Chapter 66
Where do you think we are going to go now, Rachel? Alfred asked me.
Well, we could talk to the silia self some more...
Okay! Let's do it!
I started talking, using my silia self, about crazed fans and the like. How there would be two types of people who would come up and talk to me. The “oh my God! Oh my God!” fans, and the atheists who believed I was full of shit. In terms of who I liked best, it was a tough call, but when it came down to it, I liked the diehard screaming fans better than the atheists who accused me of lying.
As I was talking as the silia self, I kept resisting the urge to directly refer to my conscious mind. It was tougher than you would think, because it kept coming up. Then, something odd happened. I started feeling funny about it, it gave me an odd feeling, just thinking about the conscious mind. And in my mind's eye, I saw a camcorder, perched atop a tripod.
“What's that? Why do I see a camcorder?”
Oh no, bad news, bad news...
There was something eery and mysterious about the camcorder, something that seemed to represent looming danger. Consciously, I didn't notice anything bad about it... I couldn't understand why it was a bad sign... But subconsciously, it gave me a feeling of something wicked and vile, and that was the feeling that won out. All I knew was, consciously, I didn't want anything to do with the camcorder.
Time to call it quits, my guides said.
I wanted to know what it was all about, what the camcorder meant... I knew it was a gateway to something else, something very interesting, but instinctually, I knew it was something I didn't want to mess with. The camcorder was sitting there, taunting me... “Come in, Rachel, come have a look...” And I was not at all interested. Don't go there, I said to myself. Don't go there. Leave the camcorder alone.
I had to get that image out of my mind. Subconsciously, this was quite a struggle. I had to remove that image from my mind by tearing it to pieces and stuffing it in the reject pile of images I did not want in my mind, for reasons I had no way of telling my mind. I had to accept that this was a horrific death image, label it as such, and pretend it was not strange or unusual to label such an innocuous image as horrific. My brain did not want to do that, it wanted to check it out further, but I had to keep relabeling the image over and over again until it finally just let it go and accepted that this was something it did not need to examine. Over and over again, it kept popping back up, and I kept telling the image to shut itself off and put it through the redirection process into the reject pile. It did, and things were fine again. For the time being, I couldn't listen to the Kesha song Timber, because one of the voices they used in the production of the song reminded me of the emotional connotations of the camcorder.
I had done it. I had removed that image from my mind. I had narrowly adverted a catastrophe. When it was over, and a long time later at that, my guides told me what the camcorder really represented. It was a portal to something, a gateway to look at my mind, in a way that would make me realize I was nothing but neurons firing, which would eventually, in the end, lead to my complete mental collapse.
Well? Alfred said.
What? I said back.
What's it time for, sweetie? Did you come up with a name for me, yet? We're still going by Alfred, but I like to have your input.
Well, I came up with a name... But I don't know if it's good or not.
Well, tell us what it is! Alfred coaxed.
I don't know, I don't know... I like the name, I don't know if it's what you want to call yourself, or not...
Oh, come on! Just tell us! Alfred hissed.
My name for Alfred is... My name for Alfred is....
Is what? Alfred asked.
My name for Alfred is... loom, loom, loom...
Then I promptly laid down, for there were a bunch of cords shooting into my vagina. They wove an intricate web around my vagina, and then I got up and we danced.
What does the spell do? I asked my guides.
You cast a spell on chance and his friends. It makes them intricately involved in the sexual rituals involving your vagina.
Really? I asked.
We think it's best that you don't know everything that spell does, Salioness.
Chapter 67
As the days progressed, something was changing. All around, spirits were gathering. Not around me, above me, up in the clouds, or on the other side, wherever that was. When I was walking around the house, spirits kept intercepting my connection.
“Do you want to eat, Baybay...” They said in a goofy voice that sounded like they were mocking Alfred.
“I love you love you love you, Baybay...”
“Ooohhh.. Don't worry your sweet little tush, Baybay...”
Tell them they can go where the money is and beat it! Alfred said, referring to the annoying spirits.
Not only that, they could intercept my mind's eye and do visuals. I watched, and some were not at all funny.
They are trying to get a laugh, my guides told me. They are not unintelligent, not weak, but they lack people skills, these spirits. They don't really have any friends. When they do a visual, trying to get a laugh, if they get one, it's a story they can take home and tell people. If not, they do not say anything, for they don't usually lie.
I watched the visuals. There was one with a horse, and a man on the horse riding it, and then he fell off and the horse trampled him in a stupid fashion. It was supposed to be funny, but I didn't laugh. When he saw that I was still watching though, he did a Goofy laugh, like the cartoon character Goofy. Then, I laughed.
I was wandering around the house, not watching them on purpose, they intercepted my mind's eye so I couldn't help but watch. They started getting dumber and dumber, scarier and scarier. People laughing and screaming in a goofy fashion with stuff coming out of their eyes. It was supposed to be funny. It was just sad and needlessly rambunctious. I was starting to say to myself, “make it stop! Make it stop!"
After the success with the Goofy laugh, they all started doing Goofy laughs. Walking around the house, I was taunted with an endless cacaphony of Goofy laughs. It got really, really obnoxious.
One did an animation that wasn't funny, and it expected a laugh. When it didn't get one, it showed a man putting on a hat as he walked away. The hat was too small for his head, and covered with red hearts, which was interesting.
I thought that was not funny, but interesting. Did he know?
He did. They pick up on the energy you send them, and you sent that one good energy. Sometimes, when you laugh derisively at them, they know, and they know it's not a real laugh. They don't feel shame though, they just wish they had gotten a real laugh.
While I was falling asleep, I saw an array of poodles standing. Then a watering can, as someone watered the poodles so they would grow. I liked that one.
That one was an intelligent one, who knew a bit about Earth humor, my guides told me. Most know nothing about Earth humor.
I lost contact with my guides, and channeled some other spirits by accident.
“Hi, what should I eat for dinner?”
“We're not your guides, weird girl in red. We are ones who don't particularly like you.”
“Why don't you like me?”
“Something you would do in college and on the streets. Kiss men without worrying about catching diseases. We frown upon that.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Is this my guides?”
“No, we're ones who don't like you at all.”
“Why don't you like me?”
“In high school, you should have been popular. Not popular, but known amongst people. No one knew who you were. If you are such a good soul, you should have at least been able to do that.”
I got back in contact with my guides.
Most spirits think grades don't mean shit at all. But, most think popularity in high school does. That's the most important thing.
I started doing something strange. I would wake up, and hear part of a song in my head. Part of the Kesha song Timber. “We're going down,” were the proper lyrics. Instead, it changed to, “You're going down.” It was directed at my parents. I heard that over, and over, and over again.
I hate that. It sounds juvenile, I told my guides and Alfred.
It's not, roll with it, sister! Alfred said, and he started jumping and dancing. Everywhere I went, Alfred was dancing. I knew why he was dancing. In my mind, I kept picturing myself dancing. I could feel something building, tension, something very interesting was going to happen... I kept picturing myself that day at the hospital: “The medication! The medication! Acting like a fucking weirdo because I was injected with medication!” While I was dancing all around the room. This is why Alfred was doing it. He said he was feeling it too.
When I was ready to go to the energy drink store, I walked there and bought a Rockstar. On the way home, I saw myself living my life away from my parents, in the middle of the city, living life to the fullest, dancing, wandering the streets, and having an all around good time. Herds and herds of paparazzi followed me around. I was living the dream.
I was sitting in my room one night, when Alfred made a funny noise. The noise was weird, and awkward, but it stimulated something deep inside me, kind of like looking back at the livejournal and getting the blueprint feeling. It was planned.
“I understand that he said that, and I don't understand why, but I understand he did it on purpose, and I wonder if he's going to do it again,” I said, referring to the noise he made.
I waited, and he did another one. Another one which stimulated something deep inside me. A spiritual awakening.
He did it again, and I sat there. Then, without warning, I said to myself, speaking from the subconscious... “Now, we do this...” And I turned my head, then slowly turned it around, for alignment purposes. Then I started looking around the room, lightly brushing objects with my eyes, in a prescribed pattern. I did a bunch of things, all of which were planned, heard stuff in my head, it was all part of a spiritual awakening. One thing took me by surprise. There was a unicorn beanie baby on top of a lamp. I had to look quickly from one of its feet to another and then back again. It reminded me of the time I was waiting to go home very late at night at Leah and Lily's house back in high school, and there was a clock, with two large gold circles. I sat and looked quickly from one to the other, to pass the time. I thought it was dumb, but I was tired and I did funny things to pass the time. I thought it was dumb then, thought it was dumb now. But I was more taken aback that something so random and strange had been part of it, that it had happened on purpose, just for this moment.
Then, I said out loud, “Watch, the universe is coming to a close, the dawn of a new age awakens. We will bring in the dawn of this age, and stop bringing home diseases from passerby. Then, we will eat friendship with bums, and cross paths with the big ones.”
I love to watch the house become removed from your parents, Rachel, Alfred said to me.
After I was done, I started pretending to act all ditzy, and sing the Kesha song.
Whoops! I was listening to the Kesha song! It warped my personality to become ditzy!
Afterwards, we became friendly with the idea of loving people of our own kind, and not the kind my parents wanted me to affiliate with.
Chapter 68
What is it time for now, sweetie? Alfred asked me.
Well, we're not going to talk to the silia self anymore, that's for sure. We could spend some more time, talking to the subconscious.
Let's do it! That's what I wanted to hear! Alfred said proudly.
I started gabbing. “So, I heard a story about my friend Rob, from Innercept. He lived by himself, worked by himself, and made love by himself. He was a made man. Until Innercept found out he wasn't taking his medication, and he was sent off to prison.”
My guides interjected, “Is this true?” They knew the answer, they thought I was joking though because they didn't remember.
“No, it is true. It happened at Innercept. He was living in aftercare, thought he was doing fine, and then, bam! A staff member found out he wasn't taking his medication as prescribed. He did not take it at all.
“I love Chance. He is such a doll. We are like this.” I held out my fingers very close together. “No, more like, umm, this...” I imagined my fingers rotating, with one split in half lengthwise. “That's it. Anyway, I like him because he's funny, wonderful, and loves me so badly it hurts him in a small way everytime he sees one of my statuses on facebook. He is cute, wonderful, and drop dead funny.”
We walked to the store and got an energy drink, sipped, and returned to the house. On the way back, I started gabbing about my favorite actor, Robin Williams.
“So, I like Robin Williams. He is a good guy, but not at all about the money. I know that, we talked. Another thing we talked about is how much he enjoys my company. He says that after he died, he was upset, because he didn't want to leave his fans with the wrong impression. He was a fun-loving guy, very positive, and always cheerful. But he had the cocaine brain, remnants of which did not suffice to remove him from the rest of the world, and he hated life. When he got to be in his older ages, Parkinson's disease took over, and was interfering with his acting abilities. Then, he had problems from the narcotics he took in college, which removed happy chemicals from his brain. As he got older, things went downhill, and he was no longer high on life like he used to be. So there you go. There you have it. The portrait of a madman. When he got to be a little bit older, he removed himself from the public eye to begin work on his charity projects, but he hated every second of it.”
He didn't hate it, someone interjected.
“I know, I was joking, geez! Have a sense of humor! Anyway, he loved charity work, it made him happy to help other people.
“I understand the necessity of sarcasm, but some people don't get it, like Julia. When she was at Innercept, she made me have her life in a jar. She was always in touch with my emotions, and knew me better than I knew myself. Like my book. She told me it was bad. She knew it. She hadn't read it, but she knew, no one like me could have had an interesting life unless it involved drugs, and no one wants to hear tales of doing drugs. So there you go, reject pile. Have a good day, Julia. Suck a cock while you're at it, for once. That's the thing about Julia, she was always so prudish about sex. I hated that. You couldn't have one lousy conversation about blow jobs without her complaining and making grossed out faces. But then again, she never has had an orgasm, so we can't hold that against her.
“When I was seventeen, I lived with my parents. When Ian was seventeen, he lived in a bungalow at the sea. That's what he told me, anyway, on the spiritual plane. He told me a lot of things, like he thought I was attractive, but not pretty. That's what he told me, anyway. I think he was lying though. He says he hates women of a curvaceous build, but without the mellow undertones of the mania induced conversations we had, he would have given me no second thought. He took Seroquel, developed male breasts, and had to be changed to Risperdal. That's the end of the story. No one should have to take Risperdal. No one. Then again, I took Risperdal once. It was wacky, and cool, and crazy, in a gloomy slit your wrists sort of way. I understand the necessity of prescription medication, I used to take Adderall. Favorite thing in the world. It made me calculus efficient, to say the least. At least, I did a lot of calculus on Adderall. What does that make me? Calculated! Ba doom cha!”
I don't get it, said someone.
“It's a joke that doesn't make sense, like most of the dumb thoughts you have on Adderall. That's where I was going with that. Geez, Phwwww!” I did an airplane flying over the head motion with my hand, and was reminded of a cool move Bill O'Reilly did on the O'Reilly Factor one night, where he did a swift over the head motion. There was something about the way he did that seemed in control and snazzy, he was making fun of some people who had dissed him. As I watched it, my guides pointed out to me, it was funny how he did that. I thought so too.
“Bill O'Reilly. God, I love Bill O'Reilly. He is my favorite pundit. He is my favorite person in the whole world. Not because he is smart, that's not it. He is, but that's not what it is. It's not because he's funny either, which he is, but that's not it either. It's because we see eye to eye on the issue of my parents and the medication. He told me, hey, you don't think you need to be on medication, you don't think it helps, guess what? You are twenty-fucking-seven. You make your own decisions now. If you can get by, and not rob any liquor stores or anything, you should be able to do that. If you think you can make your way in the world without medication, then we should at least give it a shot. None of this, drug now, ask questions later mentality. You need off that shit if it's causing you as many problems as it is, and you say it is, and I know it is, because I pick up on that from your aura. But then again, that's what they all say, isn't it? They all say, we can live without medication, and then they live in a fantasy land for the rest of their lives.” I stopped for a laugh.
“Bill told me he would make a point of making fun of my parents every single night on the factor in a special section. He didn't know what he would call it, whatever snazzy title came to mind. Another thing he said was, remember to remove yourself from the situation if it gets too hard. If your parents are ever giving you a hard time over something they have no business to, just take a walk and leave. Get out. There is no use blowing up in the moment over stuff that needs not be a hassle. Another thing about you is, you love me. And I know it. And I love people who love me. That's why I love you.” I stopped and sighed, and did another phwww airplane motion with my hand. “That's a portal to Bill, when I do that, I call out to him subconsciously when I do that motion. That's why I keep doing it. Another thing about my dad is, he is always towards the left on every single issue, like immigration. I think, if these people are here illegally, they should not be here. If they are not allowed to come in for some reason, either the rules should be changed, or they should not be allowed in. None of this, oh, they deserve a good home, kind of mentality, because that's what gets us into the doghouse. Then again, so do drugs. Another thing about SSRI's like Zoloft is, they rewire the brain to be happy in a way that is unattainable, making you less happy in the long run. If you don't take them ever, you will be happier than if you take them and then stop taking them. Then again, that's the same with any drug on the face of the planet, now isn't it? Another thing about my dad is, he loves me. That's what he tells me all the time. He loves me. But I do best on medication, and right now I am doing horribly. So there you go, there you have it, there's my fears in a nutshell. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that this is not the end of the line for the hospitalizations, according to my dad. He says, you get hospitalized roughly once a year now. That's going to continue for some time. If you go off your meds, you will have to live at the hospital permanently. That's what I don't want. That's why, we say at the Zuhl house, medicate, relax, and die a happy death.
“Another thing I hate about Celexa... The way it always made me think I was about to fall off the face of the Earth. It put me in a weird mood all the time, a feeling of impending doom. It was fun, a little bit, wondering what was about to happen, but since I had never felt this way before I took the medication, I knew it was not the coming of the future, but rather, the coming of the end of the dose.
“I love the fact that when I have delusions, I don't understand where these little thoughts come from, but they do, they come dancing, dancing, dancing up the side... Like... Doot, doot, doot! This is true! This is true!
“I don't understand why everyone watches this. All I do is sit around the house all day, and sometimes I go to the mall, or my friend's house... And yet, all the famous celebrities are watching, wherever I go. Like, doesn't it get a bit dull?”
“I enjoy things of a friendly nature with ghosts. Is that what you call Alfred, a ghost? I think you might call him a slimeball, for not understanding that I have wants and needs in the bedroom as well. Like, when I get off, I like to get off about eight times, and then call it quits. When Alfred and I get off together, he gets off, and then I stop. Like, what about me? When do I get off? I'm falling off right now... Wooh...”
I started noticing something funny. I got a feeling of being a lump of brain cells, a lump of fatty tissue.
Okay, time to call it quits... my guides said. You are getting irked out. It is common to get irked out in this state, before it is very well integrated.
What is integrated?
Your conscious with your subconscious, they integrate together. It takes about six to nine months. Anyway, go splash cold water on your face.
I did so, when I came out, it hadn't gone away. I was a lump of fatty tissue in my brain. Like my brain was who I was, I was not a soul, I did not have a soul. I thought, tough break for atheists. This is how they must feel all the time. It was disgusting, and made me realize how deeply I believed in the spirit, and how everyone must, to avoid the feeling of just being a lump of fatty tissue in the brain.
It will go away in a little bit, we will do more tomorrow. If we do more right now, it gets worse, and you will feel funny for a few weeks. It's not dangerous, really. It's not the same thing as the camcorder. That's dangerous, but we weren't allowed to tell you that. This is not, it just gets really really uncomfortable and depressing and irksome.
I wondered about this feeling. It was an interesting feeling. People who did drugs were missing out, because they hadn't experienced the interesting feeling of being a lump of fatty tissue only.
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