Why? Why This?

I had to leave work early one day this week since I was so tired I was actually sick. I tried to spruce myself up on break by having a cup tea with very little water and three cheap ass tea bags. That was a bad idea I guess since I was even more tired when I got back, and now I was nauseous and dizzy, let me tell you I did not feel good at all, felt like I was struggling to even stand there and you know the fucking players, shit they couldn’t even tell, I don’t really think so. The first they got a whiff of it was maybe when I got tapped out. My boss was sweet. I actually couldn’t even leave directly since I really had to sit down first, it was that bad. He asked me if I wanted to get checked out by the EMT’s we have in service there but I was like, “Oh God no.” He also asked me if there was anyone he could call, he was worried about me driving home, I was too, but all I could say was, “No, there isn’t anyone just my kids, but I’m the only one with the car.” So after a small rest I just sucked it up. I cashed out and drove home. Now I’m here, back to fucking writing, like this is the only thing I’m really good for anymore, and you know it’s strange, because I’m okay now, the writing somehow makes me come alive. Isn’t that strange?

I honestly think sometimes my job is killing me. It sucks the energy up and away the minute I enter the building. Sometimes it takes a little longer than that to feel it but tonight was actually an exception and I had a strange insight as well. It occurred to me that the character we play is what deadens us, there was some boisterous kid on my first table, talk talk talking, and what was he really doing though? He was drawing attention to himself. I guess he thought he was something, or he was trying really hard to make something up on the fly there. I wondered then, pretty hard. Basically I was seeing how the character we put on drains the life-force, and it dawned on me then, that’s why we die. It also explains how being in a dream, we can’t actually fucking dream. The identity gets in the way of everything. Shit, that was eye opening and also disturbing. It meant every time I was going there I was losing my life force, and source. Every time someone gets your attention, they’re actually sucking it out of you. It sounds crazy I know, and weird, but I don’t think I’m wrong. That’s the reason Jed in the books has to take a nap to recuperate whenever he’s been out and around people. Getting into any character, pretending to be anyone, is exhausting but not just because you think it is. It actually is. I don’t know if it’s energetic or what, but that’s what’s happening. Shit, no wonder humanity is fucking crazy, they are all fucking tired all the time. They can never rise up and over anything, the whole dynamic won’t let them. Damn, how have I even survived all these years the way I have?

Well, I did it for the kids. I had to provide for them, save them from the fucking insanity. Love can energize you. Maybe if you have enough of it and it’s pure, like what a mother has, you have some extra batteries. Mine might be starting to lose their charge, not because my love is fading, but because I am. That feels kind of sobering. What to do? Am I just screwed? No, that doesn’t seem right, something will show up I’m sure. It always does. Shit, don’t tell me I’m going to have to start a YouTube channel or something, Awakening by Sandra Anne, gross, I fucking hate youtube and I hate awakening channels even more. Why have a guru when you can figure it out for yourself? I don’t want anyone worshipping me, and I don’t do meditations. I only do annihilations but I don’t think that would really catch on, too scary. “Okay everyone, let’s practice this, pretend you’re near a cliff, close your eyes, and jump. Are you picturing that? What happens? Is there any sense of relaxation? No? Good, fuck relaxation, you’re already asleep, how much more relaxed do you want to get?” Yeah, they’d hate me in the first five minutes, probably say I’m insane.

Damn, maybe I’m just dying. This has actually crossed my mind before because let’s face it, what I do isn’t the easiest shit in the world. It’s not like I sit at a desk, no, I’m basically standing for most of the night except when I’m on break which is basically every two hours. Every hour and a half to two hours, I get a thirty minute break where I first walk to the bathroom, use the bathroom, wash my hands, because even if I don’t have to go to the bathroom, I still have to wash my hands. I’ve basically been in touch with chips that have passed through thousands upon thousands of different fingers, think of the energetic signature they must have, who knows right? Anyway then I walk to where I take my break and by then about ten minutes have passed, and that’s if I’m lucky, if I got tapped out on time, and all that. So by the time I’m sitting I’ve got about 15 minutes to have a drink, eat a snack, both of which I just carry in my purse, I don’t eat at work, and I only sometimes actually very rarely grab a cup of coffee, I usually have an energy drink in my locker, which was necessary, because my energy was being sucked away, I couldn’t really function without one. I didn’t have one of those tonight because one, we’re just out, and I was thinking of giving them up because who knows what’s in them, that sort of thing. Okay, well it takes five minutes to get back so that’s a wrap, I’m back either dealing cards or craps which is a non stop physical activity surrounded by life sucking characters. This can’t be good but my mind doesn’t know another way to make money, so yeah, it kind of seems like a problem, except there is no such thing, just shit happens. Maybe that’s all she wrote around here, or I’ll muddle through somehow, I’m guessing I’m not going out tomorrow or next month, I would hope I’ve got a few years left.

So yeah, I just was thinking probably I should take a little better care of this body. I don’t know if I can do that or not. I tend to run my shit into the ground, just I usually have a lot of energy. Sitting still isn’t something I do unless I’m writing and I don’t sleep well no matter what I do. I tend to wake up at least three to four times a night and then fall back asleep. Sometimes I’m up just to hit the bathroom and I’m back down and sometimes it’s more like an hour or two. I never know, it goes the way it goes there is all I can figure. I think you know it’s not exactly an easy way to go, to see that your entire belief system and sense of reality has been a fucking bullshit lie since the day you were born, yeah it tends to really throw you off your game because you’re basically walking around thinking something like, “Which fucking game am I in now and how does this one work?” You don’t really know, people who know have it much easier, because they just go with what they know and you don’t fucking have that anymore. No, all you’ve got is this shit is insane, that looks even crazier, and what’s the most practical thing to do right now, like shit needs to make some sense and you can’t find any sense anywhere else but in your own mind. So yeah, to top it all off I don’t actually eat all that much, I can go a whole day on a bowl of oatmeal with peanut butter. Now it makes more sense to me how I always need to eat more while I’m at work, my energy is being syphoned off and I’m having to replenish it faster than I usually have to. When I’m at home with the kids and dogs, I’m usually totally relaxed, just enjoying the show. I don’t have to be anyone because none of us are all that ego heavy. I’m loving, the kids are loving, and the dogs are definitely loving, they are some of the happiest animals I think I’ve ever been around probably because we like to love them so much, that’s what we do around here, we are constantly petting them, kissing their heads, rubbing their bellies and basically just admiring them all the time, like how cute are our fucking dogs? Do we have the most beautiful dogs in the world or what? Come here you beautiful thing, how amazing are you goes on all day long.

But we’re stuck too. We’ve been in this house and this town far too fucking long. One of my kids is breaking out. He got a job and he’s going to buy a car. He’s got the girl of his dreams, and he sees through the machinery at least to some degree. His job is easy, basically they just sit around all day. He’s getting paid by the hour to play his playstation remotely through his phone, priorities, he borrowed his brother’s old computer to set up a bot that will play his Madden team for him. I guess boys will be boys.

But this isn’t about my kids, not really, it’s just about the character I’m playing and why the fuck I’m playing it. What’s more, it’s not even about who the fuck I want to be, but what and who I was meant to be. The blueprints always get high jacked and we become these sad worn out versions of something, not even a human, a human being these days is a rather gross facsimile, how many times have I seen it by now? How many grown men, some well into their fifties, bitching, crying out in pain, lashing out in vain, over a fucking dice roll? I watch them out of the corner of my eye, not with distaste but with awe at how well the brainwashing has worked. I’ve seen thousands upon thousands of dollars washed up and swallowed by a few rolls of the dice, and I always wonder, what else might they have done with the money, where might they have gone, what experience might they have had? Some of them have enough money to go and do anything, so why the fuck do they come here and risk it on a game of chance, a game they almost never win? Well, it’s rare, and if there’s any evidence for winning, we can always go back to saying Vegas with all its gaudy decadence wasn’t born from winners. Sometimes in my delusion, I think they’re just coming to see me, like I’ve got something they want, just my calm, my fucking warmth, or maybe it’s my connection, this energy field that makes life mysterious, sort of like a vortex, are they coming to be transformed? Do they want what I have, what I’ve become inside? No, I don’t think so, they come but not for that. They don’t even know what that is. Shit, are they just bottom feeders? Are they actually real at all? Maybe they are the predators that Castaneda speaks of or the Kabbalist’s aptly call Amalek. Amalek is described as a people who instill doubt in the spiritual passion that pervades the universe. They lower the temperature of faith in life itself making it acceptable to feel indifferent, skeptical, and completely totally uninspired by it. Well, that fits, because nothing is more uninspiring than a night with all of them. It’s not even the wild ones that make me cringe, but the normal ones. Normality is disgusting to me on some level, it’s like I always stand there thinking, “Shit, how do you settle for this?” And “I could never.”

Great, every time I leave my house, I’m being surrounded by that? Well, let’s just be real here, who can you fucking talk to who doesn’t think life is just this toiling station, it works by making money, spending this money, and then making more, repeat, throw in a few sexual encounters, pop out a few kids, cook and clean, wash your car, pay your bills, be nice but not too nice, get close but not too close, think but not too much, and don’t actually do it, that would be dangerous? Yeah, that’s my question. How many? How about no one, not fucking one? You who read this probably belong to that crowd all except one. The one that wrote to me. I asked for a response, and she responded which is how you’re reading this and I’m still showing you this writing. Also, I just figure you know what, this is my world, I might as well do what I like in it as much as I can and this is what I like.

If you think you can wake up in a group, I’d say no, it isn’t possible. The only way is out here on the edge of zero, where no one and nothing exists the way you think it does, not your spouse, not your kids, not fucking anything. Only a real teacher will tell you that, but don’t listen to me, I’m not a real teacher. I’m just someone who fucking went. That last post was just putting out feelers to see if there was anyone else out there, and I still don’t know. I discovered that my contact form didn’t even work, my friend told me that but I got my email on it now so if you have the guts maybe let me know what you’re doing about your own predicament.

If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that once the movement starts, you’re not ending it. There’s nothing you can do to break, or even brace the falling. The ego doesn’t go willing, but once a certain threshold is reached, its chance of survival is zero. That’s what the actual power of seeing can do because once you’ve seen it, you know, and knowing is a million times more powerful than just learning something. Probably the craziest thing of all, is eventually you also have to risk your body, in some strange way you almost have to abandon it, you don’t inhabit it in the same way you did before. All one’s fears about the body itself also have to be encountered and faced, because you’re not that. The body itself is just a projection. I’d say you’re only temporarily aware of having one. The body is also a shell just like the identity is, but it can fall away too. You think you’re aware of being in your body all the time, but you aren’t really in it. Just like anything else around here, the body is a mind manufactured phenomena. If you read my post about how I had a biopsy done by a dermatologist from this spot on my forehead, how she basically implied it might be cancer, guess what? I never heard back from them, like yeah, they never contacted me with any results and I left it as that. No news is always good news if you ask me, because once you think you know something, anything really, it’s a hundred times harder to un-know it. Learning is easy, to forget what you learned, to remove any trace of a false truth, is a lot more difficult. Oh, the spot healed up, I can see where it was, but it’s no longer doing anything, just sitting there kind of like a shadowy pink round natural “bindi”. Same place exactly. The bindi they say is the third eye. It’s a doorway to wisdom, focus, and connection to the other realm, perhaps the one we actually live in if only we were always experiencing it. I’m guessing weirder things have happened, maybe I was Hindu in another life who knows?

I think I’ve got some problems here, the same old shit, it’s always around money, and one theme, there’s not enough. Of course, that was really what I felt was my last hurdle, if only I could imagine some other situation, maybe one where I didn’t have to keep working, not riches, not obscene wealth, just any situation where my time was my own and I could live in relative comfort. I’ve never asked or desired anything fancy, although I’ll take that if it’s coming, not going to shun it, that’d just be stupid. So yeah, part of the reason is the electric bill is so high, and honestly I notice, I’ll pay on some credit card a hundred or a couple hundred, then I won’t even use it and I ‘ll get a notice I’m over my limit. I don’t even know what’s happened there, but I can’t pay them down. I’m basically just bleeding money at this point, but you see, am I? Is this an illusion or isn’t it? It must be my own mind that’s doing all this, there is no other way. You can wonder all you want about the global economy, or the economy of your own country, the rising prices of gas, and groceries, hell my mortgage went from $900 a month when I first bought the house to $1350 and some of that, at least a couple hundred bucks was pretty recent and then there was the outrageous car repair bill that I had to take a loan out to even have them fix it, all that stuff seems real but I still know it is in my own circuitry. Not what I am, just the circuitry of the illusion that creates a dream for me to live in. It’s especially easy to feel like some sort of failure when you get this type of shit going on, why weren’t you better or smarter with money? You should have known better or saved something, but yeah, I didn’t. That’s not how it went. In our current reality, the one we learn this is a personal fucking failure. Does anyone say it isn’t? Nobody gets this part, the one that tells you that you’re not the doer so you didn’t actually do it. Yes, you might be living through it because that’s how your mind is dreaming, but it isn’t actually there. It also doesn’t mean that collectively we are all hallucinating the same things but do I really know what kind of prices someone else is paying when I go to the store? When I see a lb of coffee, the cheapest brand is around $7, do I actually know that’s what the person next to me is seeing and paying? Maybe they are, but maybe they aren’t. It seems like an across the board thing right? Let me just say it, to live from the fear based ego is to be in a sort of hell if you care at all what it’s doing. Go back to the Jed books if you think you can always bypass the shit just because you think or are awake. Remember him getting picked up by the Mexican police for telling some hotel clerk woman who was complaining about the heat that she wouldn’t be saying that if she was dead. Did he plan on saying it? Did he have any idea what would follow just because of a tiny slip of the tongue that didn’t mean any harm? When they carted him off, he knew they might actually take him out into the desert and kill him, why does he write that? Because he had no way of knowing what the next moment might hold for him, and he was okay with it. It didn’t happen, instead they threw him over the border into America without his belongings, no credit card, no nothing. And I imagine if the story is real which it probably isn’t, he’d have just started walking happy to still be alive.

It’s good to be alive isn’t it? What if you weren’t? What if you were already gone? Then what? We just have to see right, there’s no way of knowing, but my point is this life is for living now. I was reminded that when you do these vanishing exercises, there’s sometimes a period of time when since you’ve actually brought some issue up and focused on it, immediately afterwards it can actually intensify and get worse. Why because you focused on it, yes you bring it up to release it or dissolve it but part of that process is facing it too, and what better way to face something than to be face to face with it as if it was really happening? Tips at work went down last week, and this week was even worse so that's great. I don't even know now whether there will be enough, it could actually happen that there's not which is kind of weird since that's never happened before so maybe I shouldn't be forecasting. Fucking mind just does that automatically, it's like, "Some where in there, you're going to need to have a really big tip night", and then I go to work and it's worse than even a bad night. So fucking strange how a mind can fucking do that, like shit, can I just survive? Well, maybe not. I guess that's an answer too.

When I saw one night how we are able to witness ourselves, usually called being the witness of our thoughts or standing outside ourselves looking in, it changed me but the reason we can do this is because what I saw was that our operating system which looked to me like billions of entangled lit up strands that formed a type of bundle was actually off to the left and slightly behind a person's body. And from this entangled mass of what I've later discerned is information laden awareness our own body and life are projected. Well, I saw it for like 30 seconds, but my life changed that night, everything changed but it doesn't get blissful all the time, what happens is it turns inward on itself and then basically your mind starts systematically going through those strands to determine what is false and what isn’t which is just all your beliefs. So I must be on one of those fucking strands right now, who knows I think we just slip around in there. Whatever I’m going through now will disappear. The trick is not to resist what it brings up for you to feel or experience even better if you just enter whatever that is, that is the only way to dissolve what’s ailing you. Some configurations are slightly easier than others, but no one gets out without facing whatever you got in there. One thing I know is I’m not willing to compromise. I’m not going to say, “Oh, no worries, I’ll just stay with this or how it is”, no I’m going to keep fighting the fucking darkness. I’ll learn eventually whatever I really need to know to handle all this. It never disappoints when you keep at it, you just keep fucking hammering away. That’s what the writing is also for. It’s like a regurgitation tool.

I just had the thought that I’m going to stop talking at my job. The minute you ask anyone how they are you open yourself up to a conversation you don’t want to have. Last night I had some guy, obviously pretty wealthy, not hurting at all, older gentleman probably fifties just whining over losing a few hands, and you know what I hate? I fucking hate it when they use my name, “Sandra why are you doing this to me?” It really takes some nerve to be like this, like do I fucking know you? We’re not on a name by name basis in my book because right now I don’t give a fuck who you think you are and I probably never will. I always just suffer in silence then because I just want to scream then, “Here’s an idea, why don’t you shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes? Just five, any takers? Any chance of this happening?” Shit, it just can’t get any stupider than that, since dude, you’re the one who cut the fucking cards, this isn’t my dream it’s yours. I think you’d be a lot luckier if you could just shut your mouth for a few minutes. It’s your resistance to losing that makes you keep losing but they are too lost to know that. As soon as you enter the arena of the casino, the whole dream has its own momentum. My mistake was that I used to take it personally, I used to think being nice could change the outcome but it doesn’t. It’s really just a form of your own suffering to think you’ve got some personal influence in what’s going down but you don’t. Yes, to some degree your state of awareness can dictate how you internalize the bullshit all around you, but that’s about it. If you resist it or start suffering by what you perceive is someone else’s doing, you’re just lost again. The way the whole world thinks this works has basically sucked you back over to its side of the equation which is not where you want to be. Hell no, you’re trying to escape its fucking clutches.

Of course, the very fact that you’re in a position where you can’t speak frankly with people for fear of offending them, and I’m absolutely sure I would be offensive is a great case for silence. There you are, you know there’s not a chance in hell that anyone you’re encountering will understand even one word of any actual conversation you might have, maybe something actually worth talking about like, “What the fuck is either of us actually doing here? This is stupid as fuck.” Of course, my reason for being there is maybe the dumbest one, what is it? I want to survive. I want to eat or live above the homelessness line and I’m too dumb to find anything else to do? i mean I’m seriously just as good at calling out my own bullshit these days,

To end this one, I don’t really think that anyone actually understands or comprehends the amount of bullshit they will be tasked with uncovering and dispersing. We can talk all we want about just quieting the mind completely but then what? Has it actually changed anything or have you just convinced yourself it has because you’re now perceiving your circumstances in a new light, one that doesn’t bother you as much? Either way has anything actually changed? The only real question to ever ask yourself is this one: Are you free? Are you completely and irreversibly free of all influence, worldly mandates, and anything else that binds you the fuck up? If the answer is no, it doesn’t mean you’re not awake, and any how who the fuck even cares about some arbitrary stupid distinction? Probably just those who have somehow located themselves in the spiritual enlightenment world movement which isn’t much a fucking movement since everyone just spaces out, and keeps living their life in the same ways they always did. Is that change if your mind just accepts it more? Does it just amount to something like, “Oh, well at least I’ll die peacefully now”? Fuck, I mean really why care about how you’ll die, isn’t the real question how you lived while you were here, while you were still alive?

I heard a song for this one. My daughter was playing it in the car and I was like, "Oh, yeah, that's the one, well there it is." That AI picture strangely enough actually looks like, just younger, shit how weird is that? I'm not even sure anymore. I'm going to talk about some really strange shit in my next post, just wait for that I guess.