Loops

This is just going to be more of the same. Nothing has changed. 

The only new thing that happened to me was getting invited to stay with Bruce Macdonald for a month in Costa Rica.

But I have no money to go there and no passport.

I'm completely dependent on my mother. 

I resent this life. Every day is the same. Stuck in this trap, these loops of the same thing over and over.

The pain is compounded whenever I look back to how it was when I had my own home. My own privacy. My peace of mind. Sanity. Money. 

I came so close to realizing my goal. By minutes. I was minutes away from financial freedom and getting out of Canada to go elsewhere.

How can anyone... recover from this situation? It's unique. Turned about $30,000 into $200,000 and managed to lose it because the stock market closed before I could put the sell orders through and the next day it dropped to $170,000 which flipped a switch in  my mind and for some reason, I didn't sell. The next day was $140,000 and that is when I started becoming despondent.

And the messed up thing about all this is ... it felt like I was being guided. I couldn't have been more alive and more aware and in tune with my spirit than at that time. And I pre-emptively thanked God for getting me up to $200,000.

But...

I guess I messed it all up. So bad, that months later I lose my appetite and somehow end up going on a road trip with two of my passports that I eventually lost along the way. And that's just part of what's happened during that time.

Now, I'd have to re-apply to get a passport. 

But I'm so tired of all this.

Every day. Every day I tell myself that I want to go home. Home for me is either to be with God in the spirit and leave this life behind, or home meaning someplace where I belong and feel safe and able to connect with my spirit again.

I'm exhausted living with my mother. I resent her charity. She has enough money to be comfortable. Almost a hundred grand. She doesn't worry about a thing. She'll toss twenty dollars at me and say to go get dinner.

I resent it.

I've no independence left. No pride. No dignity. No peace of mind or privacy or anything.

I have nothing left.

Even if I did went to see Bruce and spent a month with him in Costa Rica, I'll still have to come back here.

To this shit place.

And I'll be angry about calling it that. This place is shit. Mold in the basement that sent me to the emergency room twice already. Weird smells caused by my mother. A lack of cleanliness in the kitchen because my mother doesn't use dish soap and makes a mess with food stains on the fridge handles, light switches, handrails on the stairs.

I resent this place so much.

Sitting outside listening to the loud traffic. Squawking of crows. People looking down at me from the apartment across from us.

And all I can do is stare at my damn phone. Soaking in all the horrible news about what I was preparing myself against more than four years ago in 2020.

I can't believe it's been four years already.

And I'm stuck here.

There's no point in getting a job. Assuming if I can even get one, and still have to come to this bullshit townhouse I'm in. With my mother.

I'm so fucking tired, God.

I have so much potential.

And it's been suppressed.

Squashed.

Can't do anything but stare at the damn phone and watch videos all day or play games.

What a waste of a life. 

I came so close. I didn't want any of this. I wanted to write. I wanted to see new people and see new things. Start my own life. Live my own life.

On my own terms. 

Own my own home. I don't care if it would've been a shack if it was in Ecuador and I had my own water well and fruit trees.

I just want to see the clear night sky. No airplanes or helicopters or chemtrails.

Stars. Bright and twinkling and constellations.

Can't do any of that here.

I'm done with all this. I really am. Dead man walking.

If I managed to get to Costa Rica, I'm going to cry the day before I have to leave and come back.

I wonder what it would be like if I just ran into the jungle and hid. But that wouldn't work. Can't survive for long. Don't even know Spanish enough to communicate with the locals. Not going to be able to pay off a cell phone bill. Can't guarantee I'd find water or food. Can't charge my fucking hearing aids because I'd be almost deaf without them. 

Constantly scratching my head right now. This place has some bad stuff in the air. My mother doesn't notice it of course. She's ignorant of these things. Can't even smell the weird sewer smell in the washroom that is absolutely repugnant and I know that I am not imagining it.

What a waste of a life. 

I give up on this.

I believe in miracles, but will a miracle happen to me?

Because I need at least $200,000 to get out of here for good. $500,000 would be optimal. 

Anything over $500,000 is going to be for other people and not for me.

I know that I am a good person who's made mistakes. I resent the choices I've made with some of the women I've dated and upon reflection, I understand why I made those decisions. There wasn't any other way but to go through the motions.

I know better now, but it's useless knowledge when I am stuck in this trap I'm unable to get out of.

I used to pride myself on finding creative solutions for complex problems but this one is beyond my means.

No credit. No money. No passport. No job. No friends. Family are all vaccinated and ignorant as to what is going on. Except for three.

No intellectual or spiritual stimulation in this place. Just the opposite.

I am being treated like a child. Almost 50 years old and my mother treats me like an idiot.

And I keep thinking about what would happen if I was able to sell those shares in time before the market closed. Would've looked like a genius to everyone if I did. $200,000 in the bank? I would've been out of debt and not have to file for bankruptcy.

Could've gone to Mexico to meet Jeff Berwick.

Who knows, maybe we would've gotten along well.

Maybe I'd have moved to Ecuador or Nicaragua or Mexico.

Who knows.

Thinking about the what-ifs is about the only thing that gives  me a tiny measure of joy in my life. Dreaming of that alternate reality that I was so close to living in.

But now, it's all gone to shit.

This is... not worth living.

In loops. In cycles. 

In the middle of the economic collapse surrounded by ignorant people who don't see any problems or know how serious those problems are. 

People that laugh and smile who still trust the government and doctors and believe in institutions.

They are morons. Four years after covid and they still think voting matters. Trump or Pierre is going to save us.

I'm tired of all this. 

I just want to be in a grassy field on a warm night looking up at stars in the sky.

In Ecuador or Costa Rica.

I don't want to live in Canada any longer.

It's finished.

I'm finished.

Insane Asylum

Every day. Every day I realize what a loony bin I am living in.

This crazy, clueless city that mindlessly celebrates hockey, flies rainbow flags, filled with more migrants than Canadians and migrants dressed in nicer clothes with nicer cars; this city with all of the increasing homeless population being white. This crazy city with weird women with multicolored hair, too much makeup and overpainted nails -- all thinking they are better than men.

15 minute city announced months ago, nobody cares. Doesn't seem like anyone knows what it is even. My mother certainly doesn't.

And doesn't care when I try to explain it to her. Can't see the big picture.

She drove me crazy today like she does most days. To any outsider who only knows my mother from brief interactions, might think she's very nice and cheerful and full of positive energy. Which she is, most of the time I admit, but living with her, interacting with her for more than a few hours and being her child, really is different than anyone will ever come to understand.

It is hard to put it into words but I'll give it a try as to why she is driving me up the wall and is killing my soul with some kind of supernatural skill that she either doesn't realize she's using or... something else I can't put my finger on.

Maybe describing "moments" will be better in painting a picture of what she is like living with.

One moment today was her asking me when are we going to pick up my car from the dealership and if it wasn't getting too late. I said the dealership is open until 530pm and it won't take long to get there. 

So I go to the bathroom, do my stuff and get out at 430pm. Come downstairs where she asks, "what time does the dealership close at? 6?"

...I already had told her 530 was when it closed. I was only in the bathroom a half an hour. I know she heard that I said 530 before, so did she just forget the time? 

Second moment was listening to her in the car on the way there. I can't even remember exactly all the things she said because they were so forgettable. Everything she says is bland. There's no sharpness in her observation. She states the obvious. It's like listening to a parent tell their three year old child "look! a tree!" while driving to the grocery store. Yes, it's a tree... and? What am I supposed to say about that? 

Third moment was her driving. She's... There was this car in front of us that slowed down so it could turn into the lane on our right-side. It signaled, paused briefly and then turned. My mother aggressively waved her hands in the air all impatient for the two seconds that car in front of us slowed down. And not only was the hand-waving/anger not justified, but she then herself TURNS into the right lane as well even though we were supposed to stay in the left lane for an upcoming left turn. Does that make any sense? Even she admitted out loud that it was a mistake. I couldn't say a word in response. What am I supposed to say? "Do you know how to drive? What is wrong with you?" ... So I said nothing.

At the dealership my mother... sighs.. starts loading up on the free tea bags they have there. Stuffing them into her purse. Just like she did last time. I guess that's not the worst thing but it still rubs me the wrong way. Especially when she loudly complains about the service.

Outside she starts talking about getting me Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner. I don't like KFC. I've told her this many many times. It's too greasy. It doesn't taste as good as it used to. Nandos has the best chicken. Mary Brown has better chicken. 

But it's like she can't ever remember these things. 

I've never liked pickles or liver/onions but she will act like it's new to her whenever I say that I don't like something, despite saying it for years on end. Multiple times.

Another moment today was seeing all the exposed food in the kitchen. Watermelon, apple, blueberries, strawberries. Just sitting out in the open. Why is this bad? Because bugs were crawling over the Watermelon and the half-eaten apple, both of which have been sitting out there for at least two days.

Think about how that makes me feel. I can't stand having bugs crawling over my food or having bugs at all inside the home. My mother doesn't care. It doesn't matter how many times I bring this up. She just keeps doing it over and over and when the bugs obviously ARE bad, she "promises" she'll never do it again. But she never keeps her promises, and still will eat half a banana and leave it on the table for two days or longer. 

I don't mean to sound entitled or spoiled or OCD or whatever the word would be, but my mother is not a normal human being.

Another moment today was asking me to how to spell the word "attic" ... 

ATTIC.

I couldn't believe it. I told her to sound it out for herself. AT-TIC. AT-TIC and she still couldn't figure it out. She started spelling ADDICT, instead. 

Not only was this shocking to me but her excuse was that she's not from Canada, that she's from Poland. Which ... frustrates me as an excuse because she arrived here over 40 years ago and can't spell attic. Not only that, but I saw her reading an email from the condo association where it clearly says ATTIC and I know she read that word because she informed me about how they are doing inspections for mold in people's attics. IT SAID SO IN THE EMAIL. ATTIC. She read that email twice at least!

How can you not spell attic? My stepfather is similar. Neither of those two read books or engage themselves in higher learning. They don't care.

Add up all of these moments and squeeze them into a six or seven hour period and you'll understand why I spend so much time alone by myself in my car at the park. Away from this crazy person who happens to be my mother. I can't love her at a distance. I'm forced to interact with her on a daily basis.

The crazy just isn't obvious to an outsider until they live with my mother.

How about the towels with disgusting brown stains on them hanging in the bathroom for more than two months? You can clearly see the huge stains on them. She doesn't care. Won't wash it. Also destroyed my favourite towels by using them on people when she dyes their hair. Ruining the nice towels while keeping the ugly ones hanging up on the hook.

I don't think I can adequately describe all the ways she makes me crazy. The way she guilt-trips me is a masterclass for anyone looking to destroy someone's dignity. I still remember the scolding she gave me for not eating something that I did NOT WANT to begin with but she forced on me anyways. "OH YOU DIDNT EAT MY CREPES" when I didn't WANT crepes and wasn't hungry. She's lived with me for a year and knows that I eat one meal at night. That's it. But still. Guilt trips. She's a master.

It's like her memory is so selective. The important stuff gets forgotten about but the unimportant things like, "oh (ex-girlfriend) once told me you are spoiled!" somehow is magically remembered and not only that -- I don't remember it being said at all, and I have a pretty good memory. Definitely better than hers.

It took 42 years of being alive before she decides to tell me that my dad was married before meeting her. I don't even know how the hell was that kept a secret. He didn't say anything about that to me. But my mother was adamant this was true and that she saw a picture of the woman. My dad described his escape from the Czech Republic to me numerous times and never included this woman in his story. Either my mom is lying or my dad was deliberately hiding it from me and everyone else.

Convenient that she tells me about his wife after he's dead. Not one mention of it ever until three or four years ago.

And the burping sounds and loud yawning noises and throwing bones and scraps of food outside for the loud crows to eat and the mice which she complains about but... 

I can't properly put it all into words what an insane asylum this is. Whenever I lash out against it, I get guilt tripped into not being able to control my emotions. 

It's madness.

`Looks like I've really screwed up my life by losing my home and having to move in with her.

I can't mentally build myself back up living in this environment. 

Another moment today was trying to have a quiet time outside in the yard but the large apartment building across from me has an equally insane man on a high balcony who likes to sit there smoking without a shirt on and talking loudly to someone inside his apartment or on the phone while watching me down below. There's branches of a tree that reaches up high enough to block most of his balcony from view, but he manages to put his chair in exactly the right spot in the middle so he can stare down at me. 

Oh, and there's two rainbow flags I have to look at. One on a balcony that flaps in the wind and one that hangs in the window of another apartment.

This place is fucked.

I cry almost every day over it.

What am I suppose to do? Getting a job isn't going to solve anything. Still have to live with my mother.

Think I can save up enough money to move outside of the country in under a year? No.

Think I can afford my own place to live? Not with rent the way it is these days. And groceries. And gas. And insurance. And every other expense.

Open-air prison camp is what this place is. This country.

And nobody cares. My mother is all surprised at why we have such long waiting times for doctors and why we don't have enough doctors. Can't figure out that it's all from immigration taking more and more of our services. And doctors that are retiring/leaving the country. They're not bringing in immigrants who have a useful education or skill.

My mother is constantly complaining about different things and I keep telling her the same reasons for all of it. Why are food prices going up? Why are taxes going up? Why this, why that? And she can't seem to engage her own brain in any of the explanations involved. Doesn't agree with me when I tell her that it would've been better to leave the country to retire in a cheaper one. She left Poland for this place and now this place is shit. But she won't ever go back to Poland. Too traumatized by her growing up on a farm there. Doesn't make any sense.

I don't mean to use this post to complain about my mother but I have no where else to blow off steam. This isn't for anyone but myself to read. I don't share my blog and I'm not sure I ever will.

Maybe. Maybe if I know that my death is imminent I'll invite a relative or two to look at it.

I'm too exhausted to even care. My life is shit. That is just how it is.

I can't renew myself. I get beaten down every day. Living in this city among all this noise and all these immigrants speaking in their own language and the homelessness and the litter and the constant interruptions and traffic and poor infrastructure...

I hate this place. It's not how it was.

It's nothing like it was.

And I knew I wasn't going to live out my last days here. I prepared. Had my suitcases packed. Mexico or Nicaragua, I wasn't sure which.

And then I lost it all.

Now I am realizing the worst possible outcome. Living in THIS city with MY mother and NOT having any money to get myself out of it. Complete dependency on a lunatic.

I don't have any options at the moment. Can't survive a Canadian winter outside in a tent. Can't get my own place. Can't leave the country.

Unless I save up enough money to fly to Ecuador to find an abandoned spot in the rainforest and hunker myself down to not ever come back. They won't find me. I'll have to be responsible for all of my needs, including food, water and health. Basically forage for survival. Not going to be able to use a cell phone either if I can't pay for the bill each month and don't want to be tracked.

Can't speak the language well enough either. I'll be the weird gringo living in the Amazon. If I get malaria or some serious illness, I might as well kiss everything goodbye. No insurance, no money, no vehicle, nothing.

Is that an option? I wonder.

I just want to die under the stars. Outside in the open. Among the trees on a grassy field. Fresh air. Maybe little fireflies dancing in the night.

If I can't continue to live like this, why am I still living like this?

This place is hell.

If I keep this up, there's no reason to stay alive with an existence like this. Living in a 15 minute prison camp city with a social credit score that has been decimated by my bankruptcy and having to compete with immigrants for jobs where they openly advertise for non-white applicants.

Fuck this country. 

Love the geography. Hate the system. Hate the people that are fooled by the system. The ones that jabbed themselves up without any critical thinking involved. The ones that care more about the Oilers than getting themselves the fuck out of the collapse of the western empire.

Why does my aunt and uncle who are awake, STILL have a million dollar home in Kelowna with all the homelessness and crime getting worse and worse? Why not sell? Why not move to Mexico with that money? 

Fuck this place.

I cry every day like I said. I often pray and try to speak to God or to my spirit but it's just the same thing every time. Every time I get silence.

Nothing cares about my tears or how heartfelt my words are.

Nothing answers when I call upon Jesus, Yeshua, my higher-self, my guardian angel, the holy spirit.

I've learned a lot of unpleasant things in the last few years about spirituality.

Wish I would've known all this four or five years ago.

I'd give anything to be out of Canada.

Anything.

I'd give anything to be connected to my spirit like I once was.

Anything.

To be in communion with the divine again,.

Anything.

To have my independence back.

Anything.

To have at least $500,000 in the bank right now so that I can leave and buy a home in Ecuador or Costa Rica.

Anything.

But I don't have much to offer. My soul... belongs to whatever serves the highest virtues. Love, truth, beauty, compassion, justice, prosperity and freedom. Whatever entity serves those virtues, is what my soul belongs to.

If the devil is the ruler of this material realm and can grant me those things... well, what's the price?

What does it really mean to sell one's soul? To really do *anything* in exchange for something that they want?

In my case, I'm willing to surrender for a more nobler purpose. My soul can be conscripted to serve a higher purpose.

But I will not sell my soul under the condition of having to be eternally bound to this mortal realm and to do the bidding of the evil forces that rule over it.

I don't care if this is a movie and we're all actors in a play.

I'd rather not be on stage at all. 

Don't want to be in the audience either.

I want to be in my own realm. Be my own God. 

Create my own creations. Live my own life. Invite others of like-mind to join me if they wish.

I realize it's more complicated than that. Being a God and creating a perfect realm... well, there's all sorts of challenges and problems that comes with that idea.

For instance, if I was God, how would I experience true love? If my creations are with a soul, then they have free will and cannot be compelled to love me. If they are without a soul or free-will, what value would their "love" have for me at all?

That's one problem.  Another would be to realize that as a God, I wouldn't have anyone else on equal footing to my own. Could I find love and comfort in another entity that is so far beneath my own intelligence and perception and appreciation of all things?

Like my mother for instance. Could I love someone like her if she was my wife and kept saying the most shallow and superficial of things? Offering no intellectual or emotional stimulation? No real connection?

I tell you, I came close to crying twice while with my mother today. Fought it back twice once I recognized the onset of a particular emotion coming over me. That feeling of being trapped in hell with no way out. And your only company is a deranged inmate who doesn't realize they are in hell and actually thinks you are the crazy one for thinking otherwise.

See how messed up my situation is? My own mother.

Can't accept my own mother.

I'm calling her deranged and ... I don't feel loved by her.

Does she offer monetary support? yeah... sure... yes she does.

But she never could buy me a gift that I know I would like. All those years, she would ask what I want for my birthday or Christmas. Couldn't figure it out on her own what I would like. I often try to give her subtle hints but... 

Anyways that's not love. Love is acceptance. Maybe she does accept me but she also enjoys suppressing me. 

I'm too tired to get into that right now. Another long story for another day.

What else do you expect from someone who is happy when you announce to them that you're filing for bankruptcy?

Yeah... explain that one.

Bunch of lunatics in this place. In my own family.

No wonder I wanted to leave. No wonder I kept quiet as much as I could about the money I was making on the stock market and the risks I was taking. The two passports I got. My researching into which country to go to. Figuring out what to do about my home, whether I should sell it or rent it but unable to do either because its in my mother's name despite my having made the payments on it for over ten years.

I just wanted to get away from all this. I knew this country was going to suffer a bad fate.

And now it looks like I'm going to experience the suffering I worked so hard in avoiding.

All that preparation was a waste.

I have almost nothing now.

Not even my dignity.

I'm tired, God.

Yeshua.

Holy Spirit.

Mary.

Allah.

Ahura Mazda.

Archangel Michael.

Yahweh.

Satan.

Lucifer.

Moloch.

Saturn.

Jupiter.

Sun. Moon.

Apollo. Zeus.. 

I'm so bloody tired.

And I didn't even discuss what happened to me yesterday. Another emergency procedure to drain a bacterial infection. Third time so far. That's how filthy this place is.

Handle on the fridge is sticky. It's always sticky.

Light switches have grime smeared on them. 

Don't touch the handrails on the stairs. I always extend my sleeves out of a long-sleeved shirt to cover my palm as I walk down.

Place is a dump. Someone was playing loud music at 4am last night. Bassy techno. 

I don't belong here. Don't want to be here.

I'll do anything.

$500,000 is the perfect amount. Close to $350,000 USD after conversion.

I can find a peaceful place to live, rent-free, with everything I'd need and pretty much retire.

I'm so tired, God.

So tired of all this.

What are you gaining from watching through my eyes? Through my tears?

I am not moving forward.

Every day is the same thing.

What's the point of all this.

I refuse to be a slave to the beast system. So what's the alternative?

What can I do to get $500,000 or more into my bank account by the end of November 2024?

Because I don't think I can go another winter like this.

Stuck inside with my mother.

No money. No other place to go.

What's the point of this kind of life, God?

Why bother with any of it.

You tell me.

I'm waiting for an answer.

 

Circles

As the title says, I've been going around in circles.

Never have I talked with God so much. The Creator, the Collective Unconscious, the Infinite I, the Controller, the Maker and Master of the Universes.

The Holy Spirit. Jesus. Yeshua.

I've invoked their names innumerable times in the past year.

No response, it seems.

When I think about it. It seems that connection to God I used to love so much is very particular. It has to be cultivated and not necessarily through prayer and meditation. But daydreaming. Listening to music. Being creative. Being out in nature. Talking to people and having good conversations.

The connection is most evident when one is evidently connected. When one admires beauty and feels alive is ironically when the connection is strongest.

So how does one who has reached spiritual exhaustion build themselves up to the point of feeling that way again?

It is such a catch-22.

I was listening to Bruce Macdonald earlier on his podcast where he discussed a woman named Cat who was part of a Satanic cult. Her story was disheartening. Abused and used and her description of how the Satanists take "souls" from people was... well, it made me both sad and angry.

Yet, she managed to get her way out of that upbringing and Bruce compared her effort to that of a miracle. Saying it was a feat on par with walking up Mount Everest without an oxygen tank.

But she is still quite broken and lives off of disability for PTSD caused by such a life.

And... the miracle didn't manifest for her in the way that I think she deserves it to. A restoration of her soul, a job, a purpose that gives her dignity. Well... I guess her purpose is to tell her story to others. As terrible as it was.

I'm tired. I've prayed so much that I've skipped the ritualistic words of the Lord's Prayer and started talking out loud. Building my relationship with the Creator that way instead. Directly, vocally and with emotion and tears.

Sometimes I try to express gratitude for certain things but its still hard. Coming from what I had to what I have now.

Almost nothing. 

If the lesson was to teach me not to be materialistic and hedonistic and arrogant and selfish. Well, that's all been learned.

I don't care anymore for this place. I would feel differently if I could live somewhere independently on my own patch of land with a water well and peace and quiet and animals and insects and birds and sunrises and stars at night.

I came so close to having those things. I can't stop thinking about how close I've come. 

$200,000 but couldn't sell my stocks in time. Market closed minutes after I saw that amount in my portfolio.

I'm so tired of all this. I've never gone through such a crisis before in life. No fuel in my tank. Too many... things around me that suck energy out.

Including my damn phone.

I miss how it all once was. Where I didn't need a phone to distract myself all day with. Where I could watch a movie, listen to music, take a bath with a book, go for a walk, do some cooking, cleaning, organizing, visiting thrift stores, health food stores, grocery shopping. Landscaping my yard.

Writing.

There were so many options. I could stand barefoot outside in the grass. Grow fruit and vegetables. 

Or a marijuana plant if I wanted to.

Getting high in my bedroom after a warm bath to look up at the ceiling with a star light projector and listening to good music was heaven to me.

In the comfortable bed and privacy I once enjoyed.

I feel so terrible these days. I know this is a spiritual war and I know I should be working on myself to reach and express the fullest of my potential.

But I can't. I'm stuck in a negative feedback loop. There's no escaping this.

Without a miracle.

And... miracles... come from strange sources.

I don't know how and when they come, but they do. I've witnessed some.

Nothing dramatic, but they do happen.

And... I think it had a lot to do with the mental state I was in. How spiritually connected I once was.

And no longer am.

It is hard to connect when one cannot nurture this connection.

There are important variables involved. Two of them is having privacy and peace of mind.

Stability is another.

I feel so tired writing all this. My eyes are... wanting to pull away from staring at the screen. 

Thinking that my words are ultimately meaningless.

And I ponder how long can this go for.

Because it doesn't look like anything is going to happen that will help get me out of all this.

Until I change.

But how?

I'm tired.

Too tired to change.

I am tired of this world.

And yet, I know how important it is that I depart with my head held high knowing that I made a difference in my life. That I lived in as best as I could.

Instead, I am living with regrets and shame and guilt.

Which I have not had earlier experience with.

The shame of having to declare bankruptcy and living with my mother.

The guilt of taking many things for granted including my spiritual well-being.

The regret of not making certain decisions at the right times.

I wish I would've never met Fola. Wish I would've walked away for good the first time I broke up with her.

Wish I would've sold those stocks in time.

Wish I didn't buy so much stuff that I didn't need and saved my money for leaving the country instead.

But I didn't know at the time. I thought vaccine passports was going to come into place. I thought the supply chain was going to collapse and that prices will soar.

I thought they'd never let us leave the country. It was nearly two years of not being able to.

I did what I thought was right at the time. I didn't know any better.

What a terrible series of memories to be left with.

All the love I once had for myself. For people. For animals and nature.

That desire to live a simple life in the country.

In a place like Vilcabamba. Picking fruit and vegetables and having well water.

Warm weather all year round.

Like-minded people.

I want it so badly.

My heart is crushed.

I don't condemn God at all but I do wonder why it had to be like this. 

I know there was a hidden hand involved in my life. 

It made sure I couldn't find a decent girl to be in a loving relationship with. I know this because online, I rarely found a woman who looked like someone I would enjoy spending time with.

As I got older, the choices got worse. I don't know why I struggled so much with meeting the right person.

For the longest time since I was a teen, I just wanted to love and be loved by someone.

Haven't really felt that. Can't tell you what it means exactly.

Other than acceptance. Acceptance and compassion and ... appreciation for another human being of the opposite sex and being mutually attracted to one another. Body, mind and spirit.

I long for that. Well, I've longed for that I should say.

Too tired to care now. Too demoralized by everything.

Even if I met the right one, the shame of my situation is going to follow with it.

Who wants to date a nearly 50 year old man who lives with his mother?

I can't believe I'm almost 50. I don't feel like it at all.

Well... 

Yeah. Who wants to date me? I wouldn't. To be perfectly honest.

Six years ago? I'd say yes. I'd like to date myself.

Not anymore.

I'm caught in the trap of hating everything.

And I never was like this before. Never felt so nihilistic.

Maybe if the world was different I wouldn't feel like this. If the world wasn't run by psychopathic narcissists looking to steal things from people that don't belong to them.

Politicians who will do anything for a buck. Including oppressing their own citizens.

Who wants to live on a planet like this?

I hear so many people echo similar thoughts. They're tired too. 

They've had enough.

I don't know if there's a solution to any of this. The economy, the federal reserve, all this corruption.

It seems like everything needs to crash and burn so it all can be "built back better".

Probably was the plan all along. Destroy all the old and bring in the new.

Bring in those 15 minute cities and digital currencies.

Bring in an AI government.

Bring in a universal basic income.

Bring in all kinds of socialist ideas.

God. I swear I will do anything.

Just get me out of here.

Get me to Vilcabamba.

PLEASE.

The only obstacle is money.

That is it.

$200,000USD is the minimum I'd need.

Anything above that will be a bonus and I will do what I can to put it to good use.

I'm so tired.

Jesus help me.

Anyone.

Anything.

I surrender.

Help.

Please help.

The Beginning is Beginning

There are small gifts that the Creator gives to us unexpectedly from time to time to let us know that He/She/It is with us and is paying attention.

I have had one such gift arrive two days ago and upon further reflection, there were other small gifts that lead up to the one I most recently received.

It was a comment posted on a YouTube video that I stumbled across which lead me to what the Creator had in store. Howdie Mickoski who posts on YT about once a month now, released a video about 11 hours before that I watched and didn't think much of. He discussed creation and exiting Plato's Cave but to be honest, I didn't get much out of that conversation.

However, a thought came to my mind later to check the comment section and there it was. A comment from someone who recommended a book called "Butterflies are Free to Fly" which sounded intriguing but me being unable to purchase it was soon remedied when I did a search and found that the author was offering it for free on his website.

And the book gave me the perspective that I needed. For the past 24 hours I have been deeply reflecting on it's premise. That we are not in control of our experiences. All that we can control are our feelings and reactions to the experiences created for us,

To me, this explained a lot of different experiences I've had in my life. From feeling "possessed" by some external intelligence to being given signs such as "someone is watching you" and being lead to certain people at certain times.

The premise further expands itself as the author fills in all the missing pieces of the puzzle I have been searching for. Well, maybe not all of the missing ones but quite a few. 

It explains why "the Secret" doesn't work as advertised. It explains serendipity. It basically makes the case that we are all characters in a video game being played by "something" else. 

And that something else is what the author calls "the Infinite I" ... which may as well mean "God" although it's not quite like God even though it has God-like powers to be able to script our reality and the people that we come across.

Jeff Berwick often likes to say that we are in a 3D video game and I could grasp what he was saying on one level, but this book took it up a few notches and explained more about how not only are we living in a holographic reality but we aren't exactly in control of our experiences and operate at the whims of something or someone else.

The Infinite I. The intelligence that moves pawns about on the chessboard. 

The "game" is that the chess pieces aren't aware that they are being used and moved around or part of a game to begin with.

The author as I said, filled in a lot of holes that I still had in my thoughts. As someone who has read hundreds of books on metaphysics and self-help, etc. His concepts drew from many of the sources I myself am familiar with. 

My first impression was that he drew information from the right sources. McKenna, David Bohm, Michael Talbot, Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, Taoism I believe was referenced. Bruce Lipton, Rhonda Byrnes among others.

Oh, and Dean Radin especially, was a great source to draw material from.

I think I have something here. I do see the futility of my situation. I am hoping for a miracle and while reading this book, I realized that a miracle can only happen under certain conditions. 

I will have to re-establish my relationship with that which is controlling me. To acknowledge it and to... I suppose, please it. Apologize. Share my dreams and feelings and struggles.

Basically, I need to connect with "God" or the power that is able to create and manifest experiences in my life.

And I have been appreciative of the process so far. I feel more at ease. I've accepted my situation and all the... annoyances that come with it. That's important and new to me.

I've accepted it but I certainly do not prefer living this way. 

And so many connections were made that I see the hand of the divine behind events leading up to my reading this book.

For instance, I've been meaning to watch the movie the Thirteenth Floor for a while now. Haven't felt an impulse to but I've kept it in my folder on the laptop for whenever the mood strikes. Almost a year it's been sitting there, unwatched.

Well, reading the book has the author recommending this particular movie to watch.

And after ten minutes in, I felt the urge to pause and write this blog entry to express my appreciation at the Infinite I for leading me to this moment.

Yes, the world is in terrible shape. I still want to leave this country. Still want to live in Vilcabamba or around that area and still want to win a million-dollar lottery jackpot.

I also know that I still want to find and experience real love one day but from reading the book, I realize that these are all outcomes I must do my best not to attach towards.

For it is as Buddha said, attachment is suffering.

The book is filled with nuggets of wisdom drawn from multiple sources. It's not the end-all. be-all of a life philosophy but it provided to me the important puzzle pieces I've been looking for.

It indirectly explains that sign I was given on the park bench where "someone is watching" was scribbled onto a note attached a week after I had asked if anyone was watching me because I felt alone and unloved.

The Infinite I did answer me. It did respond.

So... in my despair, I must turn to radical ideas. Perhaps I am not in control of my experiences. I am not the designer of them. I am the experiencer of them. That is my job. To experience. To perceive, to feel and to react.

My free will is the control I have over my feelings and reactions.

Everything else is up to God or the Infinite I as the author likes to call it.

It's a radical idea. It makes sense too. I spent a good amount of time reviewing moments of my life to see if this new philosophy fits in with my past experiences and it does seem to. 

What I most want right now is that connection back. To being close with this Infinite I, this Creator this intelligence who is controlling my avatar.

I want to commune with it. I want to please it. 

And in turn, I want to be pleased by it.

I really could use a big cosmic hug right now and a kiss on the top of my head.

As the world falls apart and I am living with my mother in a city that I dislike in a country that I no longer am interested in living in with a wallet that is nearly empty and no interest in finding a job or career in this place.

I am willing to surrender it all should the Infinite I be compassionate and loving enough to grant me what I desire.

I... I cannot thank it enough for leading me to this book so that I can better understand it.

I am hoping my ruminations and my attitude will be noticed and encouraged along.

Because I am so very tired of living like this. I have my flaws and I am in the process of acknowledging their origins and corrections.

I really am tired. I have a hard time gathering any energy to store in my batteries.

It truly would take a miracle to get me out of this predicament.

And I believe in miracles.

I believe in the Infinite I. 

I believe in God, the Creator.

I just want it to believe in me by giving me a second chance. A new opportunity.

A way out.

I want it to invest in me.

Because I have been searching for God most of my life. To understand the meaning of this place.

And...

I believe I am coming close to understanding what it all is.

A video game.

And I am a player on the other side.

I am not my body.

I am not my posessions.

I am not my achievements.

I am me.

A man who desires to commune with the forces of goodness and to do good things.

In the name of truth, beauty, love, prosperity, justice, compassion and freedom.

As the world crumbles, I can only express my desire to leave for a better place. To experience new experiences before I pass from this earth. To make my Controller proud and myself to be proud of it.

I see now why gratitude is important even in the worst of situations.

Everything is designed to bring us about to deeper realizations. Of knowing who and what we are.

Video game characters in a holographic universe.

And the video game appears to soon be radically changing judging by the look of things.

I'd like to be a part of the new world.

I'd like to be surrounded by people that love me. That think like me.

In my own home that has an old tree in the yard with a tire hanging off of a rope.

Music from a record player, Elvis, "Caught in a trap..."

The woman that I love coming out with glasses of lemonade as we sit next to each other, watching the darkening sky. Admiring the stars.

Perhaps a child of my own. I know, it sounds ludicrus at this point. Being almost 50 years old and unmarried.

Wealthy enough to retire in Ecuador.

Enjoying that warm year-round weather. Warm thundershowers. 

New kinds of insects and wildlife.

A simple life. A quiet and private one.

Far from the noises of the big cities.

That's my desire.

I would like to write a book about my redemption. My deliverance and my renewal.

Should the Infinite I feel that I am ready for such things.

I think that I am.

I would like to find out.

And I would want to honor this Guardian of mine.

For saving me because I cannot think of how I can save myself. Other than by a miracle.

And so.

I will do what I can.

To be who that I am.

Until the opportunity comes.

Thank you Infinity I.

Thank you God.

I hope you are reading these words.

I hope an answer is coming soon.

Thank you.

Now back to the movie. Which by the way, is about exactly all this. That we live in a holographic reality.

Funny stuff.

The End is Here

As a child I was fascinated by the book of Revelation while in 3rd grade. It was like reading a science-fiction story that may or may not come true because it was written as prophecy to arrive at some point in the future.

Well, I think it is happening. Despite how every few decades people thought they were living in the end times, it really seems to be taking place.

It is not only the book of Revelation that backs this up but other parts of scripture also. A few that I recall point to how "knowledge will increase in the final days" and that time will be shortened.

Yesterday I was reading a Reddit post about how time seems to have sped up. I think so too. Days are flying by and people appear to be looking younger despite being older in years.

This does throw a monkey's wrench into my theory of religions being a control system because how would scripture know such things so far in advance?

But again, it could still be a control system. From what I've been researching and able to piece together, it seems like humanity goes through cycles of resets and after each iteration, history is manufactured and so is religion. A new God is given to people with new rules and recycled truths mixed in to make the whole thing believable.

Whoever and whatever is in control of this world felt it was necessary to include scripture that indicates the "end is near" and what to do to prepare for it.

It does make sense that everything is cyclical. Every beginning has an end and every clock eventually reaches midnight to start a new cycle again.

What bothers me deeply is... I was wanting to get out of Canada before all this was happening. I don't want to spend my last days here in the city I was born that now doesn't resemble what it looked like in my childhood. Cold winters, living with my mother, noisy home, immigrants everywhere, no money, no job, no relationships or friends.

Family is pretty much cut-off. All I have are memories of things that I regret and wish I would have done differently. I asked for this not to happen. To pay off my debts and begin thinking about where I would want to live. 

It didn't work out. Despite my prayers at the time.

I guess I am not one of the "elect". I gave into fear and materialism and lust and excess.

I am not a man who is able to objectively appraise himself. Wrapped up in feelings, little discipline and was not grounded in his spirituality enough to be able to say no to the things that threatened it.

I tried. Went through multiple break-ups with my ex because I knew she was damaging to my spirit. Kept taking her back because I felt like maybe something will change. Maybe she will open up one day.

How dumb I was. Fooled by my own insecurities, ego and faux compassion.

Dead and Yet to be Buried

I have no heart left. There's no recharging my batteries in the environment I am in. 

It is death by a thousand paper cuts day in and day out.

The exact same routine everyday as it has been for almost a year now with the only difference being those 10 days I spent with Karlee when she came to visit last summer.

Such a fleeting memory. I don't like bringing memories up anymore of the past. I mean, I sometimes fantasize about should have done this, should have done that but they're painful to revisit.

I sometimes think about my old place. That quiet, that peace. How it felt to sit on my couch and watch a movie with a cup of tea and having the privacy to not be interrupted or have my senses assaulted like I am here.

I think of moments like that and they seem so far away. Like it was a dream that didn't really happen. To be able to go out on my deck and see the moon every night was a luxury I took for granted now that I have no view of the moon from the backyard. If you can even call it a backyard that faces an apartment complex with bright parking lot lights aimed at our property.

Today I was at the park as usual, trying to get away from all this but failing because now there are more and more people walking and driving around and interrupting me. This one fellow drove up to me and started a conversation about nothing, really. Hockey which I have no interest in, UFC fights that I could only comment on from years ago because I stopped watching. 

It was such an empty and hollow conversation that I wanted him to leave me alone. I don't understand why people do such things. Maybe he was lonely but after about 20 minutes I saw him pull out a pipe and inhaled what looked like cannabis. So, that was why he stopped me. He was in that mood and needed someone to talk to.

But as I said at the beginning of this post, I have no heart left. No interest in anything. Where I used to enjoy watching videos and keeping up with the news, I have seen enough. Every video of "get out of Canada" and "prepare now!" and "fiat currency collapse!" is just ... too much. 

It hurts knowing two years ago I was making preparations to leave the country for someplace else. I wasn't sure where. Mexico didn't seem right for me, Nicaragua might have been better. 

In any case, I had $200,000 in stocks that I couldn't sell in time because...

Because I like sabotaging myself I guess. I don't have any other explanation. I made the decision to sell but because the market was closing in 2 minutes, I couldn't do it in time.

And now I am paying the price for that one decision. Lost my sanctuary, lost my money, most of my possessions, my passports, my peace of mind, my dreams and my heart.

I have no heart left.

It feels like my soul has already left the body and I'm... just a shell. 

Waiting for... something. No plan in mind. Just... 

It hurts thinking about all this. So many things are hurting me right now. Where I live is like being inside of a toxic fishbowl that I can't leap out of or remove myself from.

My day is spent ignoring the world around me by staring at my phone. I hate myself for doing what I once tried to limit the use of. 

But the alternative is worse. If I'm not on the phone hunting for something to keep me occupied, the reality of my situation sets in and I start touching on all of the trauma that comes along with it.

I've lost it all. I have nothing left. 

And what hurts even more is understanding where I went wrong and... 

All the lessons I've learned. About myself, about spirituality, religion, relationships and God.

The lessons that I wish I had learned three or four years ago.

Like, religions are all control systems. The New Testament is a different book than the Old Testament which is entirely different from the Quran.

And they all have in common the idea of a "God" that we must pray towards and this God can punish or reward us depending on whether it likes us or not.

And even if it likes us, there's no guarantee of safety no matter how righteous and moral we are in this life. The book of Job proves this.

There are so many contradictions in those three books. The Abrahamic religions. The Old Testament was about subservience to "the Lord" no matter what happens in life. It is about animal sacrifices, food offerings, circumcision, not eating pork, "thou shalt not murder" but with stories where God tells people to murder. The Old Testament depicts a cruel and jealous God called "Yahweh" or "Jehovah" who appears to be a tyrant. 

The New Testament is completely different. There is no mention of Yahweh or Jehovah and instead Jesus calls it "the Father". There are no animal sacrifices or ritualistic food offerings, God is non-existent and doesn't appear in the story at all unlike how it was with Moses and Noah; and we are told that Jesus is the "son" of God but also has him saying that we are all the sons and daughters of God. In the end, God does not save his beloved son from an early death at the age of 33. A cruel injustice allowed to happen and we are told that it was a voluntary suicide to atone for the sins of mankind.

The Quran is... completely different than the Old and the New Testament. Mohammed is given the status of a prophet and the ONLY and LAST prophet of God/Allah. The book is impressively written and presumably was dictated by Mohammed upon guidance of the angel Gabriel, I believe. In Islam, one can marry multiple wives and age doesn't seem to make a difference.

Judaism is the worst of the three. I don't even want to bother bringing up the heinous acts that Rabbis promote, such as sucking the blooded penis of a freshly circumsized infant. Or calling themselves the "chosen ones" despite acting like vampiric ghouls preying on the gullible and weak.

All three of those religions don't mesh with one another. Jews don't recognize the messiah known as Jesus and Islam calls him a "teacher" rather than any kind of divine emissary, prophet or God himself.

So which of the three religions are correct? The answer is none of them. They were each designed to spiritually enslave mankind.

It is a genius move. Create a story, attribute it to the "divine" and insert nuggets of truth here and there to make the text looks legitimate and believable. Otherwise, you'll go to hell if you disobey what it tells us to do.

According to Judaism, we aren't the chosen people but are the "goyim" and are condemned. 

According to Christianity, if we don't accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and savior, we are also condemned.

And Islam.. well, if you don't believe Muhammed was the last and greatest prophet, you too are condemned.

Isn't that interesting how it all works? Each of those systems of control have a "do this or you're going to hell" rule and rules within it.

That means they are fear-based. 

What happens to the people of the world who don't believe in Jesus? Who don't accept Muhammed's words? Who don't abide by Yahweh's commands of keeping the sabbath and slicing off the foreskins of our babies?

Because those three books are FILLED with examples of "do this or you'll go to hell but do this and you'll get to heaven".

I now realize the truth. They were all distractions. They were designed to keep you from worshipping the true God.

Ourselves.

And I don't mean that from a blasphemous, "screw everyone but me" perspective because that is not at all what worshipping ourselves mean.

It means to honor the spirit within us. To cultivate it. Express it. Share that bright light with others we come across. Loving others enough to share ourselves with them. 

Because the true God is not some male figure up in the clouds managing the video game like the Architect in the second Matrix movie.

God is a network. God is the totality of our connection to one another through the spirit.

We were duped into worshipping the "internet" rather than being made to understand that the totality of consciousness is made up of individual parts and that each part connects to one another.

The collective consciousness is "God" or the "Creator".

When we pray, we give thanks to being a part of the human experience. We express gratitude for the connection that our spirit has to others.

Because it is exactly like God. It is omnipotent and omnipresent. 

It knows all and is everywhere.

Because it is US. Each and every one of us.

No, not one person knows everything. No, not one person is everywhere.

But people as a whole know everything. People are also everywhere.

So are animals. Anything alive has a consciousness that is plugged into the spiritual network.

That we connect to and call "God", not realizing that the secret those early designers of the Abrahamic religions wanted to keep from us is to know that we are all parts of God.

Collectively we are God.

This is some of what I've come to realize these past couple of years. Our only responsibility is to become the best versions of ourselves that we can. That's it. There is no only reason for being here.

The "best version" includes moral integrity and righteousness. There is no need for the Ten Commandments because morality doesn't need to be taught but it is understood on a deep, unconscious level.

The most destructive force in the world is that of division. Division of status, of religion, of political affiliation, of gender preference, of sex, money, materialism.

Despite the manufactured nature of these religious control systems, they do have to include some truth in them so that people will think the rest of the BS is also true and must be followed.

One of those truths is really to love one another. Love thy neighbor, as Jesus commanded.

That's hard to do at times but it makes perfect sense. Love is unity through acceptance. It brings people together. It elevates the poor and wretched because should a world be based on this principle, we would not allow for people to suffer.

We would love them or at least help them learn to love themselves.

That's the true gift one can give. Helping someone love themselves so that they can love others.

When we help someone's spirit burn a bit more brightly, they affect the world around them.

That's the truth of how humanity is to save itself. How we must conduct our spiritual affairs.

"Do no harm" and "love one another".

We don't need hundreds of pages of stories to know these things.

Imagine if we knew with certainty those words are all that needs to be followed. Everything would be so different. There is so much abundance in this world that we wouldn't allow for poverty to exist.

It doesn't mean that everyone gets a Ferrari but we all could be driving amazing, cheap cars if we really wanted to.

Humanity has so much potential that it has been deliberately kept blinded from realizing.

And that is another thing I have realized from studying religion. If we only knew to focus on ourselves, improve and live life with honor and integrity and help others to do the same; we would become so powerful in this world. There wouldn't be any "elites" like Bill Gates to worry about. We just wouldn't allow them to impact our lives.

Because they are doing "harm" and that is in violation of the rule.

It's tricky to conceptualize all this. Capitalism doesn't work because there is no limit to the amount of wealth one can gather.

Socialism doesn't work because there is no incentive to strive and work hard.

I'm rambling but I need to get this off my chest.

So. My life feels over. I can't recharge my batteries. I can't connect to my spirit and to "God" the way that I used to. 

I wake up in the morning with no purpose. No options that I can think of pursuing and no reason to want to exist.

All I have is a thin sliver of hope. That somehow a miracle can present itself at any moment in time.

But, in thinking about spirituality and such, I realize that I'm asking for things without a good connection to humanity/God.

I can hardly take care of myself. Let alone care about others.

And that is another thing I've learned. Heaven and hell aren't in some grand old spiritual realm out there.

They're right here. We can create heaven or hell on this Earth if we wanted to.

Starting with our own lives. 

And that is another thing those stories kept hidden from us.

Imagine if they said, "go create heaven upon Earth, make your life into something you are proud and happy to be living while helping others experience the same" instead of, "be fruitful and multiply" which everyone seems to think has to do with having multiple children and teaching them to be Christian.

In any case, I am living in hell. 

I did not ask to create it. It just happened.

I don't pray much at all these days. Didn't seem to work all that well for me in the past but that is probably because I was giving my energy away to a blank wall and putting my hopes into something that I couldn't see. 

Rather than putting that energy into myself. Realizing that I am a divine being that I can mold myself into the image I desire. To be in good shape, to conduct myself with honor and integrity, to express gratitude and seek out experiences that makes me into a better more wiser human being.

To believe in myself more than to believe in a "God".

That is what I have failed to learn all those years I've been praying ever since I was a child.

I could have designed my own prayer.

It would have been filled with the goals I have and the rules my life is to follow and abide by. 

It would express gratitude for the opportunities I've been given.

And it would express love for being a part of the human experience.

Instead, I prayed the prayer that was taught to me written by some guy I have never met.

I prayed out of superstition rather than praying out of respect.

Respect for myself.

I used to often realize that I placed more faith in God than I did in myself.

What a mistake. God is just a network after all. 

A network that when tapped into, can provide all types of miracles.

Because each person "uploads" their experiences into the collective consciousness each night as they fall asleep. Animals do this too.

And it all becomes a part of the system we can each access.

When I say something nice about someone, that person sends the compliment up into the cloud at night and the entire world can access this compliment if they really wanted to. They would know someone/somewhere said something nice about so and so.

But our psychic connection has deliberately been suppressed.

And we are given GMO foods, vaccines, unclean water and unfulfilling jobs to keep us distracted while we pay more and more taxes towards causes that we do not support or experience any benefits from.

This is truly a hell when we allow for others to do the thinking for us and not saying a word in opposition.

I didn't mean to write so much about religion but I felt like I had to.

I love who I once was. 

Sitting and staring at the stars in the sky was a joy of mine.

Now I can hardly sit still for more than a few minutes without reaching for my phone to distract myself with.

Now I know why I was prone to daydreaming in the past and why I had such a vivid imagination.

Because I was connecting to God.

My spirit was reaching out and communing with the divine.

Gathering up all kinds of treasures.

This is why meditation is considered useful but wasn't the method that I used.

Now I can't use any method. 

Too many noises in this environment. Too many interruptions. No privacy.

No peace.

I'd love to go out in the woods right now, build a fire and stare at the flames while looking at the sky.

But I know that when I return from this, any nourishment of my soul is going to be drained out once I'm back in this prison of living under the thumb of my mother.

I have no heart left.

Just a little for Princess.

And even that is hard to come by at times. Sometimes I can't pet her for more than a minute before feeling the urge to distract myself with a phone.

Because I can't bear the thought of reality coming into focus.

The reality of how shitty my life is.

And how hopeless my future looks like.

And remembering what I once had.

But is now gone.

Everything is gone.

I'm dead and yet to be buried.

God save me.

I need you all.

Mother's Day

(copy and pasted from a text file written about a week ago)

Groundhog day again.

Again and again.

Woke up this morning to the sound of some guy walking around with a leaf blower and once that passed after about an hour, the thuds and bassy footsteps coming from the children next door kept going on for quite some time.

Finally decided to get up. Got my coffee, went outside and endured the noise of the children next door who decided to scream in the backyard next to us all while a neighbor from the apartment balcony across sat in his chair facing me and looked down as I tried to ignore everything around me.

Weather was warm enough to be outside but not warm enough to be comfortable.

Just stared at my phone going through twitter, comments and videos. Tried shutting the world out as best as I could.

But that didn't last long either. My mother decides to come outside and "check the BBQ" to see if it is working. Doesn't make any sense why she had to be out there for a half hour doing that.

Eventually at around 6pm I've had enough of the children screaming and the guy watching and the mom interrupting so I get into my car to go for a coffee. Found a good spot at Tim Hortons but was soon met by loud motorcycles going by and revving their engines at the nearby traffic light.

Had enough of this and decided to go to a more private spot. Soon as I arrive, three cars of teenagers parked nearby and started puffing on weed while being loud and obnoxious. Honking their horns. East Indian immigrants too.

And I'm sitting here watching them as I type. Stoned out of their minds, repeating in my head over and over how much I want to leave this place.

I'll do anything.

Everything.

As long as it serves the princples I value most.

Every day is exactly the same. I don't know how I'm bearing all this but I... I am sick of it.

I thought about spiritual suppression. This situation I am in seems to have been engineered by forces unseen.

For the longest time, I suspected most of my family was in on this. It sounds paranoid but all the little things add up.

Let's start with my mother.

Why was she happy and wanted to hug me when I said I filed for bankruptcy?

Why did she sign the house over to me in 2018 only to change her mind and sign over half of it? Why was my aunt with her the entire time?

Why did my mother never signed the house I lived in over to me? Why was she so reluctant to do so? Why was she so willing to pay the home insurance and part of the mortgage?

Why did she divorce my father at 13 and then took me to see a counsellor after asking me who I wanted to live with and it wasn't her?

Why did she call the police on me when I was exhausted and needed sleep during the time I was in St Paul? What motivated her to call me 8 times when there was nothing wrong or going on? 

Why does she make so many terrible decisions? Why did she pick such a horrible place to live that is noisy and small and with a bad energy in it?

Why is she so dirty with handling food? Why isn't she bothered by the stains she leaves on light switches and handles?

Why does she constantly through food outside and is surprised by the mice that comes to eat it? Why does she keep promising over and over to "never do it again" and keeps breaking her word?

Why is it that since 2006 I felt like she had mental issues that I couldn't describe? Why hasn't she helped encourage independence within me? Why was she so glad that I had to move in with her and saying, "I need to keep an eye on you"

And why is it that I never really felt loved by her? Yes, she hugs, but keeps her body at a distance. Yes, she kisses, but it doesn't ever feel genuine.

Why was she against almost every idea I've ever had? From buying a house, to investing, to looking for a better career? Why was she so insistent that I stay with the job that I hate?

Why is she always against the idea of me travelling anywhere on my own? Why does she constantly force food onto me and makes me feel guilty when I don't eat it?

That's just some of the questions I ask about her. 

Why can't she think and behave like a normal human being? Why is she the crazy lady that eats one bite of an apple and leaves it sitting on the counter and then is surprised when fruit flies come around?

And it got me all to realizing that I rarely felt real love in my life. 

The only time I think I felt it was with my step-sister Samantha when she was young and told me that she loved me with a big smile on her face.

The other time might've been with my step-sister Stephanie who I bumped into at a convenience store with her friends who she proudly told them that I was her brother with a big smile on her face.

I guess I felt love from Fluffy, the cat I used to have who died mysteriously while I lived with my mother. I never believed that story she told me about how she thought the "neighbor" poisioned or "whacked" him.

There are so many more examples. 

She loves the situation I am in. She has the money from the sale of the house which would've been mine if I didn't agree to sign over my half or if I had asked her to sign it over to me because I was living there.

I have a lot of resentment in me over the family I've grown up with. I don't think I deserved any of how they behaved towards me.

My cousin Jeffery who suddenly stopped talking to me and ignored my calls and shut out the rest of the family due to some gossip about his sister which I had nothing to do with.

My cousin Jessie who I was close with, suddenly cutting all ties once she found Jay and married him while also having kids. Who also called the police on me in 2006 to take me to the hospital when I did absolutely nothing wrong and exhibited no signs of violence or anything to be fearful of.

My cousin Mark is the same. Making false promises. Such as helping me with my plumbing but wouldn't show up despite my needing him. Or saying he'll invite me over to check out his new house which never happened despite my buying him a housewarming gift.

My dad was never affectionate. Didn't care to encourage or support me in any way.

And... I didn't do anything wrong. I guess everyone thought I was an idiot for being hearing-impaired. Figured I had to be pitied and kept at a distance.

All I want is to be out of here. Vilcabamba. Wealthy enough to establish financial independence and to be out of this country.

Sighs. Another car of kids showed up across from me. All immigrants. All smoking weed and goofing around.

Really tired of this God. Wherever and whatever you are.

Pleading doesn't do anything, it seems. Prayer doesn't seem to work either.

So...

What is the point of living?

What is it going to take to make me break out of this cycle/trap that I am in where everyday is exactly the same?

Getting a job is not going to help. I refuse to contribute to this insane society where insane people think there is nothing wrong with what is going on.

So many obedient and oblivious people. Nobody questions anything. They all live in their own world.

Meanwhile, western society falls apart. More migrants, more inflation, more degeneracy, more white-replacement, more destruction of culture, more rules and conditions like not being allowed to criticize anyone or anything because of "hate speech" even if such protests are warranted.

I almost have to laugh at how stuck inside of this prison I am in. A prison of the mind, the body and the spirit with my mother as the warden. 

Every day is death by a thousand cuts. From being forced food, to not having privacy or quiet, not having money enough to do anything about all this, no job, no desire to be in this country, constantly going into my past memories and revising history. Dreaming of being in Ecuador.

Ecuador.

I want to be in front of that church one day. To sit on the bench. To listen to the Spanish being spoken. To feel that warm weather that never gets too cold or too hot.

To pursue the opportunities that comes with starting a new life. Meet new people, come up with ideas, writing a book, starting a business.

To sit by a river, alone and in peace. On a large piece of property that I can call my own.

To connect more fully with God, the Creator. To dig deeper into myself.

And to look at the stars in the evening sky. No light pollution. Clear constellations. Everything visible and majestic beyond words.

To wake up in the morning with the sun. To be able to go outside with a t-shirt and not ever need to wear a winter coat.

Warm rain. Thunder. Fresh air. Clean water and non-GMO food.

To learn about the plants and animals of the area. To feed the stray dogs. Befriend them.

Get involved with the community. Learn Spanish. Meet Jesse, Brandon, Carl and other expats in the area. 

To be with like-minded "conspiracy" theorists who understands and validates my observation of the world. From vaccines to chemtrails and all manner of corruption in government.

I will give anything to be in Vilcabamba, financially secured and with my own piece of property.

Anything.

I type this words from my soul to the soul of us all. So that they may be heard.

I ask for the opportunity to prove myself. With conditions attached.

And I will not deviate from doing the best I can for the goodness of myself and others around me.

To do so with humility, grace and respect.

In peaceful surroundings. Among nature and all of its wonders.

Not here.

Not Edmonton. This... hellscape.

Where more and more are becoming homeless as fewer and fewer are able to afford a home. Or to even find a job.

While migrants keep coming in. Given the red carpet at the expense of Canadian citizens.

We are in a war. 

This is Nazi Germany and nothing hurts me more than seeing it unfold ahead of time, making the necessary preparations and then losing it all to become trapped in this place.

When all I do, all my soul does, is cry for a way out.

My mind keeps coming back to euthanasia. I am seriously considering it although I hate the idea of dying in a hospital. In Edmonton of all places.

My mother never was excited when I got my Polish passport, never encouraged me to travel, definetely did not want me to immigrate anywhere.

She just wanted to keep me dependent and tethered onto her. Stuck in this hell.

To watch the country burn down while she sits in her bedroom for most of the day watching television programming which I cannot stand. Especially the commercials. The fake news reporters.

The game shows she watches. My God... who cares about them. She does though. Loves watching people "win" money and then call them idiots for losing or not playing the game right.

I want out of this place.

I'll do anything. Everything to make sure that I deserve the blessing of being given an exit.

I don't want to schedule euthanasia. 

I don't want to live here any longer.

I know I have so much to offer the world.

But the world needs to take a leap of faith with me and believe that my words are true.

I know what God is. It's everything and everyone. It's in every flower, animal and human being.

I call out to you God, asking for an answer.

I love you but hate this world.

Hate the evil that has taken over it and is looking to enslave us all.

Erasing and re-writing our history. Destroying our culture. Stifling our right to speak out against this corruption.

God, hear upon me. Hear upon me you all.

I will NOT LET YOU DOWN.

I will give you my very best.

But I need you to make the first move.

Give me a reason to believe. Give me a reason to care, again.

Because I did love the world before. I loved talking to you all. In shops, on the street, in the parks, at my job.

I know many are suffering, some worse than I.

But I promise a guaranteed return on your investment.

Invest in me, world.

Believe in me.

Let's stick it to the bad guys.

I will find a way. We will experience it together.

I will do my best to save those needing to be saved.

In exchange, I ask that you first save myself.

For I have no other reason to go on. I have nothing to look forward to.

A winning lottery jackpot ticket is the beginning of the adventure I want to take us all on.

I will not squander this opportunity. I will remain gracious, humble and attentive to what will be done with the money.

Most of it will be for you. For us.

I call upon you, as I have been doing for more than a year.

I want to experience love. To give it.

To receive it.

I am worthy of the blessing that I ask for.

I hope you will think so too.

Save me.

To save yourselves.

As many as I possibly can.

Gracias.

See you in Vilcabamba.

2024.

Hurdles

I can't take any more of this.

Everyday is the same. Same routine.

Get up, make coffee, smoke, look at my phone.

Go outside and look at my phone.

Get tired of endless noises and interruptions and go to the park.

Get noises and interruptions at the park, but not as bad.

Come home by 10pm to creaking floors, the sound of the bus going by every 20 minutes and sometimes interruptions by my mother.

I can't build up any strength living like this. There's no safe place for me to recharge. To nurture any optimism, to restore the peace I once had. 

Can't feel good about the future. Saw this coming years ago and did my best to get out but failed.

Failed.

And now I'm in hell. 

It's hard to care anymore at times. Thinking back to how I was is hard to imagine. That state of alertness and optimism and being at peace.

Loving myself. Able to smile easily. Make jokes.

Not much to smile or make jokes about these days.

I can't remember when it was but I thought April of this year would have to have something happen by then. 

Otherwise there's no  point to going on.

Praying doesn't seem to do anything. I can hardly summon emotion for it at times.

And yet my heart knows it has so much to offer the world.

But it is kept caged.

A prison within a prison inside of a prison of the prison.

At some point a choice is going to have to be made.

And I don't want to make that particular choice.

But what else can I do?

Typing these words into nothingness.

I can't seem to trust anything these days.

So hard on my faith. On myself.

And if I knew I was about to leave, would I make this blog public? All those years of entries?

What good would any of it do? Just make someone depressed.

So this blog really has no value to anyone other than myself and not even that at times. It can be cathartic and cleansing.

But... Tomorrow is going to be the same anyways.

No ways of building momentum towards any goal or dream or desires.

Don't have money to leave. Don't have a passport even. Barely any money for gas. 

No friends. No assets really.

No point.

Stuck in this cage. 

I can't believe the experiences I've had over the years where divinity revealed itself to me. In the form of coincidences and strange events. 

I know there's a greater force at work out there.

I know there's a better place to be than here.

So the question of why are we here... well, thanks to a book I was reading, I believe I finally know the answer.

And I am sorry to say that it doesn't seem like I can complete my mission.

Not like this. Under these conditions. In these troubling times we're in.

Intuitively knew all this years ago and did my best to prepare.

But failed.

Failed.

They say not to ruminate upon the past but...

It's just a constant reminder of how nothing ever good really happened to me. 

Nothing of an event that changed my life dramatically. That reminded me I am watched and loved and guided towards great things.

It's lonely being like this. In this house with a mother that... lives inside of a reality entirely different than my own.

Her behavior hasn't changed in decades. She's been like this her entire life.

I don't know how she does it.

And... my God... Do I ever need you right now. By whatever name you wish to be called.

Or whoever and whatever it is that serves your will. That can enable changes through needed intervention.

We are told to "raise our frequency" and I agree with that notion.

But in this situation, I can't.

I just can't.

I need you Father.

I need you right now.

Or whoever wishes to help.

Do not let my life be in vain.

Love me as I have wanted to love you.

I know not what to do.

My life is yours. I have screwed it up beyond the point where I cannot envision a way of repairing it.

Your will is my own from now on. If you serve truth, beauty, compassion, prosperity, justice and freedom.

Your will is my own.

My life is in your hands.

I'm so tired.

I really can't figure out how to get out from under all this suffocating weight.

To live the same day over and over.

I can't get my privacy.

Here comes my mother going downstairs.

Closing the laptop.

I'm done.

And I've returned.

She asked me why I went to Fort Saskatchewan yesterday and I told her I needed a change and was sick of the neighborhood.

She then says the neighborhood doesn't bother her.

Nothing bothers her.

She's in her room almost all day watching tv.

Then said she has ice cream in the fridge.

Wish I had someone I could be vulnerable around.

But I don't think they would want to hear what I have to say or how I actually feel.

Why would anybody?

All I have is Princess.

I don't know what I'd do without her.

I'd forget that I still love something in this world.

Because there's nothing else.

Cope

It's all falling apart.

Saw this happening years ago and I am constantly living in the fantasy world of "what if" thinking about where I would be now had things gone right for me.

Its a slow collapse. The inevitable result is not good. Intuitively I deeply felt this was coming because once I saw the government response to covid and learned about what it was, I thought there was no saving this system. The old world is gone. Good music is no longer produced or appreciated. Movies and television shows are propaganda vehicles and the ads on TV/Social media/YouTube are disturbing for me to have to watch/listen to. That fakeness to them. Those smiling people of diversity selling products that most of us never need. Pretending that there's a future to be optimistic about. Not wanting to address the seriousness of what is going on. Can't imagine how they would when companies want to sell certain products but, there it is.

I don't want to sound like a broken record like I usually do. My mind and spirit and body feels exhausted. This is what I most wanted to avoid those four years ago once I clued into what was going on. Knowing that we were moving towards a dystopian future that "conspiracy theorists" have been talking about for decades but few of us actually believing their warnings.

I think about the book I halfway finished in 2011. The way I had predicted so many of the things that were to happen. I got the virus part, Neurallink, totalitarianism, censorship, suppression of religious expression and the banning of Bibles which may be soon to occur, magical technologies that will be introduced to people once they are fully surveilled and kept under lock and key in "smart cities" of which I also predicted. Predicted a fake UFO invasion that is created by the gov't to stoke fear into the population so that they would have control. Predicted children would be raised by the state (hasn't yet happened). Predicted that psychopaths will rule the world (has happened). 

And I feel remorseful about not being able to finish that book and publishing it in the years since. So many distractions, so many self-doubts about how good it really was and not really believing that people would pay to read a book like this. Not thinking anyone cared about novels in an age where everything is free.

And maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe I should've given it my very best despite how hard it was at times. Even if I made zero dollars from it. If it is read by a handful of people, at the very least those people would have the predictions I made in their heads and maybe my book could've helped prepare them for what started to happen in 2020.

In the book I predicted the fake alien invasion around the year 2024-2025. Who knows if it'll happen or not but it would be a galvanizing event for sure. Guaranteed lockdowns and price controls and universal basic income and whatever other draconian measures are sure to be taken as a reaction to the fear it would cause.

Forget a virus, fear those UFOs in the sky that the gov't cannot explain. Perhaps they will blame the wildfires of Maui, Chile, Canada and Texas on "alien" technology that they couldn't reveal to the public due to how sensitive of a situation it was. Although in truth, it was all done and carried out by humans hostile to the West.

And what hurts me the most is knowing all this was coming while not being prepared. Not in a safe place. On a sinking ship with no life raft or preserver in sight despite coming so close to realizing my goal of financial freedom by mere minutes as I couldn't sell my stocks in time when I wanted to.

I'm tired of all this God. Spiritual warfare is absolutely what is going on here. I know... I at least wrote about it early in 2020 and warned some people on Medium, which is good. Perhaps it made some kind of difference to them and altered the trajectory of their lives in a meaningful way.

I just want to do more than sit here with my mother experiencing groundhog's day over and over with no money, no passport and no options of leaving or living anywhere else.

Trapped. 

I want to be on the frontlines of this. Armed with my weapon of truth, belief in the Creator as my armor. I know a spiritual war is not fought physically, it's fought differently. It's fought by nurturing our connection to a higher and greater intelligence. To take our marching orders from it. To place ourselves in an environment that minimizes the inevitable shock that is soon to come, surrounded by people of like-mind.

Instead, I'm with a woman who sees nothing wrong going on. Who gives me the "look" whenever I bring up stuff like chemtrails or GMOs/chemicals in our food or tell her about how birth control drugs and other contaminants are in our tap water that we aren't filtering out.

I can't tell her anything. Even if she believed every word I said, there's not much we can do with the limited money she has.

And my mind keeps going back to when I had my own place. All the things I would've done differently. I spent hours in bed last night fantasizing about the alternate reality that could have happened if everything played out the way I wanted it to.

I think about an alternate reality with Karlee. With my former friends Justin and Seth collaborating on moving out of the country. I think about renting out my place and having income. I think about all the things I would do in Vilcabamba and how my morning, afternoon and nights would go.

I think about all those opportunities. I think about time travelling back to 2020 knowing what I know now and making all the right choices on the stock market which would have gotten me close to a million dollars. I'd have not bought a generator for my home or any of all the other "bug out" supplies and preps that I spent thousands of dollars on. I would've been getting rid of things, planning my move out of the country, not looking back.

And starting on a profound spiritual adventure in a place without cold or snow and filled with great people and new things to see and do.

It's about the only thoughts I have in my mind that brings a brief sense of joy and excitement to this exhausted corpse I am temporarily animating.

Today I was listening the usual podcasts and videos. Anything conspiracy related or commentary on our situation mimics my own opinion. I am rarely learning anything new and today was no exception. Listened to Mike Adams on the Health Ranger and his opinion on Trump and the potential problems he will cause once he returns to office mirrors my own analysis. I foresee Pierre Pouliverre behaving the same way. I imagine that Trudeau will be removed or step down from power in 2025. The old guard will be replaced by a new flavour of tyranny and control.

So tired of all this God. Sitting here helplessly trapped in this place. Questioning my entire life and how where it once felt that I was divinely guided has led me into this living hell.

Questioning my faith in you. Wondering if it was misplaced. Maybe I should've been praying to myself instead of an external authority. Sending my valuable attention and energy to places where they do not belong. The same mistake I made with my relationships with people who abused what I've given them.

I need reciprocity right now God. 

Whoever and whatever you are. Wherever you might be.

For the true creator of this realm has the greatest amount of control over it. This includes the ability to create miracles.

And I could sure use one of those right now.

I'm suffering again from some kind of bacterial infection. My face is dry and itchy and so is my scalp. Two months ago I had to go to the emergency room to get the swelling from between my butt drained out, as gross as that sounds. Now I might have to do it again because I'm feeling the same symptoms. Fever coming on and pain between my legs. Itchiness, tiredness.

I don't want to do it again. I waited more than 6 hours in the emergency room the last time.

And who is to say it is not going to return in another 2 months?

The doctor didn't know what it was other than to say it was an infection. Prescribed antibiotics. 

I'm so tired of all this God.

So tired.

I ask for deliverance and renewal. I ask for an acknowledgement of my faith in you.

All those years in my blog I've mentioned how I prayed. How pathetic it is to think I might have wasted my time when I should have been working on believing more in myself.

At least I took chances with the stock market. Figured that was the only path I could take to get out of this place and I felt divinely guided. I was so careful until the very last minute.

Wish I could've crossed the finish line with a smile. My life would've been so different. I know I would've kept my faith in God and worked at developing an even closer connection between us.

Still remember how much gratitude I expressed when I saw the amount in my stock portfolio that day. Minutes before the stock market closed. 200k. I planned for 215k but thought not to get greedy.

Thanked God regardless.

And here I am now. Naked without a shield on the frontlines of this battle taking place. No allies. No resources. 

Just left to rot until the inevitable takes me. 

That is what my faith in God has produced for me. 

Yes, there is a higher power and a goodness out there.

But...

I guess it doesn't love me.

I believe it used to.

But I don't think it does anymore.

I'm so tired. 

Someone won the lottery in Edmonton on Saturday and I was briefly excited until I checked my ticket.

It wasn't me.

But imagine how good $5,000,000 would be right now. I already figured out what I would do with that amount.

1 million for my family. Get my cousin Jessie and Mark homes of their own. Some money for my mother, perhaps $400,000 which she can do whatever she wants with,

1 million for myself. Buy a home and property in Ecuador. Set up a self-sufficient homestead with solar and spring water nearby. Money left over to be invested in crypto and placed in areas where I think it will be safe. Such as some in an Ecuador bank where they pay a guaranteed 8% interest annually on a locked in deposit.

3 million will be left for the community. I might be able to build a movie theatre in that town. I could start a crypto bank. I know I can do other things that will be valuable to both the expats and locals.

And.. it's not the money that is important. It's me being independent again. Autonomous. Able to select and cook my own food. Make my own decisions. Wake up early to go outside and see the sun rise and enjoying a drink while it sets. Practicing Taiichi, learning how to make pottery, learning about homesteading and plants and identifying ways I could help the community.

Maybe get back to writing again. Write a different kind of novel. Something that inspires and uplifts. Something that gives people hope for the future.

Because these are such dark times right now.

Homelessness. Poverty. Crime. Corruption.

People suddenly dying. Increases in cancer. Stress.

I know there are millions of people who are deserving of a better life. A better civilization.

I want to do my part in this war.

But I need help.

Lord God, Jesus Christ, Holy Mother and Spirit.

David, my higher-self.

I call out to you asking for a miracle.

I will do everything in my power to prove myself worthy of one.

There is no better story to be told than one who had everything, lost it all and gained it back again.

I would like to be Job at the end of his sufferings.

I want to rise up against the madness and be the warrior that I know I can be.

Is anyone out there listening?

This is not my soul purpose.

It wasn't meant to be like this.