so;

Little egos to It belong;

They are weak, but Self is strong.

Brother you give me even half a chance, and I’ll smash your fake sense of self to fucking bits. Don’t you worry little Brother, your unconscious will save the day. I can drop this type of knowledge for months on end. I can spin this from every possible way. You just swallowed the red pill bruh. I’ll see you on the other side.