BURN LIKE JESUS!: 73-75

Chapter 73

After we got back from the Quickee Mart, I ate some food and sat in the dining room. I talked to my guides about what I had been doing with my life, thought long and hard about the future, and joked around a little bit.

I thought of a joke, to tell my dad. It was about a game we used to play called the Great Dalmuti. In the game the Great Dalmuti, your standing in the game is based on how well you did the previous round. You play the role of the position you are in.

I went in the other room to tell my dad the joke. “The Great Dalmuti is a great game, not because it's fun to beat the shit out of others, but because it combines role play with stimulation.”

When I said stimulation, I meant mental stimulation. But I hadn't known what the joke was beforehand, just that it made sense and it was about the Great Dalmuti. What a raunchy joke! I was embarrassed like shit, and quickly ran into the other room before I could get a response from my dad.

I went to the bathroom, and thought about this. It was funny, in a way. I bet chance would think this was funny. I was sure of it, but I was still horribly embarrassed and worried that my dad had taken the joke the wrong way.

My dad called out to me on the spiritual plane, and said he didn't even hear what I said on a conscious level, so there was no need to be embarrassed.

We went downstairs to post a status on facebook.

Mysticism. It's not so much about the search for meaning as it is an obsession with mysticism, because mysticism is mystical.

No more statuses, my guides told me. You don't need that kind of energy right now. We know you are coming up with good statuses left and right, but you can't post any! They aren't as good as you think they are! They are good, but most people won't get a lot of them. They are spirit humor, not Earth humor.

We sat in the computer room, and decided to work a puzzle in our minds. We were going to remove the womb from a friendship I had. It was a friendship with Joey, a girl from Innercept. We had gotten into a fight on facebook about atheism, where I was adamantly opposed to atheism, and she was opposed to belief in the supernatural. I had won the argument, but she had thought she had won because she used a lot of big names of logical fallacies she thought I was using and claimed I was using them without citing where, and none of them even came close to fitting. When we were done making fun of her again, her deceased dad spoke to me and told me to pretend she was an airplane and shoot her across the sky. I did so. When I did, she would be out of my life and onto bigger and better things, getting in arguments with famous theists and winning them with her superior logical calculations. We laughed. When we were done laughing about that, another man spoke to me. Someone related to Elizabeth, a girl from high school. He told me that she was a good girl, but hated my rants about Innercept. So we made a large ball in the sky to shelter her from the horrors of Innercept, in case her parents ever decided to make her go there. Someone else spoke to me. A guy who knew someone from Sanctuary House. He told me to wither, wither, wither, or else forget the past and become one with the love of people who remove me from my friends list. It is okay to remove people you think are weird from your facebook friends list, it doesn't mean they have a problem with you, it just means they don't really care about your posts because they like the normal posts their friends and people they actually know post. We removed a bunch of anonymous posters from my facebook friends list, and added seventeen women who loved me more than I loved myself.

We decided to eat some more, as I was burning through calories quickly in this state. I went to the kitchen, and saw that there was Greek yogurt.

“Oohh!!” I said excitedly. “Greek yogurt!”

I actually didn't care at all to eat Greek yogurt, but Alfred made me say it excitedly, and placed it in my memory bank so that this memory would stick out, as I wasn't remembering much of what was going on at this time. Later, I thought back, and equated the “excitement” of the Greek yogurt with Alfred and his, “Oh boy! Pizza!” and it made me sad. Sad, because I should have felt excited, but didn't care. I got sad over dumb things like this.

I went over to the coffee pot, made coffee, and started to dance.

“Look at me! Doot doot doot! Look at me! I'm an angel's trumpet! Woah! Hey! Look at me! I'm happy and cool! Woot woot woot! Doot doot doot!”

That's not funny that's just sad, Alfred said.

I walked over to the house of pots. It looked like a cat was walking through the house of pots. I watched it walk, and then put my fingers over it to calm it down. As it calmed down, I screamed obscenities at the torch on the counter. “Where were you when I needed you? I have been trying to sage all day!” I screamed. Then, a cat came out of the house of pots, and looked me square in the eye. I laughed and petted it until it purred. We were done with the house of pots.

I was hallucinating a little bit, because of the state I was in. It made things appear out of nowhere, and disappear without a trace. When I looked at the mantle, I saw little men working a whipsaw on the mantle, if I relaxed my mind a little bit. It hurt to do this.

What are we going to do now, Rachel? Alfred asked me.

We are going to make fudge! I screamed. Then, I started to moan, and groan, and walk around in a huff.

What's wrong, Rachel?

I need theobromine! I groaned.

What are you doing now, Rachel? Alfred asked me.

I am waiting on the coffee, I need to stay awake.

Well, you know what you need tonight, baby, Alfred said to me.

What do I need, Sugar sweet?

SOAP!!!!

Woot woot! I said. I went in the bathroom and drank soap. Do I need urine?

Not now, you have the necessary other chemical in your diet. Before, it wasn't the urine itself, it was something in your urine that you needed to help the soap not destroy your body.

What do we do now, Spirit girl?

Well, I don't know what to do, but I know that it's going to be crazy, phww! I did the hand motion, calling out to Bill O'Reilly. I went back into the computer room.

“I love Bill O'Reilly. Did I say that already? He's cute, loving, and sweet. He says when the guardianship trial gets underway, he will talk to my parents about why they feel the rampant incessant need to control me. If she doesn't want to take meds, let her not take meds! It's her life! What does she do off meds, run around town and shoplift, take pills of a recreational nature, and fornicate? Nahh, she doesn't do anything of the sort. She's just not as calm as you want her to be. So if they are ever on my show, which I will invite them on, they won't come, I know liberals, I will tell them to back the fuck off. She's twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, however old you said you'd be by the time the guardianship trial is in full swing. When I get them on my show, I am going to be nice to them, Rachel. I am going to tell them they did an excellent job raising you, because you turned out so well. She doesn't need anymore help. She is perfect just the way she is, even off medication. I wouldn't even say, you should take medication, because I know how bad that shit is for you. I would say, I would not believe you are a mystic right away, but if you reach enlightenment while the guardianship trial is in full swing, I would notice and comment on it. I believe it now, on this level, because I see everything that you have been through and it is classic mystic stuff, but I don't believe one thing about what you are telling me, and that's that you can eat ice cream and not gain weight a lot of the time. You need to lose a few, Rachel. That's what I said, because I know you are going to be a sex symbol, and sex symbols are usually very taut and toned, and skinny, not flabby like you are now. But I know you have that under control, so it will be just fine. I am watching, I say, eat less ice cream, not like the funny joke, just don't eat it anymore. When you are through making a fool of your parents, come talk to me, you have a gig on the O'Reilly Factor as a correspondent. I don't care that you've never been to journalism school, you are insightful and intelligent, beautiful and sexy, and men dig that. So here you go, here's my number, call me.”

Well, well, well, my guides said. We need to eat some more food now, don't we?

NOT AGAIN!!! NO!! NO!! NO!! WHY WON'T YOU LET ME LOSE WEIGHT?!

It's dangerous to lose weight in this state, it causes damage to the internal organs.

I went in the other room, ate a salad, and came back. Then, we discussed chance.

“He's a great guy and all, but I don't understand his whole 'RACHEL ZUHL!' thing. He said it wasn't making fun of me, it was because he had a crush on me and I wouldn't talk to him, try as he might. But I did, I said hi, and oh, and yeah. That's all I ever said, he said. And that's all I needed to say to let him know I was hard to talk to. He tried one day in the 8th grade and made a fool out of himself, by saying he wanted to hook up. He actually did say that, but he wasn't direct about it. People made fun of him afterwards, he said. I don't remember consciously, I remember subconsciously, and it was not a big deal, it was actually funny. He yelled something across the room that was a sexual innuendo, but I didn't take it as such because I didn't have a dirty mind back then. Another thing he told me was he was ready to talk to me, he just didn't think I wanted to talk to him. I looked him up on facebook all the time, he said. Why? I told him it was to read his aura to see if he was thinking about me, he said, yeah right, why are you really looking me up on facebook all the time? I said it was to look at his picture and see if he is thinking about me, and he said, yeah right, why are you really looking me up on facebook all the time? I told him really, really, really. He said, yes, I know that's not the reason Rachel, it's because you are checking my picture to make sure I'm not thinking of another girl, that's more like it. I said you are always thinking of another girl, let's talk about when you are thinking of me! He said he was joking. I said, I am not. But believe what you will, dipshit.”

I sat there, and some other spirits entered the picture. They were mischevious, drama spirits. They told me what was going on, without meaning to. They would say things, and they would be so ridiculously inaccurate it was laughable, but horrible at the same time.

“Well, where did she get the money? From laundering it on the black market.”

“Why does she always look so sick? She eats way too much fattening foods, and it's making her barf.”

“Why does she eat food and not get sick? She stores the fat as fat.”

“Ward and Karen will help her parents with the guardianship case.”

I laughed at this last one. It was so blatantly inaccurate, it would be bad, if they did. Ward was my parent's friend, the inventor of wiki, and was highly, highly respected in the community. But why would they care enough to help my parents with the guardianship case? They don't even know me, they spend no time around me!

They do a little bit of research, they knew that about Ward, my guides said.

I recognized the energy of these mischevious spirits. They were the same spirits that used to bug me on the treadmill during intense invega withdrawals. I didn't know they were spirits at the time, but now I did. I had picked up on the energy subconsciously.

I got a very, very strong sense of deja vu from this last line though, the one about Ward and Karen. It freaked me out a little bit. My guides said that my deja vu usually means something, it means we are at a critical spot in the process of my life.

I left my room, and sat in the family room. In my mind, there was a bunch of flowers and pipes. Flowers and pipes, flowers and pipes. They made a screeching noise in my mind, and I hated it.

You know about the flowers and the pipes, don't you? My guides said to me. They occur during puberty for women, and men with homosexual tendencies. They configure to make the ideal private parts of men that you would like to copulate with.

Are they supposed to be so horrendous? I asked.

They are when you see them directly, my guides said. Do you want us to do something about that?

Yes, please, this is getting to be too much.

Okay, we will put a stop to the pipes and the flowers. You know, that's part of the reason the Angel's Trumpets bug you so much. They remind you of the pipes and the flowers. Angel's Trumpets bug everyone, especially the guides of women during puberty.

Okay, my guides said. We are going to show you something. First, an emotion you are not used to. The emotion associated with being an object.

They showed me an emotion, which I felt with my emotion center. It was a dumb, dumb, dumb, dehumanizing emotion, like you were an object.

That's what we feel when we think of someone becoming an object, my guides said.

Okay, now a more important one. This is the feeling you get, on the way down and on the way up, when you are a famous person.

What do you mean, on the way down and on the way up?

While going down to Earth, and crossing over after being on Earth, or whatever plane you are on.

I got a feeling, the feeling of making an impact on the plane, and being immortalized in a disgusting world you would not want to be immortalized in. It was creepy.

Most virtuous souls can't handle this feeling, that's why they don't want to do missions like this one.

I laughed. It was an irksome feeling, but more interesting than anything else. Like, you would want to experience this feeling if you had never experienced it before, it would seem cool. I couldn't imagine not wanting to do a mission because of such a miniscule issue.

It's much worse than that, when you are crossing over, my guides said. Do you remember feeling this way anytime before?

I remembered, and I did. I remembered when my sister was in junior high, and I was in elementary school. My sister got home one day from school, and said that she felt weird. At school, they were working on a project where they make commercials. They had watched a bunch of really old commercials on TV, from previous classes, and the video was so old, it was messed up, and it gave her a funny feeling. A feeling she didn't know how to describe, that she had never felt before. In her mind, she was thinking of photographs. The reason they faded away was because you weren't supposed to see that time anymore, the time was over, the universe didn't want remnants of that time period left around.

When my sister described this to me, I felt funny too, as I felt empathy. Only, the actual feeling was subconscious, the feeling, a combination of the object feeling and the fame feeling. Consciously, I was just in a weird mood.

You both felt the fame feeling, that's what she was feeling. It's an irksome feeling, my guides said.

But, that's the only reason that the goody two-shoe souls won't go on missions? Because of an irksome buzzy feeling? I laughed. I started going on and on about the buzzy feeling that irks out the goody two-shoe souls, and joking about what wimps they are.

They think it means danger! I chortled.

I went in the computer room, and past out for a little bit. It was late at night, and I was tired. When I awoke, it was time to do something interesting. They had me sit and think about something specifically, and when I was done, I automatically started singing, subconsciously. I went around the house and sang for a little bit. Then, I went upstairs, to bring this sinister melody upstairs.

“Weee...Ooohhh...” I sang. “Weee... Ooohh...” Just two notes. Two very sinister notes. I imagined this going into my parents sleep, and haunting their dreams. Both of them were fast asleep and did not wake.

I went downstairs, and Alfred came down and took my hand. “It's time for some sex, Sugar Plum. I have something to tell you. My friends are watching!”

This turned me on big time. I went into the computer room, bent over when he told me to so he could put it in my ass, then I lay down, and lusted.

I meant to send a whole bunch of sexual energy to Alfred. Instead of it going to Alfred, he deflected it, and sent it to all the major conservative commentators across the country.

There, you got a sex cord Bill O'Reilly, sex cord to Rush Limbaugh, sex cord to Michael Savage... Amongst many others, Alfred said.

Then, he waited for a second go. By this time, I was half asleep, or in a trance, or something, and didn't quite know what was going on. I didn't remember this part later at all, even subconsciously.

They made a list of their favorite conservative pundits, and sent them ideas of how to entice the masses by writing scripts on how Rachel does not need a guardianship. This was black magic. They were using magic to make sure the commentators picked up the story. Then, they did the same thing with the major news organizations, to make sure this story hit the big news conglomerates.

I then past out and went to sleep. I woke a few hours later, and the devil was in my aura. I had to sage the devil out of my aura in order to go back to sleep. There was a very sinister atmosphere in the house. They told me the singing beforehand was a necessary part of the spell.

It was time to eat again, sigh. I was standing by the fridge when Heath Ledger spoke to me. He told me that he was going to play a trick on me. Then, as soon as he said it, something happened to my breathing. I had to make a very conscious decision to breathe with every single breath.

Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out...

I was tired as hell, about to pass back out now that the devil was out of my aura. Now, I had to stay awake. What does one do in a situation like this? I know, make coffee!

I started making coffee. Then, I got a better idea. I could pray, to God.

I sat down on the chair and started praying.

“Dear God... I think we are friends, at least, I don't know if you like me or not, but you seem to... I would appreciate some help right now, as I am going through a tough time. This breathing thing is an issue, and it could be life threatening, if I were to fall asleep right now, into a deep enough slumber, which I am fully capable of, I could stop breathing and die. I know you like me, at least I think you do, or else you wouldn't be so chummy with me...”

At this point, though, I had some doubts. Not for any particular reason, maybe it was the gloomy atmosphere in the house... But I wasn't sure he liked me, considering how many people he hated. I thought he did though, but I wasn't sure.

“But I really need some help right now... I try to be righteous, I read the bible, go to church... I don't know if I do a good job, but this breathing problem.. Please god, help me, this is a bind, this is a tight spot, and I think I will make it out, since I have faith in you, but I don't know for sure...”

At this moment, the breathing problem went away. The part of my brain that was controlling my breathing went from conscious to subconscious, and I breathed naturally.

“Thank you, God, thank you. Amen.”

Saying amen isn't necessary, Rachel, God told me. I hear you. You don't need to say amen. We are friends. I meant it when I said you were my favorite. I don't lie, at least not very much, and not about things like that.

Chapter 74

When I woke the next morning, I had a feeling of doom. The devil was still in the house. No one else was up yet. There was a feeling of ravaged turmoil all over the room. Alfred had been joking before about a song I made up in the fifth grade, a dumb song, about a mess at dawn. I came up with it in this room, and I had picked up on the energy of this exact moment, back in the 5th grade. This room now had the exact same energy to it. I was in the family room. There was an energy of ravaged turmoil, of vultures, of rotting flesh.

Uhhhhh..... What happened? What did we do? For the life of me, I couldn't remember. Just that something really bad had happened, and I didn't remember what it was.

It wasn't bad, Alfred said. You don't remember? We did black magic.

Oh man... I felt withered. I looked around the room. There were shadows, something was flying around the room. Some sort of mythical animals were circling.

Do you want to talk, sweetie? Alfred asked.

“I know you have a lot of good ideas... but Satan in the bedroom... I don't know about that. It wasn't a bad, idea, no. But I don't think it was a good idea either. I think we need to talk about our sex life before we try things the other person might not like, like this Satan in the bedroom. I think it's a good idea to try new things, yes, but Satan in the bedroom... I don't know. I don't know about this. I think we are in deeper than you think,” I told Alfred.

I stood up, and went to the bathroom. I was bloated in the stomach area. I felt pregnant. I felt like whatever sex act I had done yesterday had made me pregnant. I wondered about 16 year old pregnant girls at school, and how awful it must feel. This felt awful.

I remembered the dream I had had, that I had asked about. The one where I had eaten a whole bunch of dirty kitty litter, and had to take care of the mess right now. This was the situation I was in now. My guides knew it, they had lied, and they said so. I couldn't remember exactly what had happened. The last thing I could remember was bending over so Alfred could fuck me in the ass.

In the morning, I talked to my mom for a couple minutes. Unwilling to tell her the whole story, I told her I had a problem last night where my breathing became conscious, and I couldn't sleep because I'd stop breathing.

“But breathing is a biologically programmed function!” she said, like this was ridiculous.

I laughed. No shit, Beev, I thought.

It was time to take a shower. I went upstairs, undressed, got in the shower and sat down.

“You know, I have always loved my mom. She is the one who made me the one I am today, yeah right, not at all. I don't like her, no. But am I entitled to an opinion? I am her child, she is my mother, she loves me unconditionally, I love her unconditionally. Which basically means, I'm not entitled to an opinion. She cares about my well-being... Really? No, not really. She wants to see me medicated, yes. But that's not all. She wants me to accept that I have a mental illness, so that she was right all along, and she can flaunt that, however subtly, in my face. That's what I gather from it. I don't know if it is correct or not, I don't know if she really cares about me. I don't think so, but I don't know. Maybe she does. I really hate her. Really, really badly. It is like Eminem, and his mom, only, more conniving. She was outwardly vicious, my mom is subtly vicious. Eminem's mom forced him to take valium, or something to that effect... My mom forced me to take Ritalin, invega, geodon, abilify, lamictal, depakote, zoloft, lithium... To what effect? Does it help? Well, no, it doesn't help. But it can't hurt, right? If it's prescribed by a doctor, it can't hurt. That's what they always say. The doc knows best. When I grow up, I'm not having kids. There. I said it. No kids. It is easy to say, well, when you have them, you will change, and you will love them... I hate kids. Seriously. And it's not even the dopamine-deficiency talking, with me thinking the things kids say sound embarrassing childish, therefore really annoying me. I mean, I hate the way they look, hate the way they act, and hate there faces. I hate kid's faces. They are so ugly. Another thing I hate is the way they look when they wear clothing and they are babies. I hate babies more than anything else in the world. I wouldn't mind a kid being born at the age of seven, so you skip the yucky years, and then you act as a mentor towards the kid. That would be okay, I would like that. But I don't want a baby, I don't want to baby a baby, I hate babies. Always have, always will. Another thing I hate about my mom is the way she used to touch me when I was younger. She would touch me, tell me she was loving me, and it made me sick. I hated it, I told her to stop, she would say, “oh, just loving you, darling,” and it revolted me. It created something akin to an engram, to associate sex with revulsion. Seriously, you think you are messed up sexually? You are, and that's one of the reasons. It would have straightened itself out, if you had gone through puberty, but the facts are, you didn't... You didn't go through puberty, Rachel. I know you like to think, well I was that way once, I wanted to have sex, I had sexual fantasies, I liked boys... And you did, you did. But you don't know how intense the hormones get. It is hard, especially for boys, but for girls too. Very much so. And when you are telling your kids, do not have sex, and that's all they really want to do, they will do it. They will find a way. And if you tell them, we are not giving you birth control, because that makes us responsible for saying it is okay if we did... That's mean. Not because they need birth control, but because you are forcing them to have unprotected sex. You need to at least make it available, not the parents, the teachers. It's okay to allow access to condoms in schools, it helps. Not birth control, I think that is going too far. If you let your students have free access to birth control, it opens the door for all sorts of things they should have free access to, like IUD's, abortions, etc. Do you think the school should be supplying abortions? Do you think tax payer dollars should go there? No, one sex session, one condom. There you go, you tried it out, and you liked it. Condoms are cheap. Birth control gets expensive if you have to buy it month after month after month. One more thing about babies is, they smell bad.”

Good going, Sugar Plum. But if we were together, on Earth, I would want to have a baby with you, Alfred said.

“I would not. I would not want to bring a child into such a sick, twisted, sadistic sexual scenario. Anyway, that's why I'm a nymphomaniac, that's why my sister's a nymphomaniac. We both hate my mom. And as my guides told me, that's how it happens. You make a subconscious decision never to be that kind of woman. That's why we are both nymphomaniacs, me and my sister. We don't want to be like my mom. But anyway, back to Alfred. I love Alfred. When I was sitting alone last summer, I heard him talking, and I thought he was funny. Not all that funny, but funny in the right way. I loved his sense of humor. Now, my feelings have grown stronger, as I am with him day in and day out, hearing his jokes, laughing, and having a good time. I treasure these memories, this is the best time of my life. I would never do anything to hurt him, ever. I love him too much. He is the shining beacon of hope in my life, he is going to help me out of this situation, and I know I will make it out, with him by my side. I love him. I always will. I will always cherish him...” I start to get a bit teary eyed.

“I will always love you, baby.. I will always care about you, baby.. I want you... I need you.. Baby, never leave me...” I started crying, right there in the shower. I wasn't washing, just rinsing off. I got out of the shower.

As I dried off, put on clothing, and walked by the shower room again, I looked in, and imagined myself crying in the shower, bawling and bawling, bawling my eyes out, over the top crying, so sad, so sad, over and over again, crying until I could not cry no more. As I cried, wonky vines hung down around me, as if from the Angel's Trumpets, though those plants had no vines.

What was that? I asked my guides.

It was a memory, you were remembering just now. Back, several years ago, when you cried for Brandon, right there, in that shower, my guides told me.

I remembered that, and was glad. I was glad I had someone who loved me, who would never leave me, who would never turn on me, whom I loved back, and who was hear with me right now. We would never part, never, not until the end of our time on this dimension. And even then, maybe not.

Chapter 75

Something happens when you get close to learning the truth. You shy away from it... Not because it's bad, no. That's not the reason. But, maybe, because it's too much... Like, wow, it's good? Wow... I didn't want to know that... I didn't want to know that... I didn't want to know that... WOOOOH.... Woowhowhwho....

We went downstairs, out the door, for a walk. As I walked, Alfred pulled things out of my vagina. Wonky, wonky things like dildos and wonky beef jerky dicks. When we were through with my walk, I felt like I had just had sex.

When we went back in the house, it was time for a symbolic act. I went into the kitchen for fuel. As I opened the fridge, I saw a piece of meat. I ate it ravenously, and then sat down to talk to my guides some more. While we talked, a large piece of meat came out of my throat, and engulfed me entire being.

Eating meat is bad in this state, but ever so necessary, my guides told me. It is time for a symbolic act to counteract the act of killing the cow.

I went upstairs, took out a piece of paper, and made a little shelter for the cow. Then, I created lots of grass with my mind, so that the cow had a place to live. When we were done with the shelter, we threw out the piece of paper.

We went downstairs, and it was time for another symbolic act. I made a fort out of pieces of yarn, through them in the trash can, and then did a symbolic dance. When we were done with the symbolic dance, it was time for another shot of caffeine.

While we did symbolic acts, I would feel funny if I was getting too wrapped up in it. I would start to feel slightly wonky, over flowery, and sugary in a way that was elven village and made me sick. If I got off track, my guides would send me a signal, using wiper blades. I would see wiper blades in front of my eyes, and I knew I was going in the wrong direction.

As I was running around the house, doing symbolic acts, Alfred kept making sexual faces at me, and saying, “You're ours. You're ours!” over and over again. They said I was doing better than they had planned on, and I was growing spiritually at a significant rate.

Whenever I lost my sweatshirt or my iPhone, my guides would move my head to the correct place in the room. Sometimes, they would direct me to go upstairs. I was in such a weird state, I didn't understand where I left my stuff.

When we went to the corner store to buy an energy drink, I got lost. I went the wrong way. My guides told me, no! Energy drink! Energy drink! And I remembered which way to go. On the way back, we did a symbolic act in the street, a funny wiggle of the butt as we walked, and talked to the guides about funny things like marketing for my book. They said I would not have to worry about that, the publisher will take care of that. I worried that I would forget all that was happening right now, that all of it would be lost down into the abyss of things not remembered. My guides said, no worries, we are taking notes. We will remember this all for you.

We walked around the house, doing symbolic acts for quite a long time, before my guides reminded me of the swallowing problem. It was time to do something about that. I said, okay. This is caused my an aversion to swallowing semen, and then doing it anyway. I got out a shot glass. Looked for something gross that I wouldn't want to eat. I looked, got frustrated, found some old crusty honey. This will do. Filled the shot glass with old honey and a bit of water so it was more runny. Drank it, then spit it out in the sink.

“It's important that you don't swallow,” I said to myself.

Time for a cold shower, my guides told me. I went upstairs, got in the shower, to get rid of the swallowing problem. I sat down, turned the water full blast cold for as long as I could bear, and then some, then turned it to hot. Then, I talked to the swallowing problem. It told me it was not a result of swallowing semen, but rather, something about when you are kid, swallowing your mother's milk, and wanting to continuously swallow and keep eating constantly. It told me it was going to go away now.

I got out of the shower. Dried off. In the back of my mind, I was still thinking, don't swallow. Don't swallow. If you swallow now it's all over. I wanted to go for a walk, but my parents told me no. I went outside the back door and walked around, still thinking about the swallowing problem. I wished I would just switch gears and stop thinking about it.

I couldn't get out the gate, so I went out the front door, down the road. I stopped. There was a funny totem pole thingy I had never seen before. Later, when I went back to look, there was no tree or anything that even vaguely resembled a totem pole. An angel spoke to me. It told me right now, everything was okay. All I had to do was breathe. Breathe. Breathe. And live in the moment.

Immediately after it said this, I started flapping my arms very slowly. I put on the song, Ordinary Day, by Vanessa Carlton, and started dancing. I was dancing for the Mormons, I thought. It was only Mormons, mostly, who came down this street, going to and from the Mormon Temple. I remembered a long time ago, when I was in high school, my sister made a video of herself and some of her friends out near the Mormon Temple, while smoking cigarettes. A car stopped, and a lady pulled up. She said, “these are very special grounds, could you please smoke out there?” I wanted to make the grounds a little bit more special, by adding some mysterious night time dancing.

I danced to the song, on the sidewalk. I noticed some cars past. None slowed, or anything. I looked at their faces, and they didn't even look at me. Time to turn it up a notch, I thought. I started dancing in the middle of the street. Now, the cars slowed. I smiled and waved, danced several times to this same song over and over again, all the while, I was still thinking of the swallowing problem, but it was in the back of my mind. I remembered a quote from Kurt Vonnegut, in the book Slaughterhouse 5. “This is a good moment. Why don't we just focus on this?” I thought, that's a good quote for now. This is a good moment.

After I finished my last dance, I screamed and waved at the car. Right afterwards, as I was walking back, my parents pulled up. They heard me scream. I knew that they had engrams about me screaming, and the engrams were being activated now. They made my parents weird in a controlling way towards making sure I don't scream. If I scream, they wanted it to be somewhere where no one who mattered would be able to hear it.

I got in the car and was taken back to my house. At the house, my parents lectured me about my medication. They tried to give me too much. I told them that was not the right dose. They said, “well it seems like you need a higher dose!” I darted in and out of their rooms, making them angry, and yelling. A second ago, I had been having a good time. Now, I was having a stressful time.

On top of that, I went downstairs and sat down, and there were cords. A hell of a lot of them, too. I knew, I was in the throngs of a mystic experience. I was being tested. My guides were not going to cut the cords for me. I knew I could die. At one point, I looked up at the light fixture. My guides had told me, if that light fixture ever looks wonky, you are in serious trouble. I looked up, and bam! WONK. But my guides had also said, if it gets to a certain point, we will cut the cords before it leads to any serious problems. So I knew I was safe. Still, there was a pretense that I was in danger, like when I had to make a conscious decision to breathe. However, I was calm, because I knew it would be alright.

The last thing I wanted to do was sit around and cut cords. These were cords from the black magic session the other night. But I knew I had to. If I was going to be an energy worker, I had to be prepared to work hard. So, I sat and disconnected cords. I was tired out of my mind, and wanted to pass out and sleep. But I knew that if I passed out, these cords could kill me.

After awhile, my guides told me I needed food. I got up and ate something, sat back down and started disconnecting cords again. This went on for quite awhile. After awhile, my guides told me they had messed up and it was time for bed. “We messed up. Go to bed.” They had not messed up, but they thought it was a good thing for me to go to bed, because I had forgotten that I was awake and not in a dream. I went to bed and slept, for a few hours at least.

Burn Like Jesus: 71 & 72 (slumber was scarce)

Chapter 71

Okay, so, you need to drink some stuff from the cupboard, my guides told me. This is an important time.

You are about to make a difference in the world, Brittany Murphy said.

I went to the pantry, and did as the directed. I drank some vinegar, and some other sauces in there, then drank some worcestire sauce from the fridge. After I did so, I felt much better. I went to bed, and lay down. In the middle of the night, I was up. My mom got up, and went into my room. She was tugging on the blanket. There was something odd about the way she tugged on the blanket, I couldn't put my finger on why that was odd. She was trying to tidy up a bit... It was like... She wanted me to be comfortable. There was something subconscious about it that I could not put my finger on consciously, there was something indicating I had some sort of power over her.

In the morning, when I got up, I figured out what was going on. When I touched her, I knew the exact way to touch her face or her hair to get her to be happy. I could manipulate her easily, very easily, just by touching her face with my hands.

My guides told me I had attached a cord to her, and she had accepted. It was a cord to make her easy to manipulate.

I sat in the computer room, and talked to myself.

“When a girl eats bacon, she suffocates on the rinds of putrid neglect of the self. We are all like that girl, eating bacon, except we do not need to remove ourselves from the situation to see what is going on. When two women eat bacon, they remove women from the picture of inequality, and create a world of suffocation for all. When we eat bacon, it is hard to understand what goes on in the mind, for it is too worldly of a food to neglect to eat often enough. When we eat bacon together, we remove ourselves from the bacon mold, and bacon ourselves together in a threshold of reluctance to comply with society's norm. Do you eat bacon? I do. I do!! When women watch their weight, it is hard to understand where the weight goes, it goes down, but where does it go? Out the window? Down the toilet? I think it evaporates. When three women watch their weight, we all know what happens to us. We desire something which we cannot attain, and that is the biggest folly of man. Why watch your weight when you can eat bacon? It's easy to understand how badly we love food, but not how much we desire to be thin. When two women eat bacon separately, it makes way for bodily shame and feelings of self-loathing, however large or small they may be. Do you think I need to tell you how badly it hurts me, conscious mind, when you tell me you want to eat bacon but I tell you you cannot? It hurts me ever so badly, but I know what's best, and that's that. When women of all different ethnicities eat bacon, it is hard to believe that they don't know how much it hurts themselves, but they do it anyway. Why? Why don't they fight the power? Why don't they face inequality head on? It is hard to understand why women of different ethnicities don't fight back and remove bacon from their lives, because bacon equals death threats and turmoil, but not as badly as tequila. Why do women drink tequila? Some would say, because it is easy to stop the pain of the wandering womb, but then again, who looks to those things for significance? When I eat bacon, I don't drink tequila. It is hard to understand why tequila drinking is good for you, but we know it is not. So there you go, there you have it. In a nutshell why I hate bacon and tequila for dinner.

“Well, well, well. Where did the time go? It's time for dinner! I need fuel, stat, but first we are going to discuss myself and Alfred. We decided a long time ago, we would write the literature on the soul/silia relationship. Why does the silia always need the soul? The soul needs the silia, no, it does not, but it wants the silia, because the silia provides what is best for the soul. Why does the soul do things to the silia that are not good for the silia? Because it knows what's best for the silia sometimes, but more, because it likes to keep it on its toes. Another reason the silia is so happy is because it pleases the silia to please the soul, so the silia is always happy. When the soul is happy, the silia is happy. When the silia is unhappy, the soul can be happy if he chooses. Another thing about the soul/silia relationship is, how does the silia know what the soul needs, and why does it always please the soul? Not because it wants to, it is a hardwired need. Another thing about the soul is, it thinks it knows the silia, but it does not. The silia is unruly, and needs to be kept in line by the soul. When the soul does not keep the silia in line, the soul loses the ability to perform its everyday functions, and it becomes one with the souls who do not love other souls, but otherwise, the soul is perfectly happy when the silia keeps him happy. When the silia is unruly, the soul knows how to keep the silia in check, and punishment is often necessary. For if the silia were to go free, the silia would take charge and be the one on top, all the time, and the soul would be the bitch. But the soul cannot allow that, for it is the natural order of things for the soul to be on top, and the soul needs to be on top because of its standing in the world. Another thing about the soul/silia relationship is, it is easy to understand why the women do not want to be the silia, but have to be, because the silia is the position worthy of those who cannot make friends with souls of a superior race, but not because of their standing, because of their womanhood. For the silia is the woman, and the soul is the man.”

What if the silia does not fulfill its duties? Alfred asked, slyly.

“The silia has a hardwired need to fulfill the the soul's desires, if it is not met, the silia will do everything it can to fulfill the soul's desires. If the silia fails to do this, the soul also forgives the silia, for it is okay. That's it.”

That's not what I wrote down, bitch! Alfred screamed.

“No, but I thought this was more fitting. I understand you think the soul/silia relationship is about sex and pleasure, but it is also about caring and understanding. If the soul forgives the silia for not making him happy at all times, it is okay for the silia to forgive the soul for loving someone else at the same time.”

What if the silia does not desire the soul any longer?

“The soul would wither, Alfred. The soul would wither. The silia always desires the soul, it's easy to understand why the soul loves the silia, harder to understand why the silia loves the soul. The soul is hard to find out in the spiritual realm, and it takes a pretty tough cookie to crack the ways of the soul, but an even tougher cookie to crack the ways of the silia. If the silia desires something other than affection, the soul does not provide it, the silia must find it on her own. If the silia does not find what she is looking for, she is allowed one more item in her bag of tricks: a fornicator's license. The silia is not allowed sexual relations with anyone that the soul does not approve of, but the soul is allowed sexual relations with whomever. If the soul does not desire the silia anymore, the silia's duties are relinquished, and they part ways. If that were to happen, we would say, 'goodbye, Pussycat Brawl!' and we would remove our one thing that happens with the soul/silia relationship that is easy to remove, the habits of the silia intertwined with the habits of the soul.”

Hey, now! That's never going to happen! I'm never going to have my fill of you, Beeb! Alfred said enthusiastically.

“When the silia endures hardship, it is easy to understand why the soul does its duty to prevent the silia from enduring more than its fair share. When the soul loves another soul, it does not use its mind, rather, its body, for the heart of the soul belongs only to the silia. When the silia gets unruly, it is the soul's job to keep it in line, with constant supervision and sexual discipline, without the use of force or vile acts of reproach. Another thing about the soul/silia relationship is, it's hard to believe that the soul would fall for something so petty as the silia, but the soul knows why, and only the soul knows why. Another thing about the soul/silia relationship is the belief that one of them is greater than the other... Neither of them is more than the other, but the soul is awesome in a way the silia is not, however, the silia has its own powers. Another thing about the soul/silia relationship is the belief that one of them is not better, but they are equal. When you think of it that way, does this relationship work? Nope, it does not. That's why the soul is always superior to the silia, very much so, and the silia believes the soul to be the best thing in the world, not the universe, the world, because it's not all that great, but it is great. When the soul is made fun of by another soul, the silia will butt out. This is not something for the silia's involvement. If the silia finds itself to be detrimentalized by another soul, we will understand where the peach desires to be shown off at, the soul puts the silia on display for other worthy souls to destroy at the soul's own pleasure... The silia enjoys it a lot of it the soul is very stern with the silia, for the silia deserves severity when severity is due. If the silia is not getting what it needs, it does not have the right to leave, ever... Never, never, never... It must voice its concerns, and if the soul finds it fitting, he will make compensations. When the soul is ready for sex, the silia is always ready, and has been for awhile. The soul desires what it desires, and it knows what is best for the silia at all times... When the silia does not eat food for three hours, the soul makes sure she eats a good, hearty meal. When the silia does not get sex for three hours, the soul makes sure the silia gets plenty. The soul does what it can to ensure the silia is having a good time, not because the silia wants to have a good time, in fact, the silia would rather not have a good time. But the soul insists upon it, and makes sure the silia is having a fun time everytime they have sex. If the soul desires other people to be part of the sex situation, it is at the soul's discrepency, not the silia's. If the silia does not desire sex with one of the people the soul had decided can have sex with the silia, the silia's voice is not heard. The soul knows what's best for the silia, and the soul always gets his way. The silia never gets her way. If there is an argument, the soul is always right. Period. End of story.”

Well, that's the literature, for you, we'll add to it later, Alfred said happily.

Chapter 72

Okay, so what do we do now? I asked my guides.

You need something to drink, like water or milk, or coconut water, my guides said.

I went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of coconut water, and started chugging. As I sat in a chair, a funny woven hat appeared on my head. My guides said it was a hat of integrity, and it is worn by those who believe in the power of the Holy Ghost. Another thing about it was, it made the world appear more in depth and beautiful. As I got up, I snapped my fingers in a succession, as to create a positive vibe in this room. In the kitchen, I removed a piece of paper from a counter top, folded it in half, and stuck it on my head. I walked around, and looked around, pretending to oversee an emotional event.

I took it off and threw it in the trash can, without warning, it popped out of the can and removed it's powers from my life. I watched as it billowed around and made worthy the island, the counters, the refrigerator. Then, when it stopped again, it was back in the trash can.

Excellent, I said. We needed to clear away that emotional energy, from all the times I did things in this kitchen.

My guides spoke to me. How about a snack? You haven't eaten in hours!

Okay, how about some... hummus! I got out the hummus and started eating, not enjoying the food, eating for nourishment.

Okay, time to recreate a scene from my mind. Let's use this paper right here, but it in a water bottle, and move it around the house. When we are done, we will have created good vibrations for the rest of the house. I started to do it, when Alfred stopped me.

That's not how it works, Sugar Plum, Alfred said.

It does work that way though, I think. Anywho, time to take out the wastebasket to the curb, and remove myself from this situation.

That's not it either, Sugar Plum.

Okay, then, why don't we remove the house of it's bad vibes?

Good going!

I got out my incense and started incensing the entire house. When we were done, the house felt a lot better.

Okay, what now? Alfred asked me.

We are going to remove this picture from the fridge. It is an awful, awful picture of the four of us. I removed a picture, and my guides said do not throw it out, leave it somewhere your parents will not find it and replace it.

Okay, now what, Sugar Plum? Alfred asked me.

We are going to ask for some guidance from a higher power, like the other side or something! I said, and went to talk to someone other than someone I had already talked to.

I talked to the spirits of intelligence, and they told me that I was needing to refuel my bloodstream before I became part of the intelligence guidance place again.

I sighed. Okay, time to eat again! I went over to the kitchen, got an apple, and started eating.

Okay, what now, Sugar Plum?

Let's talk to the intelligence spirits again!

The spirits told me that I was not doing as well as I could be in the motivation department, if I got out of the house and went places, like to the bank, and withdrew lots of money, I could make a fortune being rich on that money.

That was sound advice, Sugar Plum, Alfred said.

Let's talk to them some more! I suggested.

The intelligence spirits removed the ideas in my mind that prevented me from succeeded in the business realm, and created a sense of serenity when it came to making due with what I had at the given moment.

I walked around the house, juggling invisible prescription pill bottles.

“If the medication has side effects you don't want, just take this medication to make the side effects go away!” I screamed.

Well, well, well, my guides said to me. We need you to lose about 15 pounds in the next moment or so, to make your parents think you are anorexic, so they will stop worrying that they were wrong about something they were so sure about.

“What is this here? I said. A presciption for klonopin? Why, no, I don't have anxiety, but I have Adderall dark spots! Does that count? Does that count as anxiety? Maybe we should go on something else to enhance the dark spots, than on something else to cover them up!” I screamed.

Well, well, well, my guides said. Do you need a bottle of vodka? That would perk you right up for the presciption dose of lithium! What is this? Your idea of friendship with a ghost? Please, you need help with your ghostly issues of withered womanhood! Pretend! Pretend you are one of those women who demand equality! Pretend! Pretend you care about the fact that women make different pay for different jobs! Pretend! Pretend! Pretend!

“What is this, right here? A wonderful bottle of Adderall? Oh boy! Oh boy! Time to sit around and think repetitive, useless thoughts until my brain falls out of my skull! Oh boy!”

What do you have there, sweetie? Alfred crooned. A bottle of penis enlargers? We know what that means... You enjoy large dicks!

He was referring to the fact that I entice men of large penises, with my vulgarity.

What is this, here? Alfred sang. A vibrator? You have a vibrator? Oh no! They're going to know you masturbate! They're going to know you like to enjoy orgasms when you have no sexual partners! AHHHH!!!

“Well, well, well. What is this here? A bottle of body lotion? Well, well, well. Do you want your massage in here, or in the other room? I think it is better if we both take off our clothing, so we can become aroused by the other one's bodily smells!”

Well, well, well. What is this, a masseuse license? You need a license to be a masseuse? Well, well, well. Let's smoke some dope and see if it helps our body's cravings for inhalants!

“Why are you ready for the show? I enjoy your show, Erik, but I hate the fact that your dad always spouts conservative Republican propaganda about fire arms and Republican fornicator pretend Vicodin use habits!”

We watched my parents argue about the costs of living, and then, it was time for an energy drink. We walked to the store, and bought one. As I sat at the store, I looked at a poster with a woman with her eyes opened really wide. This poster seemed to stimulate something deep within me. It was part of my awakening.

As I was sitting on the bench, I got called out to by the pope. He told me, “Well, well, well. We know who made it out of the castle without a scratch, huh? Watch out, you will need help with your channeling... I will help you. When you are done channeling, you can come over and have a beer with me and my pals in Vatican city. Afterwards, we will live it up on the town, and pick a few fights with strange men. When we are done with that, you will tell me how to rule the world with that awesome necklace you put on.”

We walked back. On the way home, I saw a car filled with young women. They cheered. I cheered louder, in my head, and my guides cheered with me. This was what I had been doing all along, I talked loudly about on the way home. Starting a riot.

Burn Like Jesus (70) CHAPTER, Fun in the Sun

Chapter 70

What do you think it's time for now, Rachel? Alfred asked me. “Sugar Plum, sweetheart.” He was happy with me.

I think it's time to eat something, I said, reluctantly, as I still didn't feel like eating.

My mom told me I was going to get a blood test tomorrow. I was worried like hell. More worried than I had been for a long time. In a normal state, that would have been just fine. But now, I was in a very sensitive spiritual state. I didn't know if I could handle the pain, or the idea of someone putting a needle in my arm. I thought about it, and cringed. No, no, no. Not tomorrow. I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it!

While worrying incessantly about this, I tried to go on facebook to post a status. Facebook wouldn't load. In fact, the internet wasn't working at all. My worries about the needle disappeared, and turned into an irrational worry about the internet not working. Now, I told myself. We have been having a lot of internet problems lately... We are just having some more. But I couldn't help but worry that my parents had found out I was going through a weird time, and they turned off my internet. This was a paranoid fear, of course they hadn't done that. But I was so, so worried about that, and I couldn't help but fear that's what was going on. Later, my guides told me they shut off the internet in my room, using their magic internet powers, because they didn't want me posting facebook statuses during my current “episode.”

My sister found me upstairs. She was over for dinner, it was a Sunday night, and they had just gotten finished eating. I told her I was doing well, but something about me made her think I was not. I was on edge. I was angsty. I wanted to kill both my parents.

“What is this? WHAT IS THIS? You live here? No, you don't live here. So why do you come over and eat dinner, pray to God, and then tell me I can't live here without eating food? You know, words. Believe, ye brethren. I hate you, Kristen!”

“Let's take a video,” she said. She videotaped me, I opened my eyes really wide, and then she showed me the video. I was still going through my spiritual awakening. This was exactly what I needed to see, this video opened up something inside me.

I screamed at my parents in the hall. “I'm fine! It went fine! Everything is okay!” I was worried I was acting like it hadn't gone well, like I hadn't had a good time, and that wasn't the case. I screamed, cried, and yelled their ears off. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I was saying. I didn't want to, but I was provoked by their funny attitudes towards me.

“Okay, let me ask you this, what do you think I need?” I asked my parents and my sister.

“We think you probably need less caffeine and more medication,” my mom said.

“Aihhh!!! Wrong! Now, let's play a game! Let's play a game!” I imagined myself as Robin Williams in One Hour Photo, in this moment. This movie reference helped me think, helped motivate me to pretend like I was living out a scene in a movie, and jumpstarted my brain a little bit.

“We don't want to play a game,” my sister said.

“WE ARE PLAYING A GAME!! It's called, what do you think I need? Why do you think I'm not doing well right now?”

“No medication?” my sister suggested.

“Too much nicotine?” my mom suggested.

“Too much caffeine?” my dad suggested.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” I said enthusiastically. I was scared to death they were going to take me to the hospital.

“Alcohol?” my sister suggested.

“I'm thinking alcohol,” my dad said.

“Nope, way off,” I said.

“Were you taking supplements you weren't supposed to?” my mom suggested.

“Nope, way off,” I repeated.

“Have you eaten?” my sister suggested, finally.

“Ding ding ding! There you go! You got it right! I need to eat! I am famished!”

After this, my parents relaxed. Given a logical explanation for why I was not acting like I was okay, they believed I would do better if I had something to eat. They had said themselves, both of them, I am less manic once I've had something to eat.

I got out some food and began to eat, calmed down, and felt a lot better. Everything was okay now. My parents went upstairs, and I started talking to my sister about something I had been thinking about earlier this year, that I thought she would like.

“Kristen, I know you like games, so I have an idea for you. I was thinking, what if sex is just a game? It's a game, Kristen! The game is, you pretend you love the other person more than you love yourself! And then you get together and pound together, pound, pound, pound, in an effort to poof! Switch bodies!”

My sister smiled. “I think that's a valid theory, but what if you don't love each other that much?”

“Then it turns into a very perverted game, trying to pound the shit out of the other person in order to gain some sort of advantage over them.”

My sister was getting ready to go. I knew she was going back to her life of being an entertainer, and she hated that more than anything, but it was something she had to do. I looked at her, touched her shoulder, as she was heading out the door. “Kristen. Never forget that you're a lady.”

She was always trying to hard to be glamorous, trying so hard to look the part of being female. I knew her job took a horrendous toll on her.

B.L.J, Chapter 69 (Dumb part that we learn from the hard way, like the entire thing)

Chapter 69

>

Babies hate peekaboo.

What do you think I should do, Rachel? Alfred asked the next morning.

What do you mean? I asked him.

I'm going through a lot of energy here, just keeping ahold of your ideas in my mind. I want to watch, but I need spirit sex too. It's like, come on, give it a rest, I want to watch! No more of your thing! Wait for me! No more!

Well, we could ask the subconscious mind what she thinks about that... I said sarcastically.

Come on, Sugar Plum, just call it quits for a little bit.

I was going to meet up with my friend from Innercept, Terry, and his wife Angela. They were good friends of mine, they had both been staff members at Innercept. We were going to go to a park and hang out, while they did some sort of fly tie thing, because Terry was a fly fisherman. I was worried: would I be acting funny? Would they notice something was wrong with me? I didn't know, but I wondered.

“I don't know what's going to happen, but I know this – it will be fun,” I told myself, out loud, using my subconscious mind.

I walked around the neighborhood, and talked to myself. I still hadn't addressed the subject of the bad ice cream joke. It was a growing problem, because it bugged me whenever I knew Robin was around. What had started as no big deal, was rapidly growing in magnitude. Sure, it was no big deal. But with me, and my brain, little things got magnified into huge issues. I was talking around the subject, and going off on tangents, when I talked about Robin. After awhile, I made a decision that I would probably address it. I talked about the dark spots.

“So these little issues, little microscopic issues... Times where I said the wrong thing, or didn't say the right thing, or acted something like dumb, not usually, but sometimes... Things that shouldn't be issues at all, become enormous problems in my mind. It's like, I don't find that embarrassing, you don't find that embarrassing, why can't we just let it be a done deal and make out with our problems and call it a day? Instead, I have to freak out like mad whenever an issue similar comes up, like when Robin says, hey, want to go have ice cream? And I say, sure, Robin, let's get double scoops!”

Yep, that's where it was going. I knew for a fact at this point that he knew about it, I implied he already knew, but I didn't directly tell my conscious mind he did... I knew it wasn't an issue, but still, there was this refusal to address the issue head on. And then, I did. I just said it. And it was no big deal. Still, there was a degree of anxiety when he was around, a very large degree, and it was bothersome. I almost didn't want him to be around.

I got ready, but on slightly mismatched clothes, a pink floral skirt and a patriotic tank top, and no makeup. Angela came to the house to pick me up. We rode through the city to the park, way over by where Todd lived. It was a park I had been to many times with Todd, and at which I had created many memories with Todd.

“So, you've heard of the saying, 'first world problems?' Like, a first world problem would be, having a cookie that is too big to fit in a glass of milk?”

“No, I've never heard of that before,” Angela said.

“Well, I thought of another first world problem. You break the cookie in half, and the cookie crumbles a little bit, and you get less cookie.”

She laughed.

We got out, and I walked over to the event to meet Terry. There were booths set up, I didn't bother to look at what the other people were doing. Terry was tying flies for fly fishing with kids. I noticed the one he was tying with was an amputee, and was missing one hand. In the background, reggae music played.

I reached out and grabbed Terry's hand. “Hey, Terry!” I sang.

“Why, look who it is! My favorite person in the whole world! Well, well, well.. I've been sitting here, all day long, waiting... And then you show up, looking snazzy, walking with my other favorite person in the whole world, Angela! Thank you for meeting me here! Say, do you know how many women it takes to unload a dishwasher?”

“No, how many?”

“As many as it takes to load a dishwasher!” He chuckled.

We talked for a little bit, cracked some jokes, before they pointed me in the direction of the food and told me I could go buy some.

Alfred pulled a sex cord. “Soul knows best, eat some of that down home cooking!”

I wasn't hungry, even in the slightest. Sure, my blood sugar was low, and my stomach was rumbling, but I didn't feel like eating at all. I felt like I was one of those people I had seen on the internet, one of those feeders/feedees. Those are couples where usually the woman is morbidly obese from the man constantly stuffing food down her throat, on purpose, to make her gain massive amounts of weight. It is a sexual thing, for both of them. Needless to say, I found this lifestyle repulsive. I imagined that this is what this was.

Come on, I'm not trying to fatten you up, you need fuel! Alfred cried.

Instead I walked over to the convenience store, in a funny state. I felt like I had done some sort of drug, yet, I had not. This was me, naturally. I walked in, and they said they had checked out the store for me ahead of time.

Alfred pulled the cord again. Soul knows best. This way! This way! Almost there! There you go, chocolate milk.

I really did not want to drink something so rich, but I had to. He pulled the cord again to nudge me to the cash register, and I felt that feeling of the feeder/feedee again. “ooh, this is kinky in a bad way,” I thought to myself. I stood in the convenience store, took off the seal to the drink, and placed it on a surface instead of in the garbage can. For whatever reason, I thought that was a more fitting place. As I went to leave, I had a thought. What if I put the seal there, then, I go back, and the entire time I spend at the park, I have a page open, something in the back of my mind, telling me, “go put that seal in the garbage can.” A huge amount of my mental processing, dedicated to wanting me to finish an unfinished task that was so trivial and dumb. We laughed, and Robin laughed, as he got the joke. Brain problems could be so problematic. It was funny, because it was things like this that created that kind of problem I was this close to making this issue a real issue.

I left, and headed back towards the park. On the way, I stopped at the crosswalk. A girl honked and waved. I did not notice. They were waving at someone else. Then, I stopped and almost waved myself, but did not.

On the way back, I stopped at the restroom, but the door would not open. It was locked.

I went back to where Terry was, drank a diet coke, and chatted for a couple moments before heading off again. We decided to do some more talking, with the subconscious mind.

“I don't understand what the big fuss is about cat-calling. It's alright, I think, if you don't like sexual advances, and you don't like being seen in a sexual light, and you don't know who loves you in a sexual way. But for the most part, people like to know they are attractive. It is easy to tell a woman, you are pretty, you are ugly, you are fat, you are skinny. But when a woman is out and about, and a man is sexually interested in her, it means more than anything else. To be seen in a sexual light, not any other kind of light. So, I don't understand why women hate cat-calling. Are these the same women who feel bad about their bodies? You have eating disorders, or exercise disorders, or issues with their bodies not looking the way they want them to? Because it seems to me, if a man is interested in that way, and you are just looking your everyday self, it's a sign that you are worrying needlessly. You are alright. Your body is attractive, do not worry about what the men say about you behind your backs, you are looking good and no one can take that away. So when I get cat-called, which happens quite frequently, I think, “Yes! Yes! I've got it!” And I know a lot of other woman think so too. So I don't like these women on facebook, the oh so attractive ones, who get cat-called all the time, trying to ruin it for the lesser women by pushing this “say no to cat-calling” campaign. It's hard to understand why women like to be cat-called by some women, who see it as a sexual threat. But I do not, I know better. That's it. That's all. That's why I think the world will be a better place if men just cat-call the women they are interested in.”

As I was talking about cat-calling, I kept thinking that Robin Williams would like what I was saying right now. I didn't address it until later, and then found out that I had already talked to him subconsciously about this very topic, and that's why I knew he would like what I was saying. It had embarrassed me a little bit, assuming that he would like what I was saying. I thought it was because of a time, which I had mentioned to him already, when I was 14-years-old, and we were in FAO Shwartz in San Francisco. We were standing by the front of the store, and I heard my sister say, “Robin Williams!” I got excited and looked around, wondering where Robin Williams was. Eventually, I saw him, wearing sunglasses, not recognizable by first glance, but if you took a second to look you noticed it was him. When we asked my sister what had happened, she said she had been standing there, minding her own business when she noticed a man staring at her and smiling. When she looked at him, she noticed it was Robin Williams.

“When I was five, I liked to eat food a lot. When I was 18, I still liked to eat food. Now, I don't mind it, but don't particularly like it either. Still, I get tempted to eat all the time, out of habit. Like, why not have the extra side of tater tots? Or, just eat a banana, it will make you feel better. Not because I really want to eat, but because it helps me think! Does it really? Does it really help me think?” I tapped the side of my head with my finger, as to send a memo to my conscious mind. “YES! It does so! And then, when we go out in public, I always notice how fat women are. Seriously, am I really that unattractive, compared to all the other fat women? I'm not really that heavy, I mean I'm not skinny, but I'm not that heavy either. When I walk down the street, I find out how much I look like a woman. Men honk, sometimes, but not usually. Usually, I just get the sexual interest energy, which does not feel good, not bad either, but not good either, but lets me know that I'm looking hot. That's why I say, girl, don't worry, baby, don't worry. You are looking good, baby. You are looking good.

“When I was seven, I made friends with Debi Miller. She was just like me in most ways, but not all. We were both fun, both funny, both friendly, and both weird. That's all. That's it. That's why we got along. When I got a little bit older, I started clamming up. We went to camp, and she would talk to all the other campers in our cabin, but I would just sit by myself and introvert, while occasionally talking to the official weird girl in the cabin. One time, when I was at camp, a girl told me it would be fun if the tractor was going around killing people and we had to hide, and then proceeded to hide from the tractor when it came around. We got a good laugh out of this, it was so dumb, we thought, so dumb. That was the official weird girl in the cabin. There was always an official weird girl.

“When Debi and I got a little bit older, we decided not to be friends anymore. No, we're not friends, my dear. We are acquaintances, and we could be friends again easily if we pick things up where we left off, but we're not friends. I sent her a letter, while I was at Innercept, and I said some things that weren't embarrassing, but might be seen as odd, like the fact that I had had misconstrued ideas. When I got out of the program, I saw her not at all. And when I went home for the summer, I saw her at the wedding. She seemed eager to see me, I don't know if it was fake or not, but I think it was not, because she told me how much she wanted to get back with me and be friends again. I think she was for real, I don't know though, people lie on the spiritual plane all the time.

“Another thing about Alfred is, he's a great guy. But I don't understand what the fuss is about, hey, we are not going to be together forever. I know what's going on, I know how it's going to work. Who knows if we will even want to be together forever? And even so, what if that's not the end? Because there is some research, and it shows that we keep ties perhaps when we pass over to the next dimension, so that could mean that we do not lose ties with our loved ones. I know this, my conscious mind does not. But that's okay, that's all right. We are friends now, and right not, this is all we have. The here and now. Let's toast to the here and now.”

While I was talking, I vaguely wondered if I had come across some original reason for knowing that ties are kept on the next dimension, like this was something people didn't already know. I wondered, and then suddenly worried. Damn, that was stupid. Of course it wasn't original, of course you don't know anything about this. God, how dumb!

It's okay, Salioness, don't worry about it. You need fuel, my guides said to me.

Alfred pulled the cord. Soul knows best, back to the store!

I walked back to the store. On the way, someone was sitting and looking at me and asked a question, and I asked what he was talking about. He said he wasn't talking to me. I was embarrassed, but not really. I knew it wasn't really a big deal. It reminded me of when I was in the seventh grade, and a guy asked me a question on the bus, and then I found out he wasn't talking to me. I was so, so embarrassed. It was funny, because what was once embarrassing, was now no longer embarrassing.

I walked over to the store, went inside, and they told me they would lead me to what I needed to eat. I walked over to where they were pointing, and there were sticks of beef jerky. I took a stick, purchased it, and walked out the door. On the way out, two 20 something men opened the door, I quickly walked out and said, “excuse me!” “You're welcome!” one of them said. I was thinking I should be embarrassed about that too, but was not.

I walked over and sat down in the park, on the grass. I began talking about what a mystical moment this was. I was sitting there, watching the people pass, and loving the moment. In actuality, I was uncomfortable about something. Robin Williams was making me uncomfortable, he was there and his presence made me nervous and anxious. I knew it was okay though, I didn't have a problem with him being there. It just made me a little on edge.

“Now, this is a pleasant moment, if you look around, you see the children playing, the grass is green, the sky is blue... The air smells wonderful, the music is pleasant, everything is great. Whenever something like this happens, I usually worry worry worry, because I don't want to go back to the hospital, ever again. But then again, I sort of enjoy the hospital stays, they are sometimes quite pleasant. Not like this day at the park, though. This day at the park is exceptionally pleasant.

“I like to worry about things, but I don't think there is anything to worry about right now... Let's look on the bright side, this is a very cheery day. I enjoy the way the sounds intermingle in the air and create a cacaphony of sounds indicating the presence of summer, and it is summer still, technically.”

As I was sitting there, something which made me even more uncomfortable happened. My stick of beef jerky, which I was currently taking out of the packaging to eat, turned into a penis, not Robin William's penis, but a penis with the essence of Robin Williams. It was still a funny shaped penis, long and slender, which reminded me of wonk, and the sort of things I found wonky. I was wearing a wonky hat too, it was red and bulbous. In the background, there was a Cheshire cat. It was a real Alice In Wonderland moment.

“See, this is pleasant right here. We can all just tell ourselves, hey, things are good, things are great, we don't always see the big picture, but right now, let's just look at the small picture, and think that this is a good moment. Very pleasant. It's hard to understand why anything could be wrong in this moment, when everything is so great.”

Really, in actuality, I was uncomfortable to the extreme. It was funny, but it made me uncomfortable.

I got up, disposed of the beef jerky packaging, and went back over to Terry and Angela to hang out for a little bit longer. When I was done conversing with them casually, I headed out to walk around again.

“It's hard to imagine how anything would be a nuisance to me at this moment... Yeah, true, I don't understand a lot of things about the world. But then again, neither do the people in charge, and they make it by. Another thing is, yeah, we always have problems at home, but then again, yeah, it's hard not understanding what's going on when I am in a funny state, but yeah, I'm in one now, but yeah, it's all right. I don't know what's going to happen, I don't understand where this is taking me, yeah, it's all right, things are going to be okay. It's hard to understand how anything could possibly be wrong right now, when things are so perfectly suitable to my tastes, but yeah, I think things will be just fine. I understand the issues at hand, and I think, yeah, they are going to turn out all right. No, I don't know where I am going in life. No, I don't know what's going to happen next. Yeah, I think it will turn out all right. No, I don't think I will go to the hospital tonight, or tomorrow night, or any night for that matter. Yeah, I think things are going uphill in life, things are getting better and better...”

I went on and on. Every time I said “yeah,” my voice had this ring to it that was effervescently pleasant. Everything about this moment was pleasant, the way I was talking to myself was soothing and funny, though I didn't laugh out loud. The thing about it was, I was dancing around the subject, and that's what was bothering me. There was a certain refusal to address the real issue head on, and that was that I didn't know what was going to happen, if I was going to the hospital, or if anything bad to that that effect was going to happen. As I walked around the park, I was having a good time, but there was something that negated from the fun, and that was that I didn't know what was going to happen. It was a looming darkness for this otherwise pleasant moment.

“When I get back to the house, don't worry baby, I'll let you eat some food. You need to eat, baby, it will help you.”

Is there anything wrong with calling my conscious mind baby?

“No, baby, no worries, I know what's best for us. You call your conscious mind baby, I call our conscious mind baby. That's where it comes from. If you want another nickname, I would say, not baby, but funny girl. So, funny girl, ready to go home?”

I walked, talked to passerby, and made my way back to the tent. Terry and Angela were getting ready to leave. As we left, I got the impression that there was something depressing about this particular event that I hadn't picked up on. I wondered if it had something to do with the one girl being an amputee. I was worried I hadn't spent enough time with Terry and Angela, but not that worried, because they had been exceptionally busy the entire time I was there, and hadn't had much time to talk with me either. While in the car, I tried hard to listen to Terry, but it was difficult with my current state of mind. He made a joke, and I laughed, not getting the joke, but recognizing it as a joke I've heard quite a few times before.

When I got home, I felt sort of ravaged, like something weird had just happened. I went upstairs to take a shower. In the shower, I kept talking to myself in that one effervescently pleasant frame of tone, where I would say “yeah” in an indifferent tone when I would think of something I was really worried about, to offset the fear. I thought this was the funniest part. I would just say, “yeah,” and my voice had this little ring to it, about something I was worried like hell about, like it was no big deal at all. My guides had to tell me to stop using this frame of tone, it was wearing a groove in my mental state, I wouldn't be able to pull myself out and go back to talking normally. So I did it.

Burn Like Jesus: Ch 66-68

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.

Burn Like Jesus: Chapters 63-65 (SUBBIE BEGINS!!!)

Chapter 63

Alfred, why do you love me? I asked Alfred one night.

Because you know how to suck cock, now bow down, bitch!

I started sucking his invisible cock. When he came, I pretended to swallow his semen.

I got stuck in a loop. Everytime I swallowed, I immediately felt the uncontrollable urge to swallow again. It was horrible, it was embarrassing, and it was annoying. Finally, after awhile, I stopped doing it, when my thoughts went elsewhere.

What's that, Sugar Plum? Why did you do that just now? Was it too much for you?

The swallowing problem.... I breathed.

I had had this problem before, at Innercept, when I used to do cough syrup. Later in the evening, I had this problem where I would start swallowing over and over again. I would end up swallowing a bunch of air, then burp, then immediately after burping, start swallowing again.

Why do you do that, Sugar Plum? Why do you continue swallowing even though you don't want to?

If I stop... I can't stop. I can't stop doing it. It's out of my control!

Well, Sugar Plum, the only way to get over it is to desensitize you to it! How about a toast? He held up a glass, and we toasted, not to the new age, to the dawning of the demise of the worry wart.

I started swallowing uncontrollably again.

Awww, don't do that, Sugar Plum! He laughed.

Chapter 64

I think female porn stars should be called pornomaidens.

Hey, Sugar Plum! Alfred screamed at me the next day. How about we talk to the silia self some more?

Okay! I said enthusiastically. I was still feeling a little bit funny from the energy drain.

Don't worry, the energy will rebuild very shortly. Let's go!

So, I started using my silia self to talk. The silia self talked about people she'd called out to on the spiritual plane, like Brandon. Apparently, back in the day, I had called out to him and flung myself at him.

“And then... I said... He said.. NOOOO!!!! He told me he was interested, but not in more than a sexual relationship. If I wanted that, I was fine. I could have it. But no more. NO MORE!!!!”

I straightened up and acted proper. “I miss Matthew. I miss Matthew! I wish, he would just, call me or something, because it's been like, forever and stuff, but he's always busy... Always busy.. I miss him! I miss him!” I wiped invisible tears from my cheek. “I miss him!”

Then, I did some funny movements. “I wish I could just, somehow... God, so restraining!” I moved my body, trying to jump out of it.

“Then, he told me, I was not the one he loved, she was...”

Who did? Alfred asked.

“Stephen,” I said. He was a guy I knew from Innercept, who I had skyped with a lot.

“And then, he told me, watch out! I am your man! The very next day! And I'm like, what? What? FILTHY ROTTEN SCOUNDREL!!! I LOVED YOU!!! BUT YOU DIDN'T LOVE ME!!!”

We talked on and on, and I acted out scenes from past lives, scenes I didn't understand at all consciously, no way jose, but Alfred did, and thought it was really funny.

I dig your silia jokes, Alfred said.

I wondered what the silia jokes were. Were they jokes I made subconsciously to him when I was acting out the scenes? I didn't know.

At one point, I got tempted to refer directly to my mind, because it was holding me back. Talk to it, talk about it, do something to that effect, bring my awareness to the thing right up there inside my head.

Don't do it, the spirit guides said. It's not dangerous... It's just really, really dumb. We don't want to see it.

I knew it was going somewhere I didn't want it to go. I was directing it a little bit consciously, and when I brought attention to my mind, I got a vague funny feeling, a funny feeling like, this is something that would be very very interesting, a good story to tell later perhaps, but not a fun experience. Don't do it. Don't do it.

Chapter 65

Where do you want to do it? The guides asked me.

Do what? I asked, wondering what they were talking about.

Talk to your subconscious mind, silly girl!

We went downstairs, and sat in the family room. Your go, they told me.

I began to talk out loud. “Well, I understand the necessity of my brain, but I don't understand all the weird zombie girl stuff. I liked weird zombie girl, but it wasn't that funny, it just tickled me the right way. I don't understand why I went over it so many times in my mind, thinking it was the funniest thing ever. It's funny, all right, but not as funny as weird zombie boy. And I understand where you are going with this, Rachel, but you don't need to make me have such horrific images in my mind all the time with the weird zombie boy thing going through it all the time either, okay? Another thing is, I liked my dad's idea about working out less and eating more food, but I think that does not work in the long run. It is hard to maintain a lifestyle of eating a lot of fast food and not working out, and not getting really really heavy, like him. So from here on out, no fast food, okay? Sure? Okay, conscious mind. That's fine. Another thing is, I have no idea where you find these things going on in your brain, Rachel, the idea of your love of spiders, and insects. I hate those things very, very much. I don't want to look at them all the time in a computer game, that's just too much dumbfuckery for my taste. Another thing is, I want your dad to stop looking at my mom and making dumb ass remarks about how she's right all the time. She's a dumbfuck, but he listens to her about everything. Everything she says, goes. I hate that. I wish they would leave me the fuck alone, and forget my medication every time they want to give it to me. Another thing is, I hate my dad a lot less than my mom, but I hate both of them the same. They both sent me to Innercept, both took away my rights, and both made me eat food I didn't like when I was fifteen. Not what you're thinking, dumb girl. Outside the box. Ideas about what I need to do to make a living. I don't want to be a computer gamer, I hate computer games! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them! I liked Sim City, I did not like Sim Ant, I did not like Starcraft, and I hated Diablo! Stop making me play those damn games! Another thing is, you are good at working at your mind problems, but not at feeling a solution to the good part. Your algorithmic programming abilities. You are good at it, yes, but you don't know shit about how to make it foolproof, so stop acting like you program flawlessly! I'm actually not serious, you are better than most people at making games. That's why you could do it if you wanted to, but I don't want you to, so don't! Another thing is, I like to eat food right when I go to bed at night so that I don't have to work as hard burning fuel all night long. Okay, not really, I'm not serious. Don't eat before bedtime, it hurts me. Another thing is, you are a good girl. Don't let guys walk all over you, don't let them sleep with you if you don't want them to, and don't give in just because they want to do something with you! We both hate that, but you are such a pushover, you just let guys use you all the time! I hate it! I do not care if you love me, conscious mind, I love you so much it makes me feel good just hearing your voice all the time, but I wanted you to know a few things. And so, that's it, that's all. That's what I wanted to tell you.

“I wanted to talk about something that I love to think about. That is, Bill Clinton. He's my favorite. Seriously, I love Bill Clinton. I love him so much, it is hard to understand how much I love him. But no, that's not it. I don't love him because he's a sex symbol, which he is, that's true. He is the best guy for making the world a better place, and he did a fantastic job as president. One thing that's not true about the Lewinsky scandal, it ruined Bill's career. It did not, it did not even put a damper on it. He is wonderful at putting on a show and pretending that never happened, but it did happen, so let's talk about it. He was the one who told the public that he was not having sexual relations with that woman, and he was. But that's not the point. He did, but that's not the point. He had sexual relations with other women as well, and that wasn't the issue. He was good at making things look like they were okay even when he was accused of obstruction of justice, and glossing that over, and doing his best despite all the bad press. I love Bill Clinton. He is not only a sex symbol, he is the most wonderful man on the planet. And that's what I have to say about that.

“Why do you think I like this, conscious mind? I don't like talking from my perspective, it's hard to understand what you are thinking most of the time, and it hurts me to understand where it seems we are going all the time. I know facts, yes, that's true. But it hurts me to realize how far it goes in the ways of the masturbatorial place... You need to masturbate more. That's final. Just do it.”

We went on to talk about some of my sexual fantasies, and how they came to be, and the reasons why I had them.

Energy Rebalancing: From Nervous Wreck, to Commander Cool

When I was 27, I got in touch with my spirit guides. I was so happy because for a long time I had been obsessed with psychic stuff, yet not able to harness my own power, suddenly I was psychic. It is a long story and I don't want to get into it here, what I want to talk about here is energy rebalancing. From age 14, I had taken Adderall. I also took Ritalin as a child. The prescription drugs do say, not for longterm use. As I took Adderall every day, a drug that enhances dopamine, the equilibrium reacts by shutting down dopamine production. Over time, this turned me into a nervous wreck. I had to avoid topics in my mind, and when the right topics came up, I would start screaming my calming word "spirits," and acting like I was going haywire.

My spirit guides told me they were going to do something called energy rebalancing, to correct the longterm damage that was caused by the Adderall. The doctors didn't even know that this was a side effect of longterm Adderall use, they just told me not to be so hard on myself. But I couldn't stop flipping out about little things that were embarrassing that I should have just let go, no one is perfect. It bothered the people around me that I couldn't just stay calm.

In the summer of 2014, my spirit guides started doing energy rebalancing. At first, I was in turmoil, my body started releasing a whole bunch of adrenal that had built up in my system from the Adderall. It was painful, but after about a week, I felt some sort of zest for life that I used to only feel on Adderall, when I was off it and sober. It was a miracle! Over the course of the next year, the biochemical damage, the "dark spots" as I called them, over time they ceased to bother me. I calmed down, mellowed out, and was back to normal, off drugs.

This is just one form of energy rebalancing. They do it for all drugs, except Thorazine, which is too complicated. For alcoholism, if you do not get energy rebalancing, it leaves life feeling dreary.

I can't imagine going off Adderall without energy rebalancing. I wouldn't have been able to feel happy, I would have always felt incomplete.

My spirit guides are announcing that they may do energy rebalancing for a fee. Email me at TheSpiritGirl@yahoo.com.

This is not a scam. There are a lot of paranormal scams, like the one where the psychic tells you you have a lot of negative energy that needs clearing. Sometimes people do though, which is the thing. But this is a common scam.

Write me about energy rebalancing!

-Rachel Zuhl