Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 15

Well? Alfred said to me. When will you understand, you are not my friend, you are my close companion?

I don't understand the question.

You need help from me, sweetie. Alfred said. We need help in the field of making fun of your friend Austin. He is a nitwit. He likes you, sure, but he also likes reefer. Do not understand why I say this, but... You are good enough for him!

Please, I don't like him in that way.

Sure you don't, but I understand things a little bit better than you do... I know how long it takes to strive for the top of the ladder, now don't I? You were not my girlfriend last year this time, another bitch was. Why do you ask? Why do you ask if you are my girlfriend or not?

I did not ask, I already know. I am.

Please, You are a good girl, but don't take this the wrong way... You are a little on the pudgy side, okay? There, I said it, phewww... He blew out some air and started playing Solitaire.

When will we understand what I am doing in the world? When do I know how to make an impression?

I can show you how to make an impression, girly whirl, I can show you that right now... He showed me himself wearing a thong and a bikini top. Then, he showed himself taking off the thong, taking off the bikini top, and dancing on stage, completely naked. Then, he showed himself walking around in public with a miniskirt and tank top, rolling a joint and smoking. That's how you make an impression.

I think that's a bad impression. I wanted to make a good impression.

You'll find that out, sooner or later, said Alfred. For now, we need to go to the store and buy watermelon! You need watermelon! It is good for your digestive tract! And he did a watermelon animation.

When we got back from the store, I wrote a facebook status about myself, and watched as no one liked it. Ever since I had gotten good at facebook, no one liked my statuses anymore. I did not wonder about this. I understood. I was too good. They were intimidated. People always liked my dumbfuck statuses, but not my really good statuses.

Alfred did an animation for me. A girl, watching herself in the mirror. Then, a hook comes out of the sky, and pulls her up to Mars, where she becomes ruler of her own tribe of Martians.

Lust after me, Sugar Plum. Lust after me, Alfred said to me.

Ever since the incident with the flowers, I hadn't stopped lusting. I continued to do it, for the shear pleasure of it. It was very satisfying, rolling on the bed in lust of Alfred. I wanted to do it all day long.

Lust, or your mind will become one with itself in a sincere and thoughtless fashion.

I rolled around the bed in lust of Alfred, for awhile. After awhile, he would tell me, okay, okay, I've had my fill! When I did this, I sent him sweet, sweet energy. When it got too intense, because of the anxiety in it, he wanted me to stop.

Sure, it created cords. I just had to keep removing them. They weren't as bad, after the first batch of cords. They affected my vision somewhat, but not as freakily as it was when we first started. We referred to this distorted emotional input from the objects as “wonk.” “Well, that's looking a bit wonky right there! Time to remove some cords!” And then I would breathe deeply, and remove the cord from my body.

They told me something else about these cords. They drain a force called transgressionary life force. This was a force that was absolutely vital to keeping someone alive. If I were to not remove the cords, and walk around with these cords attached, I would eventually keel over and die, with no discernible cause of death.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 14

Why don't you tell me how cute I am, Sugar Plum? Alfred told me one night.

Ooh! How cute! You are adorable, Alfred. To me, you are like a little baby bee. I love little baby bees! They are so furry and adorable!

Why don't you say it again?

Widdow baby bee, sitting in a tree, gives me a kiss and he he he!

Keep going, baby gjrl, keep going...

Widdow baby bee, sitting next to me, loving everything I do, that's him and me!

What else do you think of me?

I think you are sweet, and loving, and tender, and a little baby bee!

Now, come up here with me! He grabbed for my arm, he pretended to pull me up to heaven, and I sat next to him and hummed a soft baby bee song.

This went on for quite awhile. Me oohing and ahhing over him, him loving it, and we were doing just fine, until he decided to do an animation for me.

Close your eyes. This is a good one.

There was a dog walking down the street with an owner walking it on a leash. They came up to the vet's office, took the dog to the counter, the dog hopped up on the counter. It was time to put the dog to sleep. They made an incision on the dog's stomach to harvest his organs and gave him a lethal injection.

The dog is going up to the light. The light darts around a little bit, avoiding the dog, and then the dog enters. As he does so, I got an intense pleasure sensation and breathed very deeply.

Wait, there's more. There's more!

The dog is up in heaven, and they are hosing off his silia. And then-

It's time to be reunited with his soul...

I got an intense pleasure sensation again which shocked me, I breathed very deeply and heard the words...

You're mine. Don't you ever forget that.

The vision was over. I started rolling around my bed in lust, without sending it to my soul.

Roll around on the floor. I like it better that way. Send the energy to him.

I started sending the desperate sexual energy to chance.

Wait for it, wait for it, he's going to send you a cord...

I feel a cord connect to my genitals. I start touching myself to try to get the cord deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

That's plenty deep! We don't want this cord that deep!

I stopped after awhile.

Okay, that was an intense cord. It means you will burn in lust whenever he caresses you.

I needed the energy, dumbfuck. I don't like it when you call me a little baby bee. Someone attacked me and drained my energy.

I was a bit embarrassed. I'm sorry. Are you okay now?

Let's do another visualization.

I turn off the light and lay back down on the bed. I see a man, walking a dog, holding a metal detector, looking for treasure. He finds a hole. Drops a bracelet in to test it's depth. Pours out his coffee inside the whole to test it's size. Then the whole starts growing upwards, consuming both of them. As it does so, I get this intense, dark, strong displeasure feeling. I curl up and breathe heavily in discomfort.

This is what you did to me, baby. The moment you started taking Adderall.

You're sorry? You mean it? Well then, show me! Don't show me, show him!

I start burning in lustful agony, and direct that energy at Chance.

Not on the couch on the floor!

I send Chance some more dark lustful energy.

Two can play that game!

He sends me a cord. I let it attach.

Okay, this is a very, very dark cord. It means he will take pleasure in your suffering.

Another one! Now!

I do it again, and he attaches another one.

Okay, this is another dark cord. It means you will be inept at saying no to his sexual advances.

That's not good enough for me baby, I want to make this as dark and dirty as possible.

I stew in lust again for Chance.

Two can play that game!

He attaches another cord.

Okay, this is another dark cord. It means he will he take out his sexual frustrations with you at inopportune times.

I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. I went in the computer room and drank deeply. My soul started complaining to me about everything he thought I'd done wrong in life.

Like with the teacher. Just make your move. Just talk to her! And you continue being sweet to me even though I cause you psychological damage!

He was mad. I still had a very dark feeling left over from what he had done to me, and it was growing. As he complained to me, I thought my soul had turned on me. He was just faking liking me for the energy I sent him when I thought sweet thoughts about him. To drain my precious life force. In reality, he despised me.

Bleed, bitch, bleed!

Okay, this is grandpa. He wasn't supposed to do that. We are not angry, we are mad as hell at him!

Bleed, bitch, bleed!

Okay, here's what's going on. Your soul is a very, very dark soul. We didn't know about this until JUST NOW! You are fine, the mission you are on is still in progress, but we have to get rid of him!

Oh no!

Melanini!

Okay, relax Salioness, calm down. CALM DOWN. That wasn't one of us. That was a spirit from a different spirit circle who didn't know what was going on. The “bleed, bitch, bleed...” that's not him! That's a dark spirit in the room! We did something to him to calm him down on the spiritual plane, he was being unruly. He doesn't mean what he is saying right now. He is being heavily medicated to calm him down.

Later on, Alfred calmed down, and apologized.

You and I are dark souls, Sugar Toots. You know you are dark, you always liked to play games as a kid with dark sexual situations. You know you get a kick out of that stuff, just like I do... I want this situation between chance and you to be as dark and dirty as possible, you know you want that too... We are okay, but if you want to be fruitful and multiply with me you better...

Be fruitful and multiply?

Damn translator! I meant get it on! There is a translator, see, everything we say goes through a translator... Anyway, I love you, always have, always will. We will be together until we split when we both move on to the next dimension. You and me, baby, we go way back. Now, I didn't mean anything I just said to you before this. I was being subdued, and they put me on heavy medication. They had to, because what I was doing was draining your energy and they were losing contact with you.

Really, it wasn't fun what he did to me, but it was no big deal. It didn't bother me that much. It made me feel really important, that it was that important they maintain constant contact with me.

We know where you are going in life and you are going great places. I just wanted you to know, I didn't like the baby bee game, I didn't like you treating me like I was your little child... But I needed the energy, see? It was something one bad soul did to me, they were mad for reasons you wouldn't understand, and they did the equivalent of a spiritual attack on me... The energy rebuilds by itself, but it was easier getting it from you than waiting for it to rebuild... Sugar Toots, don't worry about me, I love you, you are going to great places in life, you are going to get out of your parent's hair and make a living as a psychic medium... Now, why don't you give Maebelle a kiss for me, don't you? It means a lot to me that you still love me, now, bleed, bitch, bleed! I can't believe you believed that was me!

I went to bed that night, feeling good. It was a good night. I was embarrassed about getting into the baby bee game, but it was no big deal. I had Alfred, and he loved me, and I loved him, and that was all that mattered.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 13

I remembered a dream I had, one I described in an earlier book. In the dream, I was at a restaurant with a man, and some other people. It was a man I was involved with. I had been advised never to look this man directly in the eye. At one point, I turned and accidentally looked him straight in the eye. What I saw was that the whites of his eyes were yellow, and there was large dark spot in the middle of one of them, one that should not be there. I stood up and screamed. I started running away, and he started following me. I ran into a restroom, and he was looking at me through a window, moving his eyes around funny, and making animations for me. I had forgotten the part about the animations. Now, I remembered.

Something about that dream reminded me of my soul. Something about the energy. I asked God if this dream was about him.

“It is. Not just him, Brandon too. Two different life situations got meshed together.”

I thought, that explained it. I had had this dream freshman year of high school. It was so weird to think that such a powerful dream I had had such a long time ago was finally becoming important now.

Well, where do you think the rest of the time went? My guides asked me one evening.

I lost my friend Rachel, she was watching me from afar, she left me for my friend Robert, and he left her for Lauroona... my soul sang.

What is that guy's real name? My soul? I asked.

Alfred, Sugar Plum. My name is Alfred. My soul said. I laughed.

I thought he was joking. I didn't think he would really want me to call him Alfred. But then, after that, he insisted on being called Alfred.

What do you call a girl who never receives payment for her deeds? A worker of love. Alfred said. That's you, sweetie. You work hard everyday, doing energy work, believing in the power of the Holy Ghost, and then, you are left with nothing! Nothing! No-thing! And he did an animation of me withering away into nothing.

Why are you saying this? I asked Alfred.

You are never going to make it as a psychic unless you practice channeling without making a sound! He whispered, very quietly.

Well, I am on medication. I have to get off this god damn stuff and then I can channel like a normal person! I screamed.

Hahahaha! You're full of death feelings! You're meds prevent you from imagining outlandish things! He said sarcastically.

I laughed. That was funny.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 12

The next night, my secret lover and I were having a meeting. He met me in the computer room, ran around the room, and I caught him. We embraced. Then, he left. It was my duty to find him.

I looked around the house. He was invisible, so I couldn't see him. I felt the energy of each room, but still, I couldn't see him. I walked around aimlessly. I was having a good time, but somehow I was tired and longed to go to bed.

“Las-agna pan!” He said in my ear.

I went quickly to the kitchen to find him in front of the oven. He hugged me. He took my hand. “Let's have sex.” He said.

We went to the computer room, hand in hand, and I lay down on the floor. He got on top of me and we started having sex. He was not solid, but I could feel an energy shift in my vagina when he entered me. After a couple seconds, he stopped.

Why did you stop?

Oh, I was thinking about something else.

He was making fun of the fact that my mind had wandered at that moment.

After awhile he started again, and I tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

He slowed down again.

Oh, I forgot what I was doing.

Then he left me. He wasn't done, he was just tired. He was making fun of me because I was tired.

Baby, I want to show you something. Put your clothes back on. I want you to see me in the moonlight.

Take his hand.

I reached out for his hand.

You don't have his hand.

Geez, he couldn't even put his hand in my hand? Eventually, I found his hand. I took him out into the back where the stars were shining. He stood behind me, wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his arms wrap around me. Then he stood in front of me.

Baby, I want to tell you something.... You're me.

No, we're not. We are two separate people.

No, you're not. You're me. The one I'm being.

I felt devastation envelope me, with the thought of my soul not being real. Of him being a figment of my imagination. He was referencing something I used to do when I was five. I used to say to myself, over and over again, “I'm me, I'm me, the one I'm being...” It freaked me out a little bit in a certain odd way, because I couldn't quite grasp what “me” was.

No you're not baby, no you're not baby...

Yes, we are one and the same.

He is trying to tell you something. This is what he feels every time you say “you're me.”

Here, let me carry you inside.

He picked me up. I was still standing on the ground, but I felt like I was floating above the ground. He carried me inside. Put me down. Hugged me one last time. And then he was gone.

I thought the whole “you're me” thing was a bit on the cruel side, because I was already fearful that this guy was just a figment of my imagination. I worried about that quite a bit. He insisted that it was not cruel, he hated when I said, “you're me” because of the desperation and pain he felt, thinking that I wasn't real. That I didn't exist. That's how he felt every time I said that.

I talked to my grandma afterwards, the one on the other side. She told me this whole thing was not romantic, it was exotic, because he was on the other side and I was on Earth. I asked what she thought of me saying “I'm me,” as a child. She said she didn't know, there was a bit of controversy up there regarding how normal that was. Some said that was normal childhood banter, others said it was a tad bit advanced for me at that age.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and smiled. I had a secret lover, one that my parents knew nothing about. This was happiness, it was too.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 11

When do you want to see your lover, Salioness? My guides asked me.

Sometime soon, when can I? I asked.

When you are done with your chores, they answered.

I quickly did my chores, and hung out in the computer room.

He is coming down, he is coming down... He's there! My guides told me.

I looked around the room. I didn't see anyone. When I looked at a certain place in the corner, my eyes became transfixed on something there. There was nothing there.

He's down there, go find him! I looked around. His arms touched me. They were warm, yet not solid. I put my arms around him. He put his arms around me. We were in love.

He lay down on the couch. I hovered over him. I looked down at his face. I didn't see anything, yet, somehow, I stared. Subconsciously, I could see a terrifying face. That's why I stared, a little scared but not that much. He got mad and left when this happened.

We think that's all for tonight, my guides said. We will let him come tomorrow.

After he left, I felt the pain of his absence. When he had been here, I hadn't fully appreciated it. Now that he was gone, I wanted him back here with me.

The next day, I was getting ready to go to dinner with my family. I was putting on my shoes, when he came up behind me and swept me off my feet. Not really, but the best you could do for not being solid. We waltzed in the kitchen, and he hugged me, and comforted me, and kept me company.

At the restaurant, we were sitting and waiting when he came up next to me and put his arm around me. When we were eating dinner, he came and freaked me out a little bit by touching me.

It was fun, because he was like my secret boyfriend. I loved him. I could not imagine life without him. It was interesting, how hard I had fallen for an unseen being so quickly.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 10

I was sitting on my bed, on facebook, when I heard a gweeking voice up in heaven.

“Gweek! Gweek! It's Guinea!” My dead guinea pig said to me.

Guinea? I said.

“The Porcupine Tree song would be good right now, the energy is right.” Guinea said.

How do you know? How do you know which song would be good?

“I have been watching your energy for awhile, and it is at about the right place that it is when the Porcupine Tree song is good.”

I jammed out to the Porcupine Tree song, ran around the house and did back flips. When I got back to my room, Guinea had something to say about the ghostly visitation we had one evening when she was new to the house.

“I was staring at the ceiling when it happened. The spirit that came into our room was very much alive, a cyclops with five hands. It tried to be inviting to me but instead it was just terrifying. It tried to tell me that Rachel cared so much about me she was going to kill me on purpose. And then it offered a basket a fruit.”

You were staring at the ceiling?

“Not really. I couldn't look up, remember?”

Guinea told me that guinea pigs are not too smart, but are heavily influenced by primordial knowledge. When Guinea saw squirrels outside, it activated memories from past lives, like the collective unconscious, of squirrels eating her flesh until she bled.

“Another thing that is dumb about being a guinea pig is that there are no fun things to do, ever. I hated everything you ever did with me, Rachel. Not really, but the videos with Barbie and stuff were very painful to make, putting me in the car hurt like heck! It would have been easier to make the car out of cardboard, and then make me a very small opening to choke myself out of the way instead of making me sit in a dumb plastic Barbie car.”

Another cat I knew from Italy, Old Milky, kept calling out to me, and telling me things about how I was doing.

My aunt Linda's cat Tiger Toes called out to me, to tell me she liked me. She didn't like me while I was alive, because I was mean. But she liked one thing about me. My energy. I always had good energy.

Clamor for Concerta, This is the Issue

What do I do with my time? Drugs?

Actually, I crave dopamine or fun or human interactions. Human interactions include word flows, also known as writing.

And we know, Rachel has a conversational handicap. YES. SHE. DOES. Get that through you f-ing minds, people.

As a side note, grabbing for my attention with words or door opening movements: Procede. With. Caution.

One solution to Rachel's conversational handicap is alcohol. No comedown. No bad space risk. Risk of loose lips, noticing I'm not sober, and maybe slight inhibition issues with a small but poignant tendency toward increased interest in sex.

MARIJUANA! EDIBLES! Does everything you want to do, calms the brain down, just makes me frisky sexually frustrated flirting with the mattress. Or wild worlds of fun, but flirt with the mattress one more time and I might grab someone and pull them down into it with me and they will cry. EDIT: Pull from a distance.

Concerta. Less interest in sex, more interest in putting words together. Enhanced well-being leads to relaxing with uncomfortable people and easier conversations in environments where the energy is terrible. Writing abilities enhanced. Increased interest in other people and interactions, with a tendency to isolate and picture read.

Meth. Best and worst option. Enhanced well-being, nothing to show for it, picture read all day and get skinny in one serving but happiness excells! Emptiness. Emptiness. Grab picture, empty, no increased interest in sex for Rachel.

Death: Why Not?

Reflections on death include first and foremost the deeply seated belief that I will die pretty soon.

I don't want to die right now. I want to procrastinate and procrastinate the death scene. I am enjoying being a celebrity even though no one tells me I am. I enjoy posting online, I enjoy conversations with spirit guides and all the radical topics that come up. I am having fun. When I'm not happy, I am struggling to function. There is no jarring sadness.

There is no question that I am on a God-ordained mission in my mind. No worries, legend status over time, with a finale that makes me stick around as a memory of the most important person ever, next to Jesus Christ. I have no worries that I will leave behind a distasteful memory of good ole Rachel Zuhl or Good ole Babylon.

I live entirely in the moment. However, even though I say that, I still crave some sort of "Grand Finale" to life. Maybe a marriage, a relationship, a happy social setting, a boyfriend (ha), or Jesus Christ returning. And I keep forgetting that Jesus Christ himself is scheduled to return sometime. I do not have access to the schedule and I will have to see it to believe it as well. Which is an annoying fact, I have the most faith out of everyone and even I will have to see Jesus Christ return to believe it is possible.

"There is no better feeling than completing a Conscious Mission.

That's what I look forward to, death, but I want to make the best of my time here. I am having a great time but it's also a constant struggle to keep sane.

Aaron: A Stands for [please stay] Away

Aaron was a dude who used to work at Pearl House. He left me feeling indifferent. That's how I feel about him except there are spells he keeps casting and they make me feel kind of Hugh, I mean, high, and fluttery. The spells feel nice and caring. They cast the allusion of caring.

Aaron is also African American.

You know, after the Black Power Brigade Debacle... Shit, I hope I didn't just light a racist fuse in America, looking at whatever that Coffee County news situation was and "arachnophobe." If that's the case, I sure am sorry I said anything about it on Facebook. That's all I did, mention a Black Power Brigade on Facebook. Yeah, so what?

Dude, if you asked me out I would say yes. And that's exactly how I felt about Jason too, see. If he asked me out, I would have said yes (prior to Woo Debacle). Dude, I don't know what to do. Are you just casting spells so you can come find me and say 'ha, ha!" I didn't push Christie and you know that. Everyone should know that or else I wouldn't have made the Black Power Brigade joke. The joke doesn't make any sense if I actually had pushed Christie. And I'm over that too.

Well, all is said and done. So, spells, yes. Then what? I have a couple pleasant memories of reading this guy's mind. He also had an attractive build, accurate pheromones and a face I have no recollection of, but I believe I would recognize him if I saw it again. So I say, why, the best option here is to apologize with a blow job for making a remark that could be seen as racist, and get in on camera because I like being in the limelight. But that's a joke too because I think my guides said one time sex tapes were bad publicity.

You are not ego observer. You just seem like the most jarring option of men in my mind due to a spell. Hey, want a BJ?

By the way, Biden I want to give you a BJ. Not really, but I would rather give you one then Donald Trump.

Which brings us back to the reason I'm not angry that Aaron got someone to cast a love spell. Also, he found a better witch than Donald Trump.

Tanner: A FUG (Fucking Ugly Gunk)

He's dumb. First he laughs his head off nervously whenever he's in my presence. Then he thinks I'm going to get attached to him because of his comment "fuck the police." Then, he tells me to commit suicide by taking a Trazadone.

Now, let's define the word dumb. It does not rhyme with gum. It sounds like numb, and it means nothing. Just wasted space.

Tanner is probably not his real name. I would imagine he would invent a pseudonym that reminded me of a beach bum because he looks like a surfer, and then he would be so so flattered that's a name I would remember when I'm only excited that he actually HAS a name I can REMEMBER!

REMEMBER RACHEL! You are posting a blog right now don't forget about Rebecca the movie!

Then, he won't let it go. Look dude, if you dropped topic, I would stop hating you for your stupidity and mind my own business, look here dude. He has to dress in a pink tutu to work and wear the words "Sugar and Spice" on a shirt. That was an inside joke between Jason and I as we converse after he is dead, that was the funniest part of the email diatribe.

I told him off for it, in a special way that you just had to be there to enjoy. Then, he wears a lucky charms shirt. Ooh, this guy must think he is getting lucky. Now, 11/11 as a birthday is a universal symbol of good luck. A Lucky Charms shirt represents getting lucky, and this guy is gross as all fuck.

Lesbian? No, I'm not a lesbian. Rubbing against other women makes me want to puke just thinking about it. God, that would be just the sickest thing in the world. Rubbing my genitals against another woman's genitals. I never want to do that in my life. I like dicks to some degree, so I stick to an official hetero label. Boobs draw the eye downward.

Also, Tanner's voice makes him look and sound stupid like his ugly face.

Funny. Do you know a Tanner?

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 9

What do you want to do with yourself, Salioness? My guides asked me one day.

Well, I could go to the mall. That would be fun.

Well, we can go with your soul, he wants to go!

We got in the car and drove to the mall. On the way, I watched my soul do animations for me. He showed me a picture of my mother, a dog, and a person with no hair. The three of them meshed into one, to make my mom with no hair as a dog. I laughed.

I watched some more. He showed me a cactus, with no hands. Then, it became a wine cooler, with no alcohol. This is what you are allowed to drink today, Rachel. Alcohol that doesn't taste like it has wine but does. I watched some more. He showed me an image of a cat. It became mixed up with an image of a dog, and he called it, Dog-Cat-Princess Nonay. I laughed, even though this one was dumb. He whispered in my ear as he did it. “She's a cat, she's a murderous wench, she's a wombat.” He showed me something else and it made me laugh. Over and over again, he showed me things that made me laugh.

I rode to the mall, got out, and ate at the Cheesecake Factory. When we went in, they asked me how many. I thought about saying two, but instead said one. They seated me. My guides advised me not to eat too much bread, and eat the steak medallions. I ate, and left. On the way home, my soul did more animations. He showed me a picture of myself, and then showed it become larger and larger, until it could not be stopped with it's massive growing capabilities. When I looked at the picture, in my mind, it had a quality to it that reminded me of my wonderful looking picture on facebook.

He would show me things that reminded me of things too, like a dream I had a long time ago, with a spider. In the dream, I was playing at the house of my two best friends from childhood, when they left, and a spider appeared. I started petting the spider, and a voice said... “Notice it's soft?”

My soul showed the spider dancing and running around the room, shouting, “Catch me, catch me, catch me! Notice I'm loud?”

I laughed, not so much at what he did, but at the reference to the past dream.

What did that dream mean, anyway? I asked my guides.

I will tell you that one, said my soul. It was about fears of social contact at your new school. You are getting in touch with the things that scare you, and letting go of your fears of talking to people.

When we had calmed down after that, my soul showed me a picture of a cat, and some paste. The cat ate the paste, ran around in circles, and stuck to a wall, in a comical fashion. I laughed.

Time to say something about your past, Rachel, my soul said. Weed out the bad people from your past. You know who I'm talking about.

I thought, and thought. Finally, I figured out who he was talking about. Crystal.

He showed me a picture of puke, put it in her hair, and she screamed.

This is how much we like her. Don't ever pretend like you are her friend. She is not a good person.

My soul showed me a picture of Nick, from Innercept. He made it bigger, then smaller, then dance, then twirl, in a comical fashion. I laughed.

This is what you would do to him if you had him. Twist him up and put him in your pocket. Because you love him oh so much! Mwah!

Shut up! I said.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 8

What to do now? I asked myself. It was time to go to my room to unwind. I wanted to talk to my friends, but I had no real true good friends right now.

I went into my room, and lay down. My mind was blank, when I saw something in my mind's eyes. A caboose, piping along, looking disheveled. As it neared a turn, it exploded, in a humorous fashion. I laughed.

“That was me, Sugar Plum,” my soul said in my ear. It was a neural pathway I had now, one which I could listen to my soul easily, by listening carefully.

“I want to show you something. A picture of you and me.” I sat back and watched. In my mind's eye, I saw a trailer. It moved slowly. There was a car in front of it. That was me, he said.

“We are not one in the same, Sugar Plum. We are two souls, stuck together! You are the silia, I am the soul. You gave me a piggy back ride! I have been with you your whole life!” Then, he burst into song. “My silia friend and me, sitting in a tree, eating curds and whey and he he he...”

I thought in my mind, “This guy is a good guy for fun in the mind only, he made a mockery of me the other day.”

I saw something else in my mind. A door, open. Then it shut.

“SHUT UP!!! You are mine! We don't want you here in heaven anymore if you are going to make me into your man friend without love!” he did a cry, a symbol in my mind of tears, and then an idea popped into my head. He was all right.

“Good. Now, eat bread! You are starving!” he showed me a picture of bread. A knife came down, cut the bread in halves. Butter came flying out of the sky around it. Then, a leprechaun appeared and started making bread. “I'm a leprechaun baby, so why don't you kill me!” He sang, his own parody of a Beck song.

“Watch this! I have a show for you!” I watched. I saw a man come up and grab a little girl, and then the girl starts flailing her arms and sobbing for her parents. “I'm gonna kidnap you from this house, and bring you over to chance's!”

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 7

We talked about the things that mattered in life, like my ideas of friendship with my soul. Terrible things happen to people who make crush cords and sex cords to their soul. Terrible things. Yet, they told me it was okay to send him sexual energy.

As I got ready for bed, I was counting my nicotine gum pieces.

“One piece, two piece, red piece, blue piece,” my soul said. I laughed.

Remove the crush cords before you go to bed, please. They will grow and become horrific by morning, my guides told me.

I removed them.

“I wish you wouldn't disconnect those tubes, Marshmellow,” my soul said to me.

I laughed, and disconnected them anyway. They told me that the energy I was sending my soul made him feel really, really good. Better than anything I could have imagined.

I went to my grandma's, and hung out, and waited. As I waited, my soul sent me energy.

What kind of energy are you sending? I asked.

“Loving tenderness. That's what girls want, right? Loving tenderness. But that's not what you want. I know you.”

I laughed.

As we were getting ready to leave, my dad asked me to take something out to the car.

Your soul made a joke about that, up here. Something about your dad's weight and him being a lazy fat slob.

I laughed.

I went to the psychiatrist again. Again, I tried to get him to reduce my dose of Invega. Again, he dragged his feet. He was worried about another “manic episode.” I went to the grocery store with my mom afterwards, and we went to Starbucks. At Starbucks, my guides told me to get a Starbucks Refresher instead of a coffee drink. I wandered around, and vaguely wondered at one point if it was because I shouldn't drink milk right now.

I got home, and my soul said he composed a song for me, about what my mother thought of me.

You're a whore, you're a dirty whore, you're a dirty rotten attention seeking whore, you act like a child, you're a big baby, you need to grow up, and behave like an adult.

Why is it singing this song?

It's mad at you for something you did today. You went to Starbucks at the grocery store, and got a drink without milk in it, the one we told you to get. Then, you wondered if the reason you were supposed to get that one was because it didn't have milk in it. Your soul is mad at you for thinking that because your body needed milk.

I went to my computer to write this down. As I sat there, I absentmindedly peered out the window, down at the garden. There, I saw something so horrific, so horribly, horribly putrid, it hurt my eyes so bad I wanted to gouge them out. “Uhhh...” It was the flowers. The Angel's Trumpets. They were horrific! The humungous flowers dangling, dangling, dangling... Humungous, so horrid, puke, puke, puke... Like something mutated in a garden of horrors. They hurt my eyes so bad they almost bled.

“Blehhh... Sick! That is disgusting! That is disgusting!” It hurt me in a way I have never felt before. That flower, that flower... I had looked at it before. I hadn't bothered me, I even liked those flowers a little bit. But it did something to my eyes, these cords. They drained my energy in a way that affected, not actually what I saw, but the emotional connotations of what I saw.

Okay, sit down, draw the window... We knew this would happen, you have way too many cords to your soul. No more lusting, Salioness, no more lusting. We think we need to do this work, because you have quite a few.

I went back into my bedroom, sat down, and lay there. As I looked around, everything was freaky. The light switch was freaky. The pattern on my belt was freaky. Everything I looked at scared the crap out of me.

We're getting the cords, just wait... It will take a little bit, you'll be fine. Just wait.

Ahhhh!!! I was freaking out.

Put on your good luck clover bracelet so we can see you better, it will make it easier on us.

I put it on, and that clover-fied it.

My mom came to my door, and told me something. She looked at me funny. I looked at her face, at the clover look of her glasses on her eyes, and screamed. Great, now she thought I was psychotic.

I went downstairs to get a snack, because they said that would help. As I stood there, I accidentally looked at the flowers again out the window. Uuhhhhh... That feeling again. Uhhhh... God dammit, why did this have to be so hard?

I sat in the computer room, looked at a Georgia O'Keefe painting. The flowers freaked me out.

It didn't help that you put on that perfume today, which was a floral scent, my guides told me.

As we were sitting there, the flower plant called out to me. It said to stop being mean to it. It liked itself.

They had to disconnect the cords. We will do them all in one sweep, but you have to act light-harded and say, “Weeeee!”

“Weeeeee!!!!!” I said with enthusiasm.

They were working hard at getting all the cords. I went on facebook and mentioned something about this to Erik. He suggested it was something he had been taught in Scientology. I told him what my guides said, it was not but had similar effects.

That night, I was up late in the middle of the night. My guides told me no facebook, in case people posted picture of insects, which would be psychologically damaging to look at in the state. They didn't mention that the flowers themselves were also psychologically damaging to look at. They told me they had to block out bad dreams. If they hadn't, I would have nightmares about freaky clowns.

As I sat downstairs, I felt despair. Would this pass? What if I had to be taken to the hospital for this behavior, and I was pumped full of drugs, and that made it worse and worse? What if?

As I sat there in despair, I heard the word, “Erik,” and I felt an in pouring of positive energy, as Erik sent me good energy.

The next day, as I was using the restroom, still messed up from the cords... I heard a voice in my ear.

“What's crack-a-lackin', Sugar Plum?” It was my soul.

You!

“Woah woah woah... Back off! I was just having a good time!”

I smiled, and felt love for my soul. Together again, at last, the love of my life.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 6

I tried and tried and tried to listen to what my soul was saying. Every time I heard something, I laughed really hard. When I went out to dinner with my family, I listened in the bathroom.

You're sending psychotic energy through the tubes.

I laughed, and I got the joke. I was making crush cords to my soul, which were sending him energy. Whenever I laughed really hard, I would make a crush cord. My guides warned me about having crush cords to my soul. They said it was a bad idea, it causes pretty horrific consequences. People have done it on other planes. The world was designed so that you would not make crush cords to your soul. I got that, I laughed anyway.

I sat in the shower, and tried very hard to listen. “I love looking at you like this, the water falling all over your hair, like semen squirting all over you. I want to be together, just you and me, feeding you semen.” And then he showed me an image of him with a spoon, and hearts in his eyes, as he fed me semen.

I laughed really hard.

“I want to understand you, sweetie, I want to understand why you love caterpillars, not roses, caterpillars. I think you and I could get along splendid, not good, splendid. I think you should ease off the cough syrup, on to the robotripping design flaw place called Hydrocodone. Do it, sweetie. Undo the did, redo the don't, and do it do it do it! When you and I are together, we eat each other's minds out and have a splendid time picking fights with hobos, not fights, murderous pictionary games.”

I was happy. I had met someone I loved. Sure, it was actually me. This soul of mine, it was me. That's all. It was another aspect of myself. But sure, it would be okay. I had fallen hard. This seemed like an embarrassing problem I was having, where I was building a bunch of crush cords to my soul, and there was no one to tell me it wasn't right.

You can do something to prevent it from happening. Tell him, “You're me. I'm you.”

I said that, over and over again. “You're me. You're me. You're me.” When I did so, I got a wondrous feeling. My guides told me it was similar to the wonderful feeling you got upon death, when you are reunited with your soul in heaven.

“I think we can eat each other's marmalade again tomorrow, but right now I'm sick of it! Do it! Do go to the ballgame alone! I think it's okay to realize why the two of us get along so well!”

I laughed. I kept having to remove cords. Over and over again. When I did so, it would rid my body of a very slight, very freaky feeling I could not describe.

Well, it's okay. He's a good guy, your soul. Why don't you send him some sexual energy?

I began rolling around on the bed in lust, in lust for my own soul.

“You got me all tangled up in a web of hormones, baby.” my soul said to me, smugly.

As I sat there, my soul tried to attach a cord to me. It was a sex cord. My guides blocked it.

Whoops! My soul said.

Don't worry about that, he was trying to attach a cord to drain your energy during sex. It would feel good for him, but cause some pretty horrific side effects for you. That's why we blocked it out.

He laughed and said, “Fuckers!”

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 5

My guides told me my soul was up in heaven making jokes. Some of them were funny, some of them were not. I was worried. Was I making a fool of myself up there?

I was in the kitchen one night, believing in ghosts, when my guides told me it was time for taste bud balancing. Taste bud balancing was something we did from time to time, where they had me eat just a morsel of a few different foods of different tastes.

Okay, first, a pinch of sugar.

Okay, now sour. One of those pickled pepper rings should do it.

Now, something bitter. Tumeric is good for that. Just a tad.

Now, umami. A small piece of roast beef is good.

Salty. A touch of salt.

Now, we are going to do one more. This is a taste that people know about, but don't like to talk about. It's pungent.

In the background, I heard a voice, “I don't want to talk about it!”

I laughed at this, hard. I took a piece of parmesan cheese, as instructed, and ate it.

Who was that? I asked. The person who said, “I don't want to talk about it?”

Oh, that. That's your soul making jokes up here.

I laughed my head off at this joke. With the Adderall brain, I also had an issue where I would laugh too much at one funny thing, even things that weren't all that funny, if they tickled my fancy the right way. This did it.

What is it saying now? My soul?

What do you think? I'm telling your secrets! He said.

What is he saying now?

So you think you know possums? No way, jose! I'm a possum! Get it? O-possum?

I laughed really hard. What is he saying now?

So you think you know calculus? Derivative me a sandwich, bitch!

I laughed really hard.

What is he saying now?

Why don't you and I get together, take on the world and be together forever... I'm talking to you, girl.

He was coming on to me!

Burn Like Jesus: Four (tH chapter)

Let's see what chance is imagining. He is imagining you, sitting on the floor, with something in your lap. It's a strap on dildo. You are not going to fuck him though... You are going to fuck Adam in the ass.

Why does he want that?

He wants you to assert dominance over Adam, because he wants you to be smarter than him.

He has you on the floor, in the dining room, of his apartment. chance is dressing you in a school girl outfit. He is putting up a tent with your skirt so he can go in. He puts his foot in. Now, he looks at you in the eye. He sees something in your eye.

A twinkle? Said someone else.

No. You are looking at each other in the eyes. He knows what you are thinking. You are thinking he is better than you at something.

Robotripping? Said that other person again.

No. Withstanding heartbreak. Now, he is using scissors, cutting a hole. It's a portal to you. He wants to experience something that you have experienced. That thing is enlightenment. Now, he is putting a condom on his entire body, to protect himself, because he wants to become you, without taking on one of your traits.

What trait is that?

Your goody two-shoeness.

Now chance is imagining scissors, he is cutting the place where the fallopian tubes meet your cervix, so that you can't get pregnant. Now the scissors are cutting you up the middle, cutting you in two. You split in two. Now, there are two of you. Now, the two yous are having lesbian sex with each other.

Then I imagine the two me's holding hands, with a heart. My spirit guides tell me it is because the two me's are in love with each other, representing the fact that I should be fine just alone, and no one deserves me.

Now, the two me's become one me again. I am going down on him. Then, my butt starts to ascend upwards. I float away, off into the clouds.

You went up to heaven. Because you are that good.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I was sitting on my bed when Brandon interrupted my thoughts. He had a sexual fantasy for me.

My guides had told me that Brandon read my facebook posts, and my blog. I wasn't sure that I believed this, but I believed it on a conscious level.

Brandon has a sexual scenario he would like to share with you. He thinks you would like it. You are on the bed, sitting up. He is kneeling, putting his penis in your mouth. His hand is on the back of your head. He pulls out and ejaculates on your face. You put your hands on your face, and then rub the semen on your boobs.

That was it. He thought you would like that. That's why he wanted to tell you.

I tell him, that was very nice, thank you.

I found out I could get Brandon's sexual fantasies too. I watched.

I saw what Brandon was picturing, subconsciously. He is unhooking my bra, then unhooking a chain around my intestines. He goes down, dusts off around my vagina, because he thinks I am dirty, because of the thing with Ted. Not because he was homeless, because he was my sister's boyfriend. He is pulling something out, my IUD. It bothers him when girls have IUD's, it is annoying during sex. He is putting something in to prevent me from ever getting pregnant. Then he straps something over my mouth. He is forcefeeding me semen, and I am liking it. This is way, way too dark for me. I start freaking out. AHHH!!

Now he is taking the semen device, moving it up to your nose, dysfixiating you. Now he is moving it down, to the belly button, like an umbilical cord, so that the semen can encompass your whole body. He starts making me fatter with it, in a nourished sort of way. Now, he is sucking something out of you.

What is it?

Your dominant femininity.

Now, he is flailing you around. (all the while I can see all this in my mind).

Now, he is going down to your vagina and sucking something out of you. Something you do not want in there. Oh no, it's something you don't want to know is in there. Matthew put it there, not purposely, because of his attitude toward you. He had a very strong sex toy attitude toward you. This actually makes you good with men. We didn't know, we thought it was bad at first. We didn't know about it until now. It makes you more sophisticated around men who are interested in you.

He doesn't want other guys to be interested in you. We were wrong. This is a good thing. You both made an agreement, and he put it there with your permission. It also makes you less respectful in a sexual way towards yourself.

What is it? I ask.

It's a spiritual device that encompasses your vaginal fluids, making it easier to remove toxins from your mind.

Really?

No, but it's hard to explain. We explained it the best we could.

Okay, now let's look at Brandon's fantasy... He is imagining semen shooting magically into your mouth, a whole bunch.

I could picture this in my mind. There were two rays going from my nose down to the shoot of semen.

What's that?

You have eyes on your nose. They are looking at the semen. Now your nose is smelling the semen and loving it. What's happening now? You have an umbilical cord of semen connected to your belly button. I watch, and watch my abdomen lift into the air, and move around, then I am pregnant. A semen baby! You are pregnant now. Now the semen baby is traveling up your torso, into your heart, taking something from your heart, traveling up to your brain... What did it take from my heart? The thing that keeps its pace? Yes. Now it is traveling up into the sky with it. You are dead. That's what he wants, from a sexual perspective. To kill you.

Unwritten

The mind-flip is self-explanatory. If you have it, you know you have it and it is supernatural. Which proves God because it implies the brain was designed intelligently. However, there is that ever-lasting but over now, shadow... Not ever-lasting because it's not eternal. The need for confirmed reasoning went away at Unity fucking Hospital, fuckers. Do I care? Yes but... I care.

Sliced Cucumber: Not For Me

I don't like things that take the place of insertion. There is no insertion in my life. Needles, yuck. What about you? Are you an insert to humanity? My Spirit Guides are not insulted. Insert the insult. Assert yourself. Insulted? Don't be. I didn't insert anything into the pickle jar of stupid. Gay Marriage? Yes.

Arrogance: A World Premiere

I grew up as the lowest low. The downfall of men if they turn to it. No one wanted me.

Except...

Chance. He didn't enjoy the parade, though.

At the end of the day there wasn't a lot to say about anyone in my life. Well, Kristen is a youtube entertainer. My dad a former Comp Guru. My mother a whiny housewife who just wants appreciation and everyone knows Rachel would not have gone to Innercept if Bev hadn't thrown out the Ritalin.

In the end, Rachel stands high, dry, and proud. Well, I did it! I really did, didn't I? I saved the world!

How?

No.... I can't tell you how many times I thought the world was about to end. Listening to Wonder Boy as I came home from the walk, satisfied in the premier effort of the unstoppable stealer of hearts in her new memoir series, which might take awhile to endure the appreciation of God before he steals it back to heaven, with Rachel.

Did anyone die? Yeah, Jason and Emily. Those were "bad trees." Huh? Are Caleb and Hiram bad seeds than?

No one said that, dildo for brains. They didn't get proper health nourishment as a child.

And so on... The ranter rants...

I'm the only real person in my life. And I'm second only to Jesus, the last Conscious Mission star.

"Always remember Jesus was first." -Rachel

Stan Turnpike: The Last Straw

Why?

Actually, Stan you are kind of wimpy. I could mope but you don't believe me and let me feel weird. I hate this blog.

Stan went on to become a bus driver.

DON'T GIVE AWAY BOOK SECRETS!!

Encore!

I don't care about getting off at all thank you very much.

[Abrupt ending]

...

Fire! J/K! Fire! J/K! Fire! J/K!

Sick Pleasure: A Financial Ruin

What is sick pleasure?

It means being happy when someone else is miserable. If I am happy, and I think about unhappiness at the same time... That's called SICK pleasure. That's SICK.

If you are happy, and someone else is not happy... How DARE you?! How. Dare. YOU. Fud. Don't go there.

Also, sometimes there are situations that are very weird that come up that immensely make me laugh. If I laugh, but I don't. I don't laugh. I just stare and fixate.

Note: the last paragraph was true sick pleasure

I am early virtuous and dark. However, dark souls like being dark souls.

They don't like liking things they actually don't like, however sometimes they like sex better when they are dark souls. So maybe I should stop worrying altogether!

I hate parts of my life like the r-word. No I don't think rape is funny. I think it is terrible. My life is a cartoon show.

You Seem Anxious and Talkative Today

Well, my day started with me waking up thinking about Hiram and Caleb and what the fuck I was thinking when I posted the status about them in 2020 that I don't want to remind people of. Then what? I got high. On coffee. Then how did you cope? Umm... Well I posted a status online apologizing. It was woo. What other problems has the woo caused you? Horrible ones and people are sending me bad energy. Because of the noise of the keyboard. Linguistics fucked. Nicotine. Resume typing. I am too embarrassed but I would because I want to grow in power traits. Anyone in my position, given the circumstances.

Would continue living because you grow in rare power traits toward the end of the mission that are very respected. And glorious. Can I even write coherently? No.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Time for some energy work! What would you like to do today?

I was thinking. We could do some energy work on Chance. To make him a little bit darker in his fantasies about me.

That's a good idea, if you want disaster! Said my guides.

But I do!

Well then, we'll do the work. We'll get started, you wait right here and breathe deeply.

AND THEN...

Now, let's look at some of the fantasies he's having. Since your minds are connected, you can see what he's imagining. Think Chance, and breathe oxygen for it helps the channeling process. I paid attention to my mind's eye. Before long, it started coming through. I began seeing in my mind what Chance’s subconscious sexual thoughts are. He is imagining me sucking his dick. Then, a pool of water appears next to him. He puts his hands in it, pats them together, rubs it on his dick, puts some more water on his hand, then rubs it on his dick again. Then he stands up. He fucks me while we are both standing up, in an impossible position where he sticks it in me while we are both just standing there normally. After awhile, he takes it out, and says to me, “spit.” Why did he say spit? He is telling you to spit out your nicotine gum. On the spiritual plane, he sees that it is always in your mouth. What is he imagining now? He is imagining you tied to a bed, your arms above your head, your legs spread way open and tied down. He is thinking about entering you. He is looking at you with an expression of, “I have you.” You are looking at him, wanting him to please you. He is entering. I imagined this in my mind. In my mind, I see it. Then, he pulls out. His torso lifts and goes forward, so he is sitting on my chest, with his genitals facing me, but not in my mouth, him lying down. Then he lifts up again, and does a somersault, and he is going down on me. The chains melt away, and I melt down with pleasure. Then he stands up. What's he doing now? He is talking to you. He is talking, not about sex, but about a relationship. He is telling you that he not wants, needs a relationship with you. In order for the sex to continue? No. Because he likes you too much. Now let's see what Chance is imagining! He is imagining another guy fucking your digestive track. You are hating it. That's what they want. Now, he's taking it out. Oh, now we are going homosexual! He is imagining another guy sucking his dick, and doing it better than girls would. Not because he is interested in other guys sexually, but because he wants to think guys would do a better job than girls would. Why's that? Because they want to think guys are better at love, not sex, love, than girls are. From a sexual perspective, guys would rather love another guy. Because it is demeaning to women, and they would like to think, from a sexual perspective, that men are superior in every way.

Burn Like Jesus: The Beginning

Chapter 1

On the surface, I was doing little more than “recovering” in my parent's eyes. Underneath, I was doing all sorts of fun and interesting stuff. It was hard to imagine what my life had been before my spirit guides entered the picture, what with my rampant fear of homelessness. Now, I had a promising career as a medium and energy worker. I looked around the house. Everywhere I went, I was looking at fun in the sun. I watched television, and my guides always provided commentary on whatever I was watching. I couldn't imagine watching television without commentary. I knew I would make it out of this rat hole, unscathed, with a lot going for me. I would use the guardianship trial as leverage, to make it into the public eye.

When I woke up every morning, I immediately thought of my spirit guides. Whenever I had an interesting dream, or any dream for that matter, I would ask my spirit guides what it meant. One night, I had a dream that I had ate a lot of dirty cat litter. I didn't remember eating it, only that I had done it. Now, it was up to me to clean up the mess I was left with as a result.

What does that dream mean? I asked my guides. They told me it was one of their clients on another plane's issue. We were so close, our minds were so intricately linked, I got the dreams that weren't meant for me. I believed them, always.

This happened, night after night. I got a dream that was meant for someone on another plane. When it happened, I got annoyed. Why can't I have my own dreams?

I woke up one morning, and I got a picture of Martin Luther King Jr. in my head. My guides said he was here, and willing to help me out with the mission. He had been on a mission too, they told me. A lot of people through out history had been on missions specifically designed to make some sort of change in the world. When one mission failed, which they never did, it meant disaster for the plane they were on. One time, a good important mission failed, and it led to something like famine. An energy crisis of some sort.

Well, well, well. Said my guides. Are you ready? We have some energy work to do!

I am ready as I'll ever be, princesses!

Time to begin! We love you, Salioness. Withhold information from the parental units, for this is ground for a lifetime of hospitalizations!

Whoop di do. Withholding information from the parents. It could fill books, how much they didn't know.

Outstanding Achievement Award of Intensive Transition

At Intensive Transition I was trained to develop a ridiculous nicotine gum habit. Dopamine, three a day, and the effect that doesn't last the entire thing but chew the whole thing. I got sick of it. But oh, the car rides... 3. Three evenly spaced out pieces.

What's this?

I like to look around for things in my mind and find new things and think about them. That's something I enjoy in life. An old issue from over a year ago, and there may have been thought security breaches by Jason at the time but this hasn't actually... Been thought of as significant although I point at Jason here, huh, did that effect anything? Probably not though. Anyway... There was this thing where Kristen was talking about... Don't make assumptions about thought format, it wasn't Kristen's voice talking. Umm... In a weird way about a car outside by a psychiatrist office? Just a little psychiatrist office, or it could be a dentist or a eye doctor as well, but I say psychiatrist, could be any of those. I also think of fourth grade here, maybe a dentist appointment but that's probably random garble de gook reference that didn't need to be referenced. I don't know. And... something about looking through a window, or something clear, or the old house with my parents, the sky light, all sorts of things get thrown in but it isn't as chaotic as you are thinking. I'm just looking at this in my mind because it is weird, and sometimes, like hey, remember the "ascension key?" What is this... Oh that's SOMETHING, leave it alone (guides say). You wouldn't remember the ascension key that's something in Burn Like Jesus that isn't that important, just something. Anyway, what's the point? To the point more, it's Kristen talking about a mythical car sitting in a parking lot by a tree. A very small parking lot. IN THE SAME.... (this is the part that's important HERE), way she might talk about the light at the end of the tunnel that you walk through when you die. That. Also, everyone said please talk down Kristen's ego. Get over the fact you have a pretty face Kristen. It isn't pretty the way you make it up either, with makeup. Everyone told me, ego detriment Kristen. Also, you and Jason aren't as different reputation-wise on the other side, no. Not right now though... No not true, but... You are smarter than people think NOW, you're also known for being a fucking bitch Jason says, it's something, then he says... "GOD I didn't want to tell her that." So, to sum it up... "Kristen, you're not that pretty and you're not that smart. I'm glad we had this talk."

Gratitude

I think a lot on gratitude. What am I grateful for the most? Belief in God. Things like hyped up emotional energy at the same time. I get down a lot, without people to talk to in person. Seems like a helpful, dopamine-filled exercise, but I don't get it a whole lot with anyone special. Or with friends. I enjoy my hyped up emotional energy and lack of sickness the most. No sickness, ever. A little runny nose sometimes, could be allergies too. Nothing annoying. Yeah, but the passing cars might think... Nah, not sick. I remember the time I got sick in 2016 in the summer. That was the last time I was sick, before that it was in 2008. I remembered because I forgot, wow weird summer, but that was dreadful, hot, sick, yucky feeling. Nothing is worse than body problems and sickness. All these things make me think of death but do be careful, sick people don't want to be reminded of death. Don't let me get sick, please. I won't. The emotional energy! The emotional hyped up energy of your life is so high! You know, like in spirit sex, on the pain scale, it isn't THAT low compared to the pain scale of Earth to do a "Forbidden Sex Act," However, it's about the enjoyment level drop! If it goes down all of a sudden, it's worse. It's kind of like calculus or math, see. That's why I am grateful and others are like hey Rachel we thought you were having fun but Jason just died and stuff and I don't like that he tortured me but there was so much else going on at the same time. If I do something weird in my own mind like think of a duck, will you get mad? Sometimes thinking of strange things makes me feel happy and listening to different music makes me happy that sounds different. And they get mad anyway, but maybe they aren't. What did I do? But everyone looks to me anyway. Despite all the weirdness. Rachel, you got it all! You got a montage of beautiful original art, a coffee pot, a nice neat room that is fun, Jesus in the corner, spirit guides, and makeup, perfume, a nice figure and face (I think?), gym memberships, a nice place to live, food, a restroom, free hygiene products, some money, and fame that doesn't slap you in the face yet. That's why I'm happy. Also, I think I am a pretty good person inside too and that's what makes me happiest the most. Sometimes I feel empty though. And I have music to fill the void. And I try, too. To make myself better. But I always forget that Jesus is coming. How? Huh? How weird!

Zuhl Family Points of Interest, "Culture"

A more poignant point of interest to the Zuhl Family than Eminem at all might come down to the day Rachel woke up in a stupor from a ridiculously stressful dream. She came down, sat at the dinner table and said, "I had a dream that my iPhone disappeared. There was a message on the computer that said, if this trick right here doesn't work to get your iPhone back, you must be in an alternate universe!" I tried it and it didn't work. The thing about this situation, to me it wasn't a dream, I stated it out loud as if this situation actually really happened to me. Kristen said, "Huh?" And I responded like, "What the fuck Kristen? I just told you what fucking happened. My iPhone disappeared and my computer will not give it back to me." Kristen said "Huh?" And Ian responded with a shush. I understood later, I was still not awake when I came down and explained that situation at the dinner table. I was still in a sleep-like stupor, that dream was so stress filled to me you had no idea. "The dream meant I was in an alternate universe!" Yeah, well, then the iPhone disappeared in August 2022, which lead to the Black Power Brigade and immediately after I achieved Warp Speed. The issues, the problems, flew at me so fast right there and I was astounded at how well I handled every single one of them. With incredible grace and precision. And you know, I didn't think the "Black Power Brigade" was THAT funny of a joke, okay. Seriously, no I did not. There is something serious about that joke I understood, but damn, I was so impressed at how I had already "William Vandergaw Tricked" that guy and damn the spiritual possession I suspected over the infamous "William Vandergaw Incident" actually came back, and was thrown in my face as something very positive. A personal best. Man, I could not get over how impressed with myself I was. And yes, it made sense, my iPhone disappeared right there, yes an alternative universe, and yes I reached warp speed. A lot of stuff happened right after. Don't get overwhelmed thinking Jason or any friend I have at all right now is so fucking important to me, I was more impressed that the mission was real. Well, the Jason situation went somewhere. Good. That could potentially, and I would have to ask, might be more important to anyone I know than anything Eminem has ever said or done. First it was Dr. Dre in my bed, assuring me Eminem does not understand because he was white. And then Debbie Mathers. Yeah, I don't hate your mother either, Eminem. Some people in my life might be more concerned that I will stop eating altogether, than that I will get fat. I point to that issue. "Yep. Wow, so true." And for the record, Eminem, I have way more social influence in the world than you have. Haha, suck yourself and realize you don't know me this is Eastern Culture. That is all.

Alarm C Issue of the Hour Which Inadvertently Demands Alarm C

I went through Innercept, holding close to the possibility that my memoir would make it big. It ended with a suicide attempt at first that would normally make it unpublishable. I had to deal with that situation and hold on to the God darsh fucking memoir the entire time I was at Innercept to avoid a sort of depression that crushed my soul to death. I held on, despite everything, the memoir would make it because that story was just so fucking weird and I thought that that story was just so fucking weird and it was also true. I eventually recovered, got back home, redeemed the content of Party Like Jesus by making it end differently. I let people read it, got no real feedback whatsoever. "Only interesting to people who know you." "Well-written." Means topic that is boring, keep trudging, Joey Jazz herself explained to me we just don't believe such a weird story. When the karmic debt with Matthew indicates go ahead Rachel, I publish the memoir. I receive no money for the memoir. None. "Well we think you gamble," a woman at Plaid Pantry indicates somehow. I would never gamble ever and that is a fact of mine that remains true no matter what. I have absolutely no interest in gambling and have never tried it even once. And then... Well some douchebag celebrated your favorite holiday November 19th this year. Are you happy Rachel? Are you happy Rachel? Shut up that's not my problem is all I have to say. Shut up. And I know what I am doing here.

The Spirit Guides Proudly Led the Way Into a Room of Forfeit

I don't feel good. I might live. Not sure. Anyway, so that's what happened, they led the way into a dark room of ridiculousness. And everyone fucked with Rachel in that room. Rachel played along. What happens next? Boredom everywhere, except for the promise of some hope leading into a potential cesspool. Should I try to live to see if the cesspool is okay? Maybe. We shall see.

Sunday Therapy Notice

Today's therapy assignment is to address Rachel's mistreatment over her Facebook page. "You lose friends for being funny." As this issue wore on, actually, I don't even care anymore about "likes." No matter what I do, I get unfriended. Actually, old issue. "Get over it Rachel! Old issue!" No, actually, I don't know if anyone is actually saying this but this might actually be some sort of therapy issue to resolve here. Actually, no not everyone's mean. Something weird. I started posting in 2013 on Facebook, there goes my friends list right there. "You lose friends for being funny." This has caused me emotional problems. Therapy? Maybe. Where to start? Posting here.

Atheism: The Biggest Evil

Atheists and there big ego construct about being smart. Well, simple as... We don't believe in fairy tales. Remember Santa Claus? We learned our lesson! HAHHAHHAHHAHHAHA!!!! Well, humans developed Santa Claus though... Humans, well if you can't trust conventional wisdom, what can you trust then? EGO!!! EGO!! MUST FEED EGO!!! CRISIS!!! LIVER FAILURE!!! LIVER FAILURE!!!... The end?

Stamina, Stamina, STAMINA

So, my existential crisis of the moment... Don't get this confused with an "existential crisis" though. Powering through life with Delusions of Reference takes Stamina. So does messaging Jason and not getting a response, yes. What is your problem? What is your problem? Well, it helped me through the moment. Did I say anything wrong though? THAT'S NOT IT. THAT'S NOT IT. It was this fucking Fish Out of Water Story, etc. The messages themselves were not the problem. Well... Back to stamina. I have to use stamina to sort through, well what about this? What about this? No gloat. Then... "Well, I wish I were still alive so I could AT LEAST have the pleasure of reading a message from you Rachel, now that I'm dead." Then... "Well, use Rachel's motto, what ever keeps me going through the minute..." "Well now I'm mad there is clear evidence she was right about Fish Out of Water Psychology. I am just so fucking embarrassed I can't live THAT mistake down." To... "Force her to kill herself! That will keep me going, like Rachel's life motto!" To... Rachel says, "I was right about Fish Out of Water Psychology, you are punishing me. There is a difference between a drink and forced suicide, Jason." And every second I sit here, I know I can't die and that takes stamina.

Handing Out Business Cards Around the Neighborhood Rumination Topic

I do not have business cards. True. Never have. I don't interact with kids except smiles. And... But no litter. Yeah? No litter. If there were business cards, you would see them all over the neighborhood. Never, but huh. But if... One time she did hand out a business card, or someth'. Yeah... No, no one thinks you hand out business cards to kids. Hmmm... This is just a thought process I am thinking with my region 9. Umm... Moving on. No more.

Bible-Thumper's Go To Book Is the Bible Only

Classic situation on the internet, as I receive word. A Christian quotes scripture. "And why? What reason do you have that I should trust your sacred holy book? And please, don't quote scripture here for an answer." And the Christian says... "Well, I'm going to anyway..." Don't mind if I do... Going to anyway... I have the upper hand because it's scripture and so I think... Just a thought. Ba doom cha! Remember, huh... Suicide for Hire again?

Dumb-Ass Fuckery DEFINED!(one or dumb bitch giggle)

You know, you can make all the jokes you want about my brain. Superior, no. Designed specifically for a situation that includes BOTH dramatic Facebook Posts and endurance of ridiculous trauma. So... Do I envy anyone else in the world? Absolutely not. I am on a mission here, God-ordained, got it okay. You think? What else... The Four Agreements which Innercept likes to think is powerful, suggests and demands, do not make assumptions. You think? You think. Wisewords of Hugh, "Why are you paying attention to the Christian Elite?" They do what they do, you and your Jesus Complex, damn. No one cares okay, except to say that Jesus... Is... Coming... Here. The hour? No one knows. The time? No one knows. And the accuracy of every single statement in the Bible... Actually, to be true, I think God said THAT RIGHT THERE for a reason. Romans 1:24-32. That's what God did say, actually with that particular statement... Word of God. But was he being serious? Yes but... Stick together as humans and stick around, let's wait for Jesus Christ to make His remarkable statement. I believe in this situation with all my heart.

The Old Adage

The old adage I heard in regards to a nicotine pending emergency, ye ole rubber band method. Snap a rubber band to hit yourself. Anyway. I don't think you're stupid for mentioning it, but right now that solution sounds like some advice I heard at the hospital awhile ago that I always chuckle at. A random staff member said, "I advice you take both Clozaril (suppresses all forms of dopamine at the same time!) AND a medication to suppress nightmares." Precisely. I think that is a funny joke. But however, you know, if you mess with brain processing it will also umm, technically possibly completely eliminate your conscience.

Ruminations on Human Kindness

The thought that spurred this article was the treatment of the mentally ill. If someone feels mistreated by society, they get pissed off and take it out on society. Basic fact. I try my hardest not to return the disrespect to others that I have been given by life. I consider myself a kind person and... Anyway, what else? Bragging about being nice, huh? Well, currently I have so much pent up rage from my situation. It is starting to come to the point where I mess up frequently trying to hide it. "DON'T YOU REMEMBER ME TELLING YOU ALL THE TIME AT THE BEGINNING OF MY STAY AT INNERCEPT THAT IT WAS A BAD IDEA?! YOU DON'T?!" "Excuse me, sorry for yelling." I am always working on trying to improve myself. That's true. Do I feel compassion for others that is true? At the risk of sounding like a sociopath, which is a fear of mine in this situation that unknown strangers will perceive it that way... Actually, I'm concerned with the situation where there's this sense of always winning the better person contest in every situation. Wow, what a crutch! What if I didn't have THAT at least?! Maybe any comparison shouldn't ever come up at all between people. Complete apples and oranges, comparing people with each other. I remember what my guides said about the topic I don't like which is empathizing with humiliating situations when you were the victim of their hatred or blatant disrespect. "If you wanted to grow even more, which you do, you would understand something it takes wisdom to understand. In a subtle way, that implies you expected them to humiliate themselves because you don't have enough respect for them. You are supposed to feel let down. Now, what does the let down emotion (or whatever, thought process etc, I don't want to feel pain) actually look like? You figure that out." As an Early Virtuous Soul, I understand, as Jason pointed out, "That's the funny thing about them. They just hate pain. They hate the concept of pain and want to try to get rid of it." Most notably when it comes to others. In social situations, they would rather feel pain themselves then someone else, if possible. "Get rid of pain altogether. What a lovable quirk!" That's a quirk that dark souls like (to abuse, or Spirit Sex stuff). I see room for improvement in myself on the topic of treating others with TRUE respect. I already treat others with respect. But is the respect true enough? That's the question. I think I do but I could challenge myself to be more humble. That's what I'm thinking about. Simultaneously, I get treated with such disrespect on a regular basis that I wonder if these two things clash. However, if you want to know what I am working on the hardest, it is patience with the mindflip. There are things that are easy for other people's brains that are hard for mine. It seems unfair until you remember that getting frustrated or asking for help in a situation like this rubs people the wrong way. Something that probably happens plenty, I stumble in a situation that seems easy for other people and other people might think that was an embarrassing situation for me. Well, the mistake was forgivable because I understood it, but that might have looked weird to the other person and I keep thinking about that. There have been a grave number of situations with the mindflip where I have been misunderstood for that reason. I can't imagine how many soul traits you might grow in from working all the time trying to operate an "alien brain." For the time being, I have to push myself all the time, and one of those ways is to appear normal and not make ridiculous looking mistakes that others wouldn't make. All the times I could have possibly weirded someone out with something that was an issue due to the mindflip, makes my head spin and mind boggle. The blood pressure example is what spurred this thought process today, even though I think about it a lot. One time quite awhile ago, I think 2021 at Pearl House, I was being transported to the hospital and they took my blood pressure. It was 150 over something. I pointed out that was very elevated to me (weird even for the stress of the situation, but I don't know about that). The guy in the ambulance hesitated or responded with some social/emotional cue I don't remember now. I said quietly to myself, "blood pressure is a competitive thing." THAT RIGHT THERE. THAT COULD BE SOMETHING THEY HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH ME ABOUT, THAT COMMENT. Well, I made no assumptions about that guy it was a personal reminder that others have egos. Which is the actual point of annoyance, sometimes I forget that I have to take into account things about life that might be ego points. I thought nothing of this comment here, until I was being discharged from the ER the other day and it included a warning about high blood pressure (over 120). Okay... I get my blood pressure checked on a very regular basis and normal for me is low. You know, I almost wondered if they just said that in the report to mock me about that one time in the Ambulance. Why is 120 over whatever a problem given the very high stress level of the recent ER incident? No idea. No idea. They could have put that in the report just to mock me. That wasn't the worst part of the report though, it was there medication recommedations which I know were simply recommendations. Moving on. Does the Bible explicitly forbid making claims about your own character? No, I don't think it does. That's a situation I look back and think about. Relaying information, my spirit guides said I was a virtuous soul. So however people react... Well, what are they going to do? Sit around and mock/grumble in a giggle/hate fest. And if they actually grumble or take it out on me personally... I hypothetically grow even more in that trait. I don't regret saying that, though I think back and think huh most of the time you shouldn't point it out but I did... Indeed. However, the thing I worry most about is... The thing I worry most about is... I have to take a stand on a cause I think is stupid because well God clearly said so. And I can't prove that God said so. Right now.... Hallellujah praise Jesus! "Biding your time Jesus... Biding your time... The world is waiting."

Police, Providence ER, Are You Happy?

I'm trying to process what happened the other day. What I wanted to know is, after all has been said and done, are you happy? Did that situation make you happy? At the time, and afterwards? Are you satisfied? Was it worth it? I didn't know I was that hated by society. I am capable of dealing with the knowledge that yes Rachel, you are hated more universally than you assumed. Maybe I should not have called the police. Also, I tried calling other "support" people first. They did not pick up the phone. If they had picked up the phone, I might not have called the police. Too much stuff to say on this topic. My concern was if it is automatically assumed that I am lying about a health concern I express regarding medication, I don't want to deal with this place anymore. There's also the Zyprexa psychosis which might not be taken seriously because Rachel with your diagnosis that wouldn't happen. Zyprexa is not supposed to make you psychotic so we will not listen to that concern. That could be it, but that's not as important as... Yes, Trazodone causes me heart problems. You look up Trazodon online, it states very clearly that it can cause heart problems that require medical attention. On two separate occasions, I took Trazodone and had to endure a situation where my heart was scaring me and I was worried about it. So the police did come, yes. They already had a hold. And they had a nasty attitude about it. I begged and pleaded to them using emotion, please don't send me to the ER. So many reasons not too. But they were determined, and emotional pleases don't work. Then when I get there, apparently it's standard procedure to put me in restraints immediately. Did I do anything at all the indicated violence? No, they restrained me there, taunted me about how I had to lie down on the hospital bed in restraints. Why can't I sit up a little bit? BECAUSE I TOLD YOU TO. Lie down or they... Shove you back down on the bed repeatedly. Like that right there, I have no idea why it is important to them that I lie down on the bed instead of sitting upright slightly in restraints. They physically shove me down. On the way to the hospital, they taunt me about how I will also have to pay for this ambulance ride. I didn't say I was going to commit suicide. I said there is a 100% chance that I would regret committing suicide. Forget suicide entirely though, I do not want to carry out with a plan and I do not have a plan. See that right there... That traumatic experience is what you get for trying to advocate for yourself. What was the cause you were advocating for? Is it emotionally important to others in a really weird way like Bebe's boobs... NO RACHEL YOU DID NOT HAVE HEART PROBLEMS WITH TRAZODONE. That is important to all the people in your life, we will not accept that you had heart problems on Trazodone. And get this through your mind, the police are hateful and not your friends. And you have to be on medication that is detrimental or else we won't give you the time of day, no one will. What's my take? This is a "George Floyd" issue to me, once I get done drinking and feeling miserable over the topic. So police force and ER hospital staff, you got what you wanted. I asked for help, and you punished me for it. So I guess you are happy now. Are you?

The Jason/Rachel Relationship: The Worst Part of Everything

"So you had to take my death on faith. Hmm." Jason says. After all is said and done, and the friendship is done as God intended it to be... There's a part that bothers both of us. That said, it bothers him more now, but what a "stinker" of an issue. There was an occurrence all the way back in fall of 2019, that made Jason lose respect for me an maybe even stop liking me. On Kristen's good ole' Youtube channel, which I advertised on my Facebook page despite her warnings (my fault, right?), Kristen documented an incident in which the police were called to our house regarding me. Well, my dad thought I had drugged him. That's one thing that happened, and the police left immediately following the incident and my guides seem to think they thought I was innocent on this, which I was. I didn't drug my dad, my spirit guides put something in his system (means it's safe when guides do it). Would I have done that myself? Absolutely not. "I thought you gave your dad Geodon." "No. I would not have thought giving him anything at all was safe. And I don't know why you think I would have Geodon just sitting... Well, I guess you NEVER KNOW... You should know but you never know... I didn't, I didn't give him anything. This was an obnoxious occurrence to me to and it would definitely go against my moral values to drug someone. Jason sort of hated me after he watched this video that my lovely sister made, and well... There is some reason that you might take that at video at face value, not knowing that my guides do WEIRD THINGS... Weird things... Weird things... You know, I almost regretted telling Jason so many times, some of the things my spirit guides do are just so fucking weirdly obnoxious you have no idea. Because at the same time, there's also the factor of, "they're my friends... I am not even going to try to get rid of them... For the love of Elvis, stop going on about how I need to get rid of my guides!" Yeah, every once in awhile there's something that leaves me scratching my head that they do and annoyed as fuck. Well, you didn't think of that, did you Jason? Drugging someone else. "I wouldn't have thought they would have had that kind of power." Yes, they did. "The real issue that people wonder though, is why this occurrence went by quietly without an email to you. He never said anything at all to you about it." Yeah, I had no idea that was a big deal. Actually, I do think it would be a big deal had it been what actually happened... I didn't know he was watching my sister's Youtube channel, and he's psychic, and whatever I don't want to believe something that terrible. Was there anything I could have said to make him understand I was innocent? No, actually, and that's the thing. However... Vague speculation indicates it would have been easier to dismiss had it been addressed at the time, as opposed to never, or actually more specifically after his death. This has been bugging me, Jason more though, and he keeps bringing it up, and I'm like "Why are you here psychopath?" That's a situation with some edge to it, but I distract myself when it comes up by thinking about the funny part. Jason changed his "psychological model" of me when he saw that video. Jason admits, he is so fucking embarrassed about the impression he made every single second afterwards to me. The unfriending situation is ridiculously or superfluously stupid to him, now that he understands it fully. There was an assumption made about me that wasn't true, which was that taking advantage of a weakness in other people was something I consider "cool" or "edgy." "It was gag-worthy," Jason says. He's talking about thinking about me picture reading, thinking about the two of them laughing their heads off and at what? Jason agrees with me now, to say the least. The point of the drugging (they've put "drugs" in my system before, wish they would on command but they don't, no matter what I say) was to drive an edge into our relationship which had some staying power and just wouldn't quit, despite him being bad for me. I was hoping there aren't other people, or lots of people in the world, who have seen my sister's Youtube video and thought something bad about me because of that incident. My sins... Are between me and God, I guess. Not all that many, and God knew I would sin right there, but who's bragging? Anyway... (sorry).

Charlene Sabin: The Debacle

" " "Well, I didn't know that you REALLY didn't want the guardianship. I also didn't know that that situation in your life, the securing of the guardianship by your parents, would become the driving force of anger and rage that powers your entire existence practically . I didn't want to encourage the anger and loathing, aimed at your parents and at mental health professionals and most exclusively or predominantly psychiatrists. I didn't know you wouldn't react to a guardianship with anger if that was the case." " " WHAT?!?!? Do you lack empathy?! Open floor for discussion, (no one's perfect).

Extroversion: An Opinion

Friends accumulate. Need more. I can't deal without social interaction. Addiction to people in my face and all around me. You are an extrovert. You look cool. But... Hey, you know him? I do too. His name is J.C. Extroverts! Opinion! And clash! Yeah, so?

Jason Troy Farnworth Discusses "Rage Tolerance"

As the night settles, one thing after another, we come back to the abode and sit down with Jason Farnworth for a discussion. There was something he wanted to talk about about the "Facebook Hugh Issue." I say, it was all covered in Party Like Jesus though. All of that came up! I didn't know any of that was important and I understand the situation that the problem is no Rachel is subhuman. Okay Jason? I got the issue down pat! "No, no, no... This, this, this, this, this, and this from Innercept. I didn't understand a couple of these issues right here, okay. Umm." But, you know you know we know and all people know, people including and possibly but not always limited to Jason Troy Farnworth, understand that he is in charge always of getting his way and being on top and understanding everything and getting some sort of special important treatment and luxuries in life, duh. Says Rachel, scratching her head not understanding why he didn't know already it was all spelled out but it was Rachel and that was the reason he treated her that way. "Umm... No, this second suicide attempt, (to shorten the dialogue and stuff), what was the biochemically strange dark spot that came up right there and thing that would have prevented a suicide attempt. Also, a certain spirit saved your life there and intervened and got you to tell your dad and I didn't know that either, and that was important." "Why?" "Dunno, we'll discuss later. That's not it. I didn't want any part of the Hugh emotional internet mess. The underlying issue was that he said nothing ever, and that led to belief he, and later everyone, but mostly that person at the time and then me, didn't exist at all. And that was the underlying Facebook issue. Lack of personal existence of yourself." Hmmm. Why is that interesting? "Well, I thought that was sick to make a sick joke of that situation." Ha ha! We all thought so! YOU LOVE SICK! I know it! And you know it too! Go away! I already internalized subhumanness. "There's more though, okay." "No, you wanted to make fun of my weird issues no one understands in a way that was cruel and that was your point. Yes?" "Uh.." "Ha, I know, now back to reading the paper and talking to a mannequin! I will fight you off again next time you try to mutilate my body and live with mutilated body parts until they heal! And then some!"

Mental Health Problems Treated With Bogus Cures

We talk and laugh tonight, thinking about what is Rachel's biggest stress factor of the hour? The evil mental health system. Rachel says, "But the others... I don't have the diagnosed condition, but if you did..." Rachel is confused. Her guides laugh. "No. How often do you think it happens that people have aggression that is excacerbated by medication that reduces happy neurotransmitters?" Rachel stares. "More often than you can possibly imagine. It is more common than you would expect, even in your most intense nightmares." "That's why I'm on a God-ordained mission to fix the problem!" "Yes, of course Rachel." And then... But lock up the knives. Threat? No... If your parents lock up the knives the second you are diagnosed, it leads to internalization of the idea that you are considered a serious threat to society. And they told your mom to. And she didn't. "Wow what a great mother!" "Do you think so?" "No, I just think some people are stupider."

Jason: What Happened Next?

Jason is still in the midst of the "hose off" process. At first, he comes in and I shoo him away for some reason. He comes back, he has agreed to do a bunch of painful exercises on the Other Side, including something boring including staring at a spot on the floor while trying not to think for an extended period of time, to recreate boredom like at Innercept. The other one is staring through a mist as hard as he can at a "duck." Because of the "How Does a Duck Know?" Crash Test Dummies song and the fact that he was plotting and "stuff" during my experience at Unity Hospital listening to that song. This will keep any horrific long-term repercussions from happening to him, due to the fact he went further than planned by God, in harassing Rachel in ways that were sad to both of them. How is his mood? He feels like puking. He comes in, jokes around with Rachel while she's in the shower. He lost most of his friends due to this experience, and this situation has attracted "new friends." Jason is making new friends, and accepting fate, as Rachel smiles and winks.

"Rachel Didn't Tell Jason She Was Spiritually Possessed"

I had a mental block and didn't want to think about it. So he never knew the truth.

We Point Fingers At

No therapy at Providence whatsoever. Look, I tried lady. That is what I want to talk about now. The fucking Eminem song.

We Attribute the Disconnect

Rachel's ridiculous states early 2020, a hospital debacle in 2021 where someone called the hospital unnecessarily, and she was starved of friends for those five months besides random funny encounters. Willing to live on the way in to Providence, suicidal on the way out. Lost perspective with a tying of the knot GIF and a... "I don't know, Rachel.." "ahhh!" (imprint) Put back the knot tying image. (obligation) Rachel was lost in the fantasy world her guides created. No one understood, she needed a companion was all. And had no desire to hurt Emily. Famous last words... "I miss Rachel. I miss Rachel. AHHH!! Shut up Rachel!"

Jason Troy Farnworth In Remembrance

Smart, strong-willed, and brave. Understood spiritual issues. Knew not to ask Rachel questions or believe in Jesus. Self-deprecating about youth. Self-deprecating about youth. Self-deprecating about his Mormon youth. God, it was terrible. Wanted to be a missionary. Rachel wanted out of the sexual wooing energy situation. -Remembered for his woo

Snow: Nature's Mess

Fuck I hate snow. When it snows, which isn't now, so? Why? But then... Cold white flakes, but the flakes aren't interesting ever. And then... Cold and yucky. Cold and yucky. Flurries that make you roll your eyes. And then... Yuck, can't leave the fucking house and go anywhere at all. YAY! WHY?! WHAT THE HELL? I want to leave the place, okay. And then people are all like... Woooh, white ground. Which I got sick of. No, I just got sick of the ground being covered with white cold yuck, outside, and everywhere. Prickly prickly. And done. No snow ever again. The grinch. Ham on Christmas. No beef. What? Ham. AHHHH!!!! I am supposed to eat kosher. No, just not pork, but fuck if that's important? Okay? What, Jews. You have some weird rule about milk and babies. OKAY... Okay... Nitwits. Just sayin' "And then some."

Bartenders and Bartending Situations with Salioness

Alcohol, at times, is life or death. Yes, that's what I said. I do not have a clear understanding about when or where. At a bar... it could escalate to death if they take too long serving. Never any issues. One time there almost was one at this bar downtown though, I went in, sat at a table. Hurry! Hurry! Except, you know, hey, they might decide not to serve you if you seem so insistant, never happened, just something I would think and worry about. However, that time it saved the day that I quickly went over to the bar instead of screaming my lungs out. Hurry! Also, denying me drinks for whatever reason has this ability to cause some sort of escalating psychological problem. Besides lack of ID, that's a valid reason, okay. If you look at me and there is some reason you decide to cut me off... that has the potential to cause a worsening issue. Of course, it is excused, I am not whining here, just saying. It hasn't happened all that many times at all that I have been denied drinks, actually. It has happened, and I get more worried about this situation of denied drinks every time. Quitting quitting quitting but sometimes can't really do it for special brain and sanity reasons, okay. That is all.

Shinedown: My Apologies

After consideration of the Shinedown issue, I forgave them. It would be very easy to look at this situation regarding my online presence... Rape jokes? Ridiculous attitude about memoir series... We don't believe this situation and we are pointing it out, for the record. And... What if this person is doing something that might actually cause a societal issue with her memoir series? We don't know, just pointing it out, and God. God prevents a problem here. There is no chance in hell I will learn of the album, before I am ready. This issue is a point of interest to me right now, thinking about it from a historical perspective. And that's the word!

What The Hell Is Your Fucking Problem, Kristen Zuhl?!

So I heard from Chris Sepelak that Kristen was talking to him, telling him "oh you don't know what Rachel's like when she's in [altered states], you don't know how crazy she is, you don't know how crazy she is..." WHAT. THE. FUCK. KRISTEN?!?!?!? First of all, what's the worst that has happened that I wanted to actually point out that people don't know already? Wouldn't want me to sage and open the windows constantly, that once in a lifetime exercise in 2014 really riled the fuck up with my family. That's it. That's all. What else has happened? Nothing, really. You know Kristen, looking at your Youtube Channel, I tell myself and try to believe it that you don't hate me. BUT YOU DO, DON'T YOU?!?! GOD KRISTEN ZUHL, YOU MUST REALLY WANT TO SEE ME BLEED TO DEATH, SUFFER, DIE MY LAST BREATH. GO TO FUCKING HELL KRISTEN.

Disowning My Father: The Final Straw

Thin ice... And that's that. Stress was eating me alive earlier this month, not getting proper sleep. Eventually, yes, the police got a hold, put me through a shit show, but the last thing I was going to do was hurt myself/anyone else and I get pissed off or annoyed at that assumption at all, when the stress gets high. Proper sleep. Of course, I was taken eventually to ye ole' Cedar Hills. Fond memory hospital, which has gone down hill and been reduced to a place that is a threat to the patients there, but we will get to that later on. Well, I wasn't getting proper sleep. I could go live somewhere else beside the group home, you know, but guardianship imbecile parents equal fuck fuck fuck.... Injections! Funny thing, on the way to Cedar Hills we went right past St. Vincent's and I remembered the old Invega shot issue that we weren't allowed to talk about at St. Vincent's at all beforehand, and yep, I was right, I about killed myself/functioning was very poor for the Invega shot month back in September of last year. Yes, I resorted to meth, that's how I got through that ordeal, I don't regret it but I won't do it again if I'm not on Invega/Haldol and meth becomes a NECESSITY to function at my peak. You know, by the way, Pearl House, an imbalance in dopamine (low dopamine) is a possibility, I told them that and Cascadia was worried I would hurt someone over the dopamine imbalance I was complaining about. Cascadia, you are a stupid organization, a joke, and I do not like you. That is all. Anyway, we were talking about my father. After explaining to him how horrible both the Invega/Haldol shot were, he had them all lined up to do anyone. Seriously. He doesn't think I know anything at all about myself, is what he said. That's why I am done with my father. I disowned you, crackpot, I do not want to see you or be associated with you ever again, and I hate you. I am fucking done with you Feether Meeke. The good news is I wasn't injected with anything, there was a Vraylar Deal* * = Good Deal With Wonderful Perks/Faith Addition You know, as a side note, there was a discussion on the Spiritual Plane if I was supposed to tell anyone about Subbie when it first happened. Conscie heard there was this discussion and Facepalmed. Such a no brainer. Everyone else discussed it, and in the end determined I did the right thing by not telling anyone about Subbie. What is my response to this? You would assume, wouldn't you? That Subbie was such a big F-ing step up from the original delusional issue. No, same thing, same emotional impact, not making that fucking mistake a second time thank you very much. Right, tell people about Subbie, right. Butthurt? You are not my father, Feether Meeke. I hate you and we are done, that continues.