A Lure

I wrapped up the food I've just heated up for myself because my mother was in the kitchen doing things extremely violently to show how angry she was to see me existing before her. She walked by me in with fierce ignorance and I felt so inhumane by this I couldn't eat.

I shoved it in the fridge along with many other wrapped up food for the same reason. My mother muttered something about me doing this and then walked off to go sit in her chair and continue watching soap operas.

I walked out of the kitchen and said something rude. I forgot what it was but it pissed her off and I asked her if she was going to hit me. I continued to be rude until she got up and I was walking closer to her screaming at her to hit me.

Then I ran to her with the intention of hitting her myself, I think I was screaming something. She ran off. I reached the spot she had been at and got on my fours like some monster. I was breathing harshly and laughing. I spotted my mother and ran after her around the living room, lunging and reaching violently everytime she had slowed down.

I was very low on the ground, looking at my mother viciously, my sister saw this and she really thought that I had lost my mind and maybe I did, but I thought I was just acting, my sister screamed in horror and ran away from me. This scared me because I thought she would never get near me again. I dashed toward my mother.

She ran down the hallway where it got dark with black fuzz. The black fuzz from the lower astral realm. It got even darker in the bathroom, actually I could hardly see. She ran into the masterbedroom and there was the evil pit, the trap that has been waiting for me. There was nothing but darkness and no way out. The infinate colors of outlines of other beings were everywhere and were so intense, they were all vibrating and shaking wildly.

I was tossed onto the bed somehow, on my back and screaming. My mind fried up and I was suddenly a little kid screaming for her mommy.


I awoke to my dad standing with his face inches away from me in the dark. I found this to be extremely frightening and annoying.


The masterbedroom had been the place where I saw the thin man.

For two days in a row, yesterday and the day before that, I had to reach over into the room to grab the doorknob and close the room shut because my dad left it open and that room scares the crap out of me and I don't know why.

Today something took the form of my mother, but this all took place in this house and I know it was a projection because of the way it was set up and the puppet master didn't know that my mother sat on the couch at home and watched TV all day, the puppet master made my mother take my dad's role, which is sitting in front of the computter in the computter chair watching soap operas. Also I can never mistake that black fuzz for anything else, I've seen it a million times or more.

Anyway, the boogeyman almost had me and I know I have to get out of this place before he takes me away like he's rumored to have taken many other children. This is why it creeps me out and I'm sure it's him. He turned me into a kid in that masterbedroom. He did that because I got away when I was a kid.

I'm going to go home today as soon as possible. This is extremely bad, it had lured me into the masterbedroom, if I decide to stay, then that's not a good sign. I need to get out.

They're Not Dreams

These past two weeks I've been falling asleep and waking up in a rhythm that makes me think I haven't slept at all. I'm probably getting two to four hours of sleep a night, and every moment I've spent with my eyes closed are packed full of imagery. They're not dreams anymore. They're not what I see in my meditations either. This is different, like entering that plane where I heard that music, except I'm not going anywhere. It is like a cross over of a lucid dream, astral projection and every meditation and spiritual practice ever thought up and practiced into one amazing one. It's like my brain exploded and the colors are beautiful! It's not sleep either, I don't think it is anyway, it feels way too different. My entire being is weightless, for hours until I get up. There is no pain from mental or physical exhaustion, there's nothing actually good or bad, only that universal estacy traveling through every inch of my being for hours, which would probably be labeled good, but if you've felt it, you'll agree with me that it can't be labeled.

Also I've been eating very very very little now. I can barely finish half a small of bowl of food. Meat is repulsive. My body rejects it from three feet away. I would find it appealing until I come close and then turn away. It's not that it looks disgusting, it just feels disgusting.

How I've reached this point is probably because I've been meditating a lot, I've been doing yoga with the intention of purity, sleeping with a candle lit at night, I've also been drinking a lot of dandelion tea and taking fish oil, vitamin c supplements, beet root and biotin. I still have a really addictive personality, I've replaced hard liquor with coffee and I'm trying to replace coffee with green/black/dandelion tea. It's rough to get rid of it completely. I don't know why I'm trying so hard to be healthy. Oh, that's right, I've just recently developed a fear of physical aging. If I find my way around it, I'll jump back into binge drinking without a second thought.

Bloodchoke

I was standing in line that stretched far to get to the movies. The ticket guy came over and strangled me. He somehow held the temples of my head at the same time. I don't remember why I didn't do anything. The manager came sometime almost too late. The ticket guy went away. The manager took a look at me. He said something about if I was bleeding or not. I waited. I felt something in my thoart. Something, thick, slimy and hard at the same time. I opened my mouth and blood dripped to the floor. The manager said something, I think he cursed. He turned toward the ticket guy who sat on a curb with his back facing us and said he had to go to death class. I saw something pink comming out of my mouth. Some piece of me. The piece was still attached inside my body so I couldn't just hauk it out. More blood, comming out faster, dripping all over the floors. The manager held me upside-down and I hung in the air, hovering a yard or two above the crowd and the manager. Blood dripping from my mouth onto the ground.

Elevator Meditation #03

The elevator was of some very old, very hard and very very expensive wood. Dorothy was with me, but she looked distorted. She looked nice and evil, she looked like herself and then someone else in the same body, all the at the time. She just kept changing every mila-second. Maybe I got on the wrong elevator. I've probably redid my entry into the elevator ten times, no change. I went down.
Level 6, the door opened and an anime girl with short dark blue hair and meloncholic expression flitted quickly toward me.
Level 5, passed and she went away, she couldn't get into the elevator.
Level 4 opened into the medical hallyway, same girl, except human and full of gore rushed quickly to me. I forced the door closed with violent concentration.
Level 1 opened. It was just as I've left it. Full of color, and happy, healthy people.
Level 0... The door opened and I saw a horrible distorted verison of Alfred that made me shut the elevator door and just stand there wondering what was happening.
Alfred looked like some transparent spirit swallowed him and gave him hideous and demonic deformities. The entire floor was as if someone blew a bunch of blurr bubbles of different sizes and shapes into the room. Books and paper from the books were all over the floor and was continuing to fly off the wall.
I opened the door again. The diaster was still there, and the only person who wasn't distorted was Roger Smith. He stood a little in front of the area of where the coffee table was, if there was a doorway of that area, he would be at the doorway.
After looking over the situation, I decided to bring in the vaccum. Alfred urgently stopped me saying that I couldn't use it here. I looked around and then blasted a bright illumination which abruptly flung all of the books and pages back together. Alfred and Dorothy lost their distortion.
I spoke to Roger at the coffee table. I don't remember what was said. I was hoping Dorothy was going to make me another tea, but the impression I got was what I've had should hold me off at least a week or a month if not longer and the effects are still comming in.

Elevator Meditation #02

The elevator was different. I didn't see Dorothy. I went down to level one and it opened to a very sketchy city. I stepped out. Filthy, everthing was filthy, sketchy and black. I walked passed some people, I couldn't see their faces because it was so sketchy and black. The air felt dirty, like it was a diease. There was a trash can to my right, it was nearly empty, but was so filthy even though there's hardly any trash.
To my right was million-miles-per-hour traffic. I ran across. I came to a sandwich restaurant. A fat man came out (walking to his car?), there was a sick swell of purple under his eyes. It was as if being a zombie was a disease and he just caught it.
I entered the building because I was curious about what would be on the menu or if I could even read it. People looked sick. I panicked a little, only a little. Everyone stopped and it was suddenly quiet. They all started at me in a violent manner. I panicked even more. Everyone rushed at me. A very gorey woman appeared before me and I opened my eyes cursing.

I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want to leave a mess like that, especially in my own mind.

I went back down the elevator, the doors opened at level one and they all reach to me. Gore. They couldn't come in the elevator and tear me to pieces. I took out a vaccum and vaccumed them. They all grew color and instantly became nice, happy people who looked healthy. I did this all over the areas I came to. The million-miles-per-hour traffic came to a steady speed.
I was at the restaurant when Roger came to the door of the place. I saw the look in his eye, saying that right now is a good time to get out of here, I took his arm to make it look causal, and we walked to the elevator. Dorthy greeted me, she was standing just outside the elevator. We went down to level zero and I don't remember so much. Dorothy made me a strange colored tea, the color was thick golden tea color with hues of very light brown with some undertone of very light hues of purple. The texture was very thick but it was also very thin. She told me she made it so it will benefit me in al areas. Roger gave me a large clear vial which he took the cap off of after I drank the tea quickly. The vial had golden speck in it, like the golden specks in Goldschlager, but bigger, thicker pieces. He told me to take it when I hesitated. I emptied it in my mouth, it felt like golden specks, heavy, scratchy. I swallowed.

Elevator Meditation #01

An elevator, all in black with white outlines. The number ten was above the door to the right, it was black in a white circle. Dorothy stood to my right. She said nothing. Going down...
9...
8...
7... Colors appeared, shaping the elevator.
6... Lucidity.
5... Dorothy is fades.
4... My mother appears at my right.
3... The walls turned to dull dim mirrors.
2... The mirrors were clear. Too clear. I saw myself, black combat boots, my usual clothes, hair oily as if I haven't showered in days (but I showered this morning).
1... The door opened. People in suits walking quickly in all directions. I'm not getting off here. I stepped back and forced the door closed.
I took it to zero.
The door openned. Alfred was to my left, cleanning something. The walls were shelves full of books going high up into the ceiling.
I went to the south wall and pulled out a book. It was brown and white. "Lolita" bible/cookbook (bible or cookbook was not it's name, but the impression of the name). I flipped through and saw an image of two cats facing me. I turnned the page and saw the two cats facing away froom me on the same page.
I couldn't read the words in the book. I tried hard. I could write it, but they weren't English. I went to contents page. The first page had "cattails", "bunnytails", second page was full titles like, "lolita bow", "lolita shoe". I sat down on a black couch, a coffee table was between this couch and another one seatter couch. Roger Smith sat down across from me. He asked me what I wanted to know...

A Glass Jar Filled With Violence

My mother opened the oven (it's broken but is always generating some small amount of heat) to put away a pan since we've been using it as a storage for pots and pans. She saw that I had kept a glass container with thick napkins and seeds in it along with miniature plant pots made of foil and dirt in the oven. She asked me what it was and I told her why I was doing that. She told me it was dry and said I don't know how to take care of anything. My insides felt like they've exploded, I'm not sure if she's right or not, but I've been taking very good care of my plants.

I was looking for an empty container for the watermelon that has sprouted itself to the top of the oven, I've only been gone for two days and I left with it showing no signs of growth under the napkins. My mother went into the downstairs restroom and I sank to the cold ground and just sat there trying to decide whether or not to throw everything in sight. I got up and punched the wall. I didn't want to make another hole so I punched it open handed. She always knows the right things to say to make me want smash my head open and pull my brain apart with the remaining moments of my life. I think I screamed, I don't remember. I walked upstairs and opened and closed the plastic drawers I've left at the top of the stairs. OPEN. CLOSE. OPEN. CLOSE. I did it fast and hard because if I didn't I would have made a mess that I wouldn't want to clean up later.

Footsteps, my mother was walking toward the stairs. I got up from the darkness and walked zombified into my sister's room. I sat cross legged on my bed made of blankets. I felt my mother come up from behind me. Did I tell you my family has the ability to appear from out of nowhere? She didn't say anything for a moment, then asked me if I fell or what was all that noise? I told her no, I didn't fall, I just got angry, that's all. She asked me why I was angry. I was incapable of speech at this time, so I just shook my head at her. She asked me again and again and told me how would she know what she did wrong if I didn't tell her. She shook me. I told her it was a little thing, and I didn't know why I got angry about something like that. She pulled me to my feet and accepted that I wasn't going to tell her. She said, okay, then leave it in the past, it's over. She hugged me and I cried.

Dead or Alive

I checked my pulse to see if I was still alive.

Nothing.

Just warmth to confuse me that I could be warm without a pulse or dead with physical warmth.

Misery (A Story of Miserable People in a Miserable Town)

Welcome to the town of miserable folk. Here you will find everything you've never wanted. Lumps in your bed, rare rashes on your skin and tongue, lifeless stares, your coffee will never taste as great as it presents itself to you, there will be an endless amount of bugs in your pockets and a curse of an enternal headache. This is the town of miserable folk, where it is always cold, no matter how many cups of boiling stale coffee you've had, pieces of clothing you wear or bottles of whiskey.

Found It

I know what I want now.

I want to go to art school. The thought of it had always frustrated me because of all the people I've met and seen that go or have gone to art school. They all think they understand how the world works. All of them do rip-off versions of other people's rip-offed versions of other people's ideas. They are all fucking blind (and not in a good way either!). They are all insecure and unstable with themselves but they still think they know everything. I don't want to be seen as one of those people! The chances of anyone in S.F. thinking the same thing when they see an art school kid is probably just a handful, but I can't help but think that everyone thinks that, even the people that go to art school.

What has held me back from going to an art school like I've wanted to when I had found out it exists, is the people, the cost and if I could get a job later after spending so much money and time it it. Now it doesn't fucking matter to me.

I've been drawing since I picked up the pencil. I've been writing since I got locked up in the mental hospital. I've been sculpting since I carved that creature out of wood in my Facilities Maintenance class at Jobcorp. I've been painting since I got my own watercolor set. There is not a day I don't write or draw something. I've been doing this my entire life and this is all I want to do.

I want to live in Pacifica. I'll drive to S.F. to work as a stripper so it'll pay for the ridiculously priced schooling. It's perfect, except for the stripping part. I'll be able to be by the ocean all the time and enjoy the fog that manifests itself daily. It'll be a quiet place, no overgrown teenagers screaming at each other, no children crying, no one to cringe at except at grocery stores.

The thought of this puts me at peace. I've never been happy about putting things together, I didn't think I could handle it. Ever since I was a kid I wasn't happy about getting my own place or winning a million dollars, I wouldn't be happy about it even if I wanted it. I'm used to things not going the way I want it to, I'm used to things going bad, so that's what I looked forward to... For everything to fall apart, even me.

Ocean, coffee, gaming, dreaming, astral projecting, learning, art school, shooting guns, publish books, paint and draw my astral travels and dreams, sculpt figures, parkour and circus training, publish my Serial Killer Romance novels and comic, mushrooms, and photography.

It sounds really good to me right now.

Running On Two Hours Of Sleep, Again

After eating a leftover chicken wrapped in foil with my bare hands and eating chicken-potato-wrapped-tortilla with jalapeno and cheese, I was inspired to start taking dandelion supplements. My grandpa is a herbalist, he owned a hospital before he moved to the States. Anyway, dandelions give you a detox everywhere, blood, skin, liver, they're really good for after you eat fast food. I was thinking about this because the chicken in the foil must have been weeks old if not months, I have no idea how old the chicken-potato-wraps are or how long the cheese has been sitting out here in this kitchen. I think I could really use one of my grandpa's dandelion extracts.

Since I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight, I've dedicated my time to making miniature polymer clay masks and finally reading Seeing With The Mind's Eye. This book has been bursting with good energy since I've seen it, maybe it's from all of those people that have become enlightened from this book or maybe it's just from the words written inside.

Very recently I've been doing things in dark I would get up in the middle of the night to get some water and I would do everything in the dark, walk down the stairs, through the hall, pour the water, drink the water, in the dark. It was strangely more comfortable and peaceful than when the lights are on. There was less "noise". Ever since I was a kid I've always been completely terrified of it. It wasn't until a month ago I could finally sleep with the lights off. The lights now, I've noticed, have been the cause of my sickness and my lack of motivation, it is what causes fatigue and my monstrous headaches.

I've also learned that I can not concentrate no matter how hard I try, around my laptop (even when it's closed). I tried reading a very interesting book today, but I could get a few words down and my mind would trail off. My laptop was closed, I had my book on top of it, but I couldn't focus. I was very calm too. I relocated myself to the couch, where I was able to read three pages before I had a strong urge to get up and do something before I forgot about it. Upstairs, in my room, I am able to finish books in one sitting. I would go away in it for hours and not even notice the words I'm reading or when I turn the pages. I lose this ability the closer I get to the laptop. I think the radioactivity that comes to and from it does something to my aura, to people's aura, maybe (besides the multi-tasking installing short-term memory into people brains) that's why people are so all over the place in the thoughts and words.

You Are Sweeter Than Vomit On An Empty Stomach

What I want to do:

• I want to write and direct movies.
• I want to be a mortician.
• I want to be a microbiologist.
• I want to be a marine biologist.
• I want to be a shaolin warrior.
• I want to be a marine.
• I want to be an amazing shibari artist.
• I want to be an amazing instant-holga photographer.
• I want to open a coffee shop that sells burgers, donuts, bakery, has a smoking and non-smoking room with waitresses on roller-blades and waiters in suits.
• I want to open a sex shop that sells coffee, bakery, has a dungeon in the back and movies after 8pm in a nifty room.
• I want to work with the blind.
• I want to be a great double-bass drummer.
• I want to have a honey factory.
• I want to publish my comics.
• I want to publish books for children.
• I want to publish books for the happily depressed.
• I want to play the cello.
• I want to be a body piercer.
• I want to master the art of quick shooting.
• I want to be the gunner with a superhuman accuracy.

What I'm qualified to do:

• Nude Model
• Shibari Artist
• Camgirl
• Stripper

I want to do more things than I am qualified for.

Acupressure of Some Sort

I'm currently wearing a 16g black surgical steel spike horseshoe in my right ear only, I was thinking that it was going to hold me back, inhibit or interfere some sort of energy flow, but there's also a chance it could do the opposite, just like wearing a ring on your pointer finger. As soon as I put it on I got a rush. At this moment in time I have more energy than I usually do. I feel like doing things instead of contemplating on whether or not to do it, talk myself out of it, or do it later. Not exactly impulsive, just more drive.