I've had enough. Enough days sitting alone in my car distracting myself all day long with podcasts, videos and articles trying to figure out the state of the reality we are in.
I've had enough of all the horrible signs that are so clearly before us. Signs that I've long prepared for but failed at the most crucial of moments to realize my independence and spiritual progression.
Had enough of not being able to eat the foods I want. The water I want to drink. The place I want to live.
I've really had enough of praying and visualizing and hoping for things that do not appear to be coming.
Had enough of thinking of the past and how good it once was. How small decisions would have changed my life dramatically had I realized their importance in the time I was making them.
I have had enough of sitting on my mother's couch all day long to go and sit in my Jeep all night long.
Had enough of this city. Never wanted to be here in the first place. I knew it was going to drag me down.
I knew being with my mother would drag me down.
And being broke and applying for government handouts and dealing with a bankruptcy.
It's enough.
I've had enough.
I wish my dad would have loved me more. Enough to care about my progression through life and encourage and teach me things.
I wish my mother had not treated me like such a child most of my life. Constantly undermining faith in myself. Making me second-guess my own judgement which I now realize is more informed than hers ever was.
I wish both of them would have given me the support I truly needed. Prepared me for the world. Gave me the confidence I badly needed as someone born with a hearing disability.
Wish my mother was...
I guess it doesn't matter what I wish for anymore.
Wish I could've hosted Karlee at my old place. Wish we could've drove to the NWT together and saw the Northern Lights. Wished I could have made her time her more memorable and fun than it was.
Wish God listened to me. Wish Jesus announced himself.
Wish I hadn't grown into the man I am now. Wish I would've bought my own place in the early 2000s instead of being fearful about leaving my mother's home. Wish she would've encouraged me to get my own place. Wish my dad did too.
I wish for a lot of things. Wish for my independence back. Wish my life was different.
Staring at the constant engine light in my Jeep. Smoking cigarette after cigarette.
Eating foods that I don't want and haven't picked out for myself. Feeling sick sometimes after eating and having to run to the toilet to defecate it all out.
Wish I didn't live in a cruel world like this. Not knowing anyone who thinks like I do. Nobody cares about what I care about. Except for some people online.
Wish I was by a beach. Surrounded by happy people. Or at a secluded cabin, sitting by a warm roaring fire with the woman I love next to me sipping on glasses of wine.
Having deep conversations. Listening to music that we both love. Appreciating each other in silence and in between the sheets. Feeling that warmth passing between our chests.
I've failed in this life. I've succeeded in learning the right things at the wrong times.
When has prayer ever helped me?
When has bargaining ever worked?
Why was it that when I decided to surrender my will to what I thought was God, bad things seemed to happen amidst the beautiful moments?
Why am I so lonely...
And why am I no longer caring about anything?
I guess I don't have much of a choice.
I just remember how much love and passion was within me. How vibrant my energy was. How imaginative my mind worked. How much I cared about people. How much I felt like I was going to make an important difference to the world.
Just like I was told I would, by random strangers.
And by the songs of my soul.
A knowing that lead to arrogance because I was insecure about myself. Didn't fully believe in what I could do. Arrogant to hide the wound I was keeping from people.
And bitter that the ones I showed my wounds to, liked me less for doing so.
Bitter that the women I didn't care about were ironically the ones that liked me the most.
And the ones that I liked the most, didn't care about me half as much as I did for them.
I'm bitter that I could see the bad things about to happen and prepared accordingly. Prayed every night. Did my best to trust my gut and intuition. Coming so close but falling short.
They say we have to learn to surrender. "Let go and let God".
That didn't work out well for me.
Despite how much faith I knew I had at the time. How hard I tried to surrender.
And... there is a... an intelligence out there. A force.
Something that is beautiful and loving and compassionate and vibrant and wise.
I've connected with it several times in my life.
Some of my happier moments was when I was by myself. On my solitary adventure.
I loved who I was.
The David that I cherished deeply.
The David that has been betrayed by forces unseen.
The David that should have kept himself grounded and balanced in his faith.
Not surrendering blindly to it.
This world never felt right to me. I've felt this since I was young without really putting into a concrete idea until I was in my early 30s I think.
Being born with a hearing disability, being an only child, being without parents that loved me.
Well...
Maybe my mother does love me but... her version of love is... does not match my own.
Love isn't staying with an abusive man for so many years. Kicking him out multiple times. A man that abused people emotionally and physically.
Why did my mother hate herself that much? Who would allow someone like that to be near her child?
I know why because she told me.
It was about money. She needed money.
Actually, she didn't need money.
She wanted it.
So she sold herself for it.
And...
Sighs.
It's a deep wound that I don't think will ever heal.
I loved people. Loved animals.
Loved music. Loved books.
Loved God.
Loved living.
Loved who I was.
And now.
I don't know what I love anymore other than Princess.
And Karlee, I guess.
I've known there was a spiritual war happening since 2020 and...
It feels like I've lost the battle.
How can I possibly recover from any of all this damage caused to myself?
No wonder I feel like giving up. There's no light. No future that I can see other than the long-shot of winning a lottery jackpot.
And I know that if I won millions of dollars, I would flinch spending the money. I would feel... this mix of guilt and gratitude.
I know I would have a purpose. To better myself. To better others that are of like mind and are in need.
But...
It's been over a year of waiting for a miracle.
I didn't think I would have made it this far.
Being inside of a prison of flesh kept within a prison of a home inside of a prison city on a prison planet.
Terrorized by freaks and Satanists who are in Government, media, educational institutions. Banks.
Churches.
I saw the world falling apart and here I am. Falling apart with it.
Not a ray of light in the sky other than the promise of the Messiah's return.
One that I am not proud to say that I am of standing good enough to welcome him with a smile and love in my heart.
I want to make Him and the Father proud.
But.
Right now I can't.
Being inside these prisons.
Can't even choose to follow my intuition. Can't drive to where I want to go.
Can't even appreciate the stars in a light polluted city sky because they are hidden from me.
Can't meet the sun each morning like I want to.
This hell I'm in.
Earth is hell. My aunt Sophie was right.
I wish I would've known sooner.
God... what are you? Who are you?
Where are you?
Where is your son?
Have we been lied to about that also?
Should we defer to a higher authority? It hasn't worked out since covid appeared has it?
I reject this sick system.
It is no measure of good health to be adjusted to living in it.
Yet many do.
And many seem to not notice what is going on around them.
But it looks like the chaos is becoming more noticeable. Immigration continues in unprecedented numbers. Inflation continues to rise. Politicians continue to be corrupt.
Money continues to be printed until the financial systems collapse.
Then, the matter of what will happen next will not be decided by us.
But, by them.
Those who have created the problem will offer us the solution.
And I already know that I reject the solution.
I think I am prepared to die. I would rather endure to the end and enjoy my final days in peace and with love in my heart.
But it is so hard to feel any love right now.
I don't want to deal with this place any longer. I don't want to become a dependent slave.
Even if I could manage some traction forward, I still will have to live here with my mother. Under her watchful eye. Not having privacy. Not being able to sit and think without noise or distraction.
To just sit in a bath and read a book with candles and music.
I miss those times.
Pulling my shovel out to clean out the walkway. Getting out to rake the leaves. Talking with the neighbors. Going for walks. Cutting my lawn. Nurturing my garden.
I miss those days.
And I realize that I should have demanded better for myself instead of settling down with the wrong type of women. Should have held myself to a higher standard. Realized my worth early.
And realized my role as a man in this life.
I guess I've learned a few things. A few things too late.
But at least I've learned them.
Should I die tomorrow, coming back to Earth is not going to be an option no matter what I'm told.
We've been lied to enough. Duality is not what we truly are. We are both light and dark.
I am a man with good intentions. One who has suffered.
And I've sinned.
But I'm still a good person.
I don't deserve any of this.
I don't know what to do.
Other than wait.
