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.
