Crumbling

 It was a difficult Sunday to get through. The days go by fast when there is no job to go to, nothing to wake up for and no obligations to fulfil.

I had a hard time with myself. I'm trying to manifest a lottery jackpot. Really trying. Trying to connect with God and Yeshua. I cried in my car earlier thinking about how badly I want Jesus to appear in front of me and have a heart to heart conversation with me.

Why does it all feel so purposeless? If there is no God or Jesus or a loving sentient being interested in our spiritual development and growth, why bother with this place? Why are we here?

A part of me understands that we are to use free will to create the reality we desire to have.

Another part of me looks around at my life wondering how it got so screwed up. Every part of it. It is like the life I was living in the past has more or less been erased with little to show for it. \

A teddy bear from when I was six. Some pictures. 

Almost all of my books are gone. My dad's painting. My comics. My CDs and movies and video games.

I am at the bottom of it all. Nothing brings me much pleasure these days. 

Little gives me hope.

All I have at this moment is to will my desired reality into existence. 

That lottery jackpot.

There isn't any time left for it to happen. It needs to happen soon. 

I don't know how am I even going to make my monthly bankruptcy payments.

Days like this is when I want to give up and die. Just leave this place. Not come back. 

History has shown how manipulated humanity is. The dark forces ruling over this place do not care one iota for our spiritual development and evolution. Consciousness is suppressed, technologies are suppressed, lies are everywhere and our food, water and air are deliberately poisoned with toxins and chemicals.

I can't take much more of this. I really can't.

Laying on a thin mattress in my mother's basement. Surrounded by items of food that I bought as part of prepping for the worst that I expected to come more than two years ago.

I did not prep for this. I did not ask for this to happen.

I prayed. 

Believed in a higher power.

There is really no progress being made on my end. Every day is a loop.

It feels like I have been betrayed.

I used to smile and joke often. The side of my face was quick to rise and my eyes swift to light up with optimism and joy.

I don't feel like that anymore.

Whatever arrogance I once had feels long gone. Burned away.

As are much of my dreams. Of getting out of this country and starting a new life.

I can't believe the situation I am in. There aren't enough words to communicate how horrible it has been. All the small details that I can't begin to fully describe that reminds me daily how much I don't want to be here.

The way my heart sinks at seeing homeless people on the streets. The flies and insects that buzz around inside the house because my mother likes to leave food exposed on the counter. The creaking of the floors. The lack of privacy and the single bathroom. Dealing with bankruptcy. Not having much money left. The loss of my independence. The loss of my faith.

I am not a bad person. I am as imperfect as anyone else. More so than most. Having the hearing disability that I do.

A fellow on Reddit told me that I was more powerful than I know. My heart squeezed out a sigh, remembering how my faith has lead me to this point. All those nights of prayer and expressions of gratitude unanswered and unacknowledged.

Knowing the state of the world as it is, I cannot find faith in any of it. Our history has been manipulated as are our sciences and the medical system and politics and religion.

And so many people in this world are carrying about like nothing is wrong. On Reddit, there are threads making fun of those who protested against genital mutilation of their children and giving them puberty blockers behind their parent's back. Even if many of those people are bots online, I suspect some actually do believe that there is nothing wrong with changing the gender of a child.

How uneducated they are. How ill-informed. How ignorant.

"Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do."

I don't know if we can forgive some of these people. I don't see how we can co-exist with them.

I wrote a list a few days ago of all the things I want in this world. 

Here they are:

1. Have dinner with Max Igan
2. Play poker with Jeff Berwick
3. Go for a walk with Jeff's dog Lucy
4. Coffee with Lena Paille (Erica Campbell)
5. Sitting on a moonlit beach next to Karlee and watching the stars
6. Meeting Tyler in Missouri and his cow Thera
7. Being visited by Yeshua/Jesus
8. Owning a green Jeep Wrangler
9. Receiving a cheque for millions of dollars from the lottery
10. Getting new hearing aids
11. Getting my Polish passport back
12. Owning my own home in the country with a tire swing and a wooden back porch
13. Seeing a sloth
14. Playing with a dolphin
15. Owning a golden retriever
16. Meeting a koala bear
17. Having millions in the bank
18. Curing Karlee of Type 1 diabetes
19. Publishing a book called the New Bible of Man
20. Getting into good physical shape

Out of all of these, only the last one is the most realistically attainable and I don't have any means of getting into shape without a gym membership, equipment or any privacy at home.

I'm tired of saying that I am tired of all this but I am.

So tired.

The words of Pastor Len sometimes come into my mind. His voice running through my ears.

"God has a special purpose for you."

Well.

What is it God? What is that purpose? This? Where I am right now?

Destitute? 

Living with my mother?

No hope? Losing almost everything I owned?

Was that the plan? 

I know what I want and this life isn't it.

At the very least, I am happy for some of my memories. Some of the experiences I've had.

But overall...

It's not been great.

This blog has been kept for over ten years now. I wonder what it would look like to read from the beginning to the end. Whether or not I came across an arrogant asshole and whether or not I deserved all this. 

At the very least the words are memorialized although I don't know who it would benefit to be reading any of this.

Not a lot of positivity in this blog of mine. 

I wonder sometimes. What have I done to deserve all this? How many tests have I failed? Which ones if any did I pass?

I keep thinking I should have walked away from my ex weeks after meeting her but I understand why I stuck it out. 

I keep thinking I should have sold my stocks on that morning but I understand why I hesitated and didn't.

I keep thinking I should not have trusted my intuition and packed up all those items to take with me to St. Paul that one day. Losing my passports in the process.

I keep thinking that I'm...

I'm a good man. I'm cynical and sometimes bitter and impatient at times with people who I felt should know better but I realize that I was attracting the wrong type of people. I projected myself onto them. Thinking they are able to think like I do when in reality most of them don't.

I've never fit in anyplace here. I can't remember really "belonging" someplace and living my purpose.

It was writing that helped me through some tough times before. It was writing that gave me dreams to believe in.

Now I really don't care to write. Not much imagination left. Not many who would appreciate it and not many who would care to read the words I write. Perhaps I am making assumptions but publishing any kind of book these days and pouring all that energy into it often goes unrewarded.

I still play the same numbers in the lottery. 1, 6, 9, 11, 25 and 44. I know if those numbers come up, then God's "special" plan for me has been realized. I have been praying that if those numbers hit, it means more than being financially secure, it means that I have been listened towards. That I am cared for. That I am loved in a life where I felt so little of it.

So little that I craved it. Getting into all the wrong relationships hoping for it to be reciprocated. Pouring my heart into the wrong type of women.

I'm past that now but it still hurts. Especially with Karlee. Who's spirit mirrors my own.

I really wanted to help make her dreams come true along with mine but I was too.. 

Too ashamed of myself. Feeling unworthy. Under pressure. Guarded. Guarded because I did not want to reveal how screwed up my life really is. 

She is such a beautiful woman. Imperfect, but I love her soul. Her spirit.

All I really have love for right now that I can express is towards my mother's cat Princess. 

I...

I want to change the world. Which reminds me as I typed those words that a woman told me those same words years ago with my ex when we first entered their Airbnb in Calgary.

"YOU ARE GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD!" she exclaimed, pointing at me as I walked through the door.

I didn't know what to say about that. I was perplexed.

That makes two people who think I am going to make a big enough difference in this place.

But I can't seem to right now. Not in this situation. Finances dwindling. Unable to build up my self-esteem and my energy and to buy and cook my own food. To travel. To meet new people and see new places.

A miracle needs to present itself otherwise I am going to have to admit with certainty at some point that I will not make any difference in the world and that I am ready to move on. To erase myself.

I remember for years how I wanted to change the world. Wanted to write that book, "A New Bible of Man" where it would compile useful ideas, quotes, parables and examples from multiple authors of how we can change the world by changing ourselves.

I'd love to have that opportunity.

But the list I wrote above needs to be fulfilled. Starting with #9.

I can't survive or do anything without money. I refuse to get a minimum wage job and commute and collect hundreds of dollars per week, hoping to save up enough for... for what? 

For what?

My credit means I will not be able to buy my own home. I don't even know if I can rent anything.

I can't keep driving this Jeep I have. With the engine block light constantly on. Using as much gas as it does and the terrible suspension where I feel every bump in the road. The intense heat that pours out through the vents. Even in the summer.

I have no way of cultivating creativity within a dead-end job. I learned this the hard way many years ago. Work is draining. Both physically and mentally.

My imagination needs to come from nature. From music. From books and observing and taking in the beauty of the world around us. Connecting myself to the divine that which is within me,

I cannot connect to anything but self-preservation at this point. And disassociating myself through endless distractions means I cannot cultivate any energy or imagination.

I find myself caring less about everything including the food that I eat. I used to dread my mother's cooking. Now I have no choice but to eat what is given to me.

I cannot enjoy a candlelit bath with music and a wet cloth draped across my eyes. 

I cannot ground myself on the grass outside because we have no grass and winter is coming.

I cannot imagine how am I going to survive this winter, stuck inside of this house. Smoking cigarettes one after another and looking at negative videos and news on my phone because I refuse to stare at a television screen and be entertained by fiction.

It takes a miracle at this point to reverse it all.

A miracle that I am open to and willing to receive.

Let me have that opportunity to change my world, my family and the people I care about.

Then I will change the world. 

I don't need a fancy car or material possessions. 

Just a green Jeep Wrangler. Some books. Vinyl records and a turntable.

There is so much that I miss of my old life. Having a garage to pull into so that I wouldn't have to scrape ice off my car. Having grass I could stand on and a garden to maintain. The privacy of being able to fry bacon in the nude.

I miss all of it.

I miss my sense of humor. I understand there's little to laugh about these days.

But I know that the real me is not gone. It... it is still there. Buried, but alive.

I ask God to read these words. The Creator. Whatever intelligence is out there.

I prayed to you most of the nights of my life.

I was not delivered from temptation or from evil.

So what was the point of it all? Taking personal responsibility? 

Not believing in God but believing in myself? In humanity?

Maybe I was praying to the wrong deity.

I don't know. 

But God has a special plan for me. 

And I am meant to change the world.

However.

Time is running out.

I can't wait much longer.

Come.

Prove to me that my life wasn't lived in vain.

Prove that I am loved and watched and cared over.

Guide me to my true purpose.

Reveal to me the mysteries of my being.

And yours.

I have spent most of my life searching to know.

The journey will soon end if I do not receive any answers.

Because I refuse the alternative. Over twenty years I have endured much at my job. Dirt, sweat, tears.

I've done my time.

Now it's time for you to do yours.