Showing posts with label dreaming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreaming. Show all posts

8/13/2012

Day-016-Highway exit strategy's and the 'My way' Character




I was driving as a passenger in a car. We where on the freeway driving up to my place. As we got to about 20 miles from where I live I saw a familiar exit sign. Now this particular exit is the one I would 'normally' use myself when driving home. So without reflecting or checking myself in relation to the moment and person I was with. I hear myself say; "we can exit the freeway here as well".

Almost instantly my backchat kicked in; "Damn that was automated, I did not consult my companion in the matter, I'm such a fool, I'm doing it again, I'm fucking up" etc. All this happening in a split second. Not realizing that what I was doing was not cool and as always when something is fear related, this energy surge manifests in my stomach area.

My reaction to that road sign was totally automated and somehow I saw I was fucking with myself. At the last moment and already next to the exit I confront the driver with the point of having to make a split second decision. Confused by this sudden pressure the driver exit's the freeway. By now I know there is no way back and my mind shit is starting to hit the fan as I'm cramping up.

Looking back I can see myself suppressing this feeling of 'being wrong' before I can blink my eyes and within and as the mind start to produce justifications and arguments why taking this exit is 'no problem'.

Within 'no problem' is me having 'a problem'. 

So here I find myself going full retard again and I'm starting to see that I'm existing like this reactive behavior 99% of my time. Being already next to and almost past the exit gave the driver of the car only a few seconds to respond to my suggestion. I'm forcing a person into a situation I myself would feel pushed or stressed and that is not acceptable. It makes no sense whatsoever.

It then hit me that this person stated more than once not liking this particular route to my place and rather drive on the freeway. Subconsciously I thus already knew this whole thing was me creating this moment to create friction between me and he other person (succeedding flawlessly).

Within this I witness myself going into several self righteous ego–trips justifying my suggestion. My impulsive/compulsive reaction to the sign on the freeway is without any self reflexion or taking the other person into consideration. Confronting the other person with my mind possession is only about me.

So now I find myself in the car with someone within this energy play-out and at the same time I find myself suppressing my feelings of guild because I'm the one responsible for what is happening and the strangest thing is that instead of sharing myself and apologize for my behavior I start diminishing the problem with my arguments. This indicates that it's only about creating energy.

If I would have been self honest and self aware I could have asked the driver 5 minutes before the exit if it would be ok for this once to exit the freeway at this specific point. The answer would probably still be no, but the play out would have been different. End of story. Within this I see it's about getting things 'my way' no matter how small or seemingly insignificant the point. It's about competing instead of being equal.

I see myself participating and interacting within the world and people around me as a reactive mind. Reacting to my own projections instead of being here and aware of my participation within reality.

Reacting to that road sign was nothing more than a program I allowed to start running my life instead of being self directive within that moment. I ask myself how it is possible to live a life in this state of being not aware why and how I'm creating my own reality? It implicates that almost everything I do is not real and it thus starts with bringing myself here within every breath.

Another point is that being together with another person intensifies these realizations because I'm generally on my own and don't get that much feedback. The last week was spend with another person and within that the experience of myself changes drastically. To see myself go through the daily experience of myself as the mind creating behavior within these seemingly 'normal' daily matters without being self aware is such stupidity. At the same time I see this is a process that has to be walked day by day, step by step, breath by breath.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to escape reality within and as the mind and have an automated response to a road sign along the freeway not seeing realizing that I'm playing a trick on myself in order to create friction thus energy to keep me enslaved within and as the mind as this addiction to energy.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to drift of into my mind and not remain here as me as breath being on the freeway seeing a road sign thus allowing myself to become reactive and change the outflow of events at the cost of another being.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not take another person into consideration and put stress and pressure on that person forcing the person to make a split second decision realizing that within this I'm actually seeking conflict thus charging the winner looser program creating unnecessary consequences that forces us to time loop al the points realized.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to suppress this feeling of guilt knowing I just deliberately manipulated another person into taking a decision because I wanted things to go my way and within that allow myself to manipulate myself through using false arguments to justify my behavior

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not see/realize that it's unacceptable to abuse others through manipulation in order to get things to go my way.

I commit myself to identify and irradiate these automated reactions and characters I create allowing myself to miss moments in time thus creating backdoors for myself where things can go my way as the ego trick of the winner wanting to win as a gambler addicted to the game, starting new games regardless the consequences and without stopping myself within and as the addiction to energy and take into consideration what's best for all within the given situation.

I commit myself to establish through continuos effort of bringing myself here as breath, gift myself the gift of being self directive within not missing a moment thus an opportunity to sabotage myself as the manipulator as my mind that always wants to win by screwing things up for myself and others thus waisting everyone's time

I commit myself to identify the patterns of self sabotage I use to sabotage my process of becoming self aware as me as breath here in every moment.

7/03/2012

Day-012-I do perceive here a divided duty. Othello. ACT I Scene 3





The moment I finish my coffee I see the character that is my private self take a deep breath and leave the house to enter the world stage. Often that deep breath is my private character (the one I'm most comfortable with) realizing it has a few hours ahead to play as another character. And so my days are filled with acting out scripts that my mind as the director presents me with. I realize there is no self direction what so ever. Every scene I play is coming from the main character I call me. Where I hear myself say sorry that's typically me or I'm sorry that's how I am. Moments of total integration with the main character. A being in character.

In acting school they have a name for it called method acting. Becoming the character. What does that make me before I go into character, before another character? Where does it end? Is there a me or is it simply my mind presenting me with countless scripts and storyboards to choose from on a stage where I interact with billions of other actors?

From where or what do I go into character? If I'm not in character then what am I and where am I? It's a very cool point to look at because looking out into my world I see only projections of the characters I'm creating as reactions. My days are like a chain of improvisational sketches with the occasional passages I did memorize as I play 'the professional'. Within this I realize that growing up is ACTually going to acting school and working was the first serious role I played. I play the role of the father, lover, devil, demon, looser, etc. Played them all. My whole life is one big role playing game without ever realizing I was doing it. Totally forgot/suppressed what it is like to experience being here as breath without a script. What it is like to not re-act but to take action. The simplicity of walking by placing one foot after the other.

Isn't it completely absurd to look around and see that I'm only fucking acting out without ever realizing that this is not life. That I'm busy playing out predetermined scripts. I created so many characters I lost count a long the way and now I'm lost in wonderland talking to a rabbit.

I find myself lying on the couch as this lost character talking to a another character that plays the shrink. It's about time I start asking myself if all this acting I do is actually bringing forth something that is best for all? Can I ask myself? because that's like asking the director to give me another role to play.

Where do I start? How do I get to that point where I stop writing characters from the same alphabet to create scripts that have already been played by my other act-ore's a billion times? When do I act accordingly? Do I realize that nothing I do is act-u-all original in anyway? This realization for example is coming from me the character playing the observer. There is no realness here, I'm pixelated, recorded, projected and lost in the script presented by the internet at this very moment.


"I have to stop my thoughts" - character - it's a character because "I HAVE to stop MY thoughts" - then there's an I and a My and a "have to" - in this character, does one then ever really stop thoughts? The difference between character and Here, is a doing/living action in the moment, so whenever there is a statement instead of immediate application: you're creating a character" -


Sunette Spies


I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to judge all and everything as real not seeing realizing and understanding that all I see is characters forming words that make up the scripts that define the actors that live up and play to generate the pixels of reality where I'am lost within the play as the characters I play with.

I commit myself to observe myself as the characters I play in order to identify my ACTions to stop acting and become real as breath to remain here as breath and forgive myself for the creation of characters that cause physical harm as my projections of and as reality.

Links:
Breaking Character by Jozien Fokkert
Here

Personality suits by Heath Ledger
Part 1
Part 2

My life as a character by Maya Harel
Here

Stepping out of Character by Bernard Poolman
Here




5/31/2012

30 05 2012-I talk to much



I have been in this situation so often it's becoming ridiculous. I have to take this point by the balls because it's starting to really bug the hell out of me.  Ok, first of all it's painful to admit that I talk 'too much'! Yes I'm that person that starts talking and then you wonder what the fuck is this guy going on about? I'm the fucker that usually spoils the 'party'. Taxi we are leaving? I start and don't stop. I'm capable of having a conversation and then start monologging like a villain to a superhero. I'm aware I'm doing this. However I keep talking. WTF! Why is it that I know I talk too much? And why is my ego interfering at the moment. Because I didn't gave a perfect presentation of myself. I was not the man I wanted to present. I wanted to be something I'm not (yet). I didn't want to be that guy that talked to much. I don't even know if the person enjoyed my company. Could be or not be. Whatever the case I talked too much and I don't feel good about it and that is an emotional response so let me investigate that shit.

I know some people tend to find me interesting enough to start a conversation. I'm not rich, so they are not after my money. The looks? Don't think so. I don't have to hide myself but Tom Ford has nothing on me. All I know is that I have a mode where I talk to fucking much. Why? See me. Here I am. I have a voice. I do exist. I have an opinion. I'm capable of understanding fairly complex concepts so I'm not stupid. I like your companionship now let me entertain you so you be entertained. Don't leave your seat and please stay for the second act. Don't leave me in this empty theater called my restless mind where I don't know what to do with myself. I might have an overwhelming urge to present myself but I have a big enough inferiority complex to use as an excuse. Sorry that's how I am, can't help myself now let me be and swarm in self doubt, sorry, self reflection. That sounds much more grown up doesn't it you innocent ego you are.

I had a very pleasant encounter with another dog owner. We let the dogs play around and as we where sitting by the water listening to our dog stories we talked about dogs and we where enjoying the expression of the dogs playing around. It soon became clear that we had a openness we shared towards one another because It was very easy to talk. I didn't experience the reservedness I mostly encounter when I meet people in public. Often people are closed up and don't want to share themselves and it's a robotic hello, nice weather and goodbye. So as we talked it soon became clear we had some things in common. I was invited for coffee so we walked to her house where the conversation continued. We both are from the same village and it became clear we are related as family. Which explained the resonance I felt with this person. However as more and more facts where shared I somehow ignored the energy surge within me that came up as enthusiasm. I accepted and allowed myself to switch into that personality of myself as the orator telling stories because I want to tell the stories. I became A blabbering waterfall of verbal entertainment diarrhea. This person might have had a different experience I am absolutely sure I allowed myself to get possessed. I gave myself a finger and I had to take the whole hand.

So I cant help myself. Mmmmm. Well I can actually. Fuck! I have al the tools at my disposal. I can count to ten, breath, listen and observe myself. Why de fuck did that go down the drain tonight? I made a mistake (again) how to take the next take?

To be continued

5/29/2012

Day-007-I'm a cannibal

"The fear that is stress that become poison"




I woke up before my alarm clock. It was 05.10 this morning and the first thought that ran trough my mind was, 'that's less than 5 hours of sleep'. I realized that this was my first thought of the day and it was about value lol. So I breath brought myself back where I was. In bed relaxed. Birds where whistling outside. I became aware of my body. The state of relaxation my body was in and the tension in certain muscles because I played with the dog yesterday. As I opened my eyes listening to hundreds of birds twittering away outside I smiled because of the bizarre loudness they produced.

Then my mind switched on like a machine gun. I was not awake for longer then 30 seconds and thoughts about work ahead of me today started firing. As soon as this happened I noticed I was no longer here listening to the birds. Electricity as tension came up from my stomach and from there it spread into and over my entire body. My body went from fluidly relaxed to static magnetic within seconds as I focussed on the pictures in my mind related to the work that lay ahead of me today.

I thought about where I left my work last week and where I would have to pick it up today and how to get things done without getting completely drained and be able to work on another assignment I have at home. I allowed myself to go from awareness here in my bed listening to the birds to a projection in my mind projecting myself behind my computer a few hours from now drowned in my daily activities. I went from relaxed to complete tension within seconds and I noticed what this did to my body. It was quite a horrible experience and I realize I must do this almost every day when I wake up and switch on as the mind.

The moment I start thinking, me here becomes me there in the mind as thoughts connecting to images generating emotions as energy. In this case negative energy as stress I could feel manifesting in my body very clearly. All thoughts related to my responsibilities in daily life that relate to survival. It's where I experience fear as self judgement. Fear of not getting things done in time. Fear of underperforming. Fear of being judged. Fear I might loose what I have. Fear to loose as not to win. Not being 'good enough', efficient enough. Al this within the first sixty second after waking up into a body that was relaxed and I'm allowing it to go into complete tension becoming overpowered by the bombardment of energy generated by the mind as my fears.

This 3 dimensional tension, hardly noticeable but it's there and it's within every muscle of my body. So this is what happens to me as I go from the physical to the mind. I slowly kill myself as this subtle tension I allow to creep into my body. Me as the mind poisoning my physical body. Is this is how I kill my body slowly but surely as stress? Is this the slow suicide I accept and allow to become my daily reality.

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to value my amount of sleep as to much or to little

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not allow myself to become aware of my physical body within the physical when I wake up

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not give myself the gift of a relaxed body the moment I wake up and start my day

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to not allow myself to wake up into reality, instead wandering of into the mind the moment I wake up

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to project thoughts, ideas and emotions onto my day within my mind instead of becoming aware of my physical body when I wake up

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to let stress enter my body when I wake up which decreases my flexibility thus making me less flexible

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to let fear as projections within my mind manifest as stress hormones within my body knowing they will eventually make me sick and kill me

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to let my responsibilities become projections of fear related to failure before I am aware of my physical body when I wake up

I commit myself to check my physical body the moment I wake up. To breath and bring myself here as the first action after waking up because I see realize and understand that it is my mind that is addicted to energy that's consuming my physical body.

6/25/2011

Mommy's making mommy's


The pair ends
In the previous post I ran onto (fore lack of a better description) ‘my mommy point’. That point when one as a child starts investigating the world. Where you take a step outside the comfort zone knowing mommy is there to run back too when things go 'bad'. Exploring the world from a safe haven whereby one slowly learns how to cope with what the world throws at us. A way of building confidence by ‘failing’ so to speak. As we said in BMX: “learning how too fall is more important than falling”. You will fall so you better get good at it!

We all come from the one person that’s responsible for us all being here. A mother. We all had one and from there we created that what is here reading these lines. That what we accepted and allowed ourselves to become. Where is that line between where parenting ends and we become self aware, independent individuals? Individuals?

The word individual is interesting. It comes from the latin word Individuus, from in- ‘not’ + dividuus ‘divisible’ (from dividere ‘to divide’ ). Divided as “separated into parts”. Isn’t that what we call 'sorting'. Where do I fit in? In what category am I 'sorted'. How are my characteristics defined and when do 'I' divide into the individual?

A pair of them
As I grew older I started noticing everyone having particular parents. As a child this was strange to me. All I could refer too where my own mom and dad so that was the only concept of 'parents' I had. Later in life I started too talk about parents with other people. I was kind of shocked that there where people that where not so happy with their parents. I mean some would recall them as the best thing in their life and some would despise them. Then there where people that didn’t even know their parents. Parents, a 'strange' relationship. You relate too the parents you have and that's it. There is no choice.

I became aware that I was spoiled by my parents through people that where not spoiled by there parents. If you are abused by your parents you will know this trough people that where nurtured by them. We thus always see ourselves and others through the parenting that was done. It also means we are always looking into the past when we are interacting with other people. Seeing myself is no different. When I’m looking at myself I’m looking into the past. The place where ‘I’ originate from beginning with the womb of my mother. That moment where my mother and father where divided from individuals to parents. Where the pair ended and brought forth and divided.

What about cloning? Well cloning can only be done if there is genetic material that derived from a mom and a dad. So without parents no cloning and no human race. Parents are the essential ingredient to what we call humanity. As human beings we are always connected to our parents, their parents, parenting and thus too humanity as a whole. Strangely enough nobody seems to live this reality and I think that’s because we are 'individuals', we are divided. 

Very upsetting especially to a child the moment it become aware of this, which is mostly during puberty. The way kids get trough puberty and adapt to reality determines almost everything that’s going to happen later in life. So what does this tell me about the phase before puberty? Isn’t that phase the most important one in a child's life and what role do the parents play during that phase? Do they think about stuff like this before a child is born? Are we as parents and teachers fully aware of what a child is going through ones it’s stuck in this reality of adults? Do we as adults ‘listen’ to children?

My words are dead
As a kid I had a LOT of trouble adapting to reality. In fact I’m still in the process of figuring out what ‘reality’ actually means. At least I’m sure that reality is in our heads because that’s where we ‘think’ we are. So reality can be whatever we think it to be. It’s what we think of it.

We create reality through thinking and parenting and it’s all done from our collective past. Reality is looking into the past and seeing what we ‘the creators’ created. If I don’t change my present the future will look awfully similar to the past (maybe a little more futuristic). Apparently all the thinking, effort, prayers, wishes and best intentions of the parents before us couldn’t prevent the big fuck up reality is right now. We are doing a horrible job parenting this world and that’s reality as I see it.

For me it all boils down to the fact that ‘I do not live my words in this reality’! And that’s what I must have done in the past otherwise I would not be where I am today. I live in a self created dream I call ‘my reality’. An extension of my childhood where at one point I disappeared into my head and never came back. Where the boy became a man like all men that fuck(ed) this world into oblivion. How did I end up living this illusion?

Moms safety
When I was about 12-13 years old I became aware that I soon had too leave the ‘save’ little world of, my neighbourhood, friends and Lego. The daily routine of coming home to my mother after primary school. I remember doing tests in school and that teachers began talking with a different voice, all serious all of a sudden. As if the fun was now over. Fear the future children for now it gets serious. Yes it did. I had to answer these grown ups what I wanted to do with my life. What secondary school I wanted to attend. I didn’t had a clue.

My parents took me to open houses. We visited several schools and for the first time it hit me that I was living in a different dimension than they did. All I can remember before this moment was being a happy playful kid with a lot of ‘energy’, a rich imagination and no fears about the future. I never got bored and I always felt save. This sudden realisation scared the crap out of me.

The kid that was me had a head full of images that ran wild. Being a boy those images mostly had to do with men stuff. I remember being fascinated by technology. I wasn’t good at math but I could give a speech about Leonardo da Vinchi without preparing for it. So to me school was just another place to play around with my interests. I was fascinated by everything technical. Especially spaceflight and stuff related to flying in general. My childhood was about fighter planes, flying aces and big battles (exactly like my father). My parents allowed me too watch a lot of television. I think it was kind of ‘normal’ in those days. People didn’t have a clue about the impact of television / media. To tell a vision or Tell a vise. Interesting. At least we can see what television brought us. I saw a lot of things that where not ‘meant’ for children’s eyes. That's for sure.

Reading
As soon as I was able to read and owned a library pass there was a fresh stack of books next too my bed every week. At first it was all about the great wonders of the world. The pyramids, the romans, vikings, etc. But the thing that stands out from the beginning is my fascination with war. I was fascinated by weapons systems from the old. From catapults used by the romans up too bouncing bombs used in the second world war to the gunships used in vietnam. If there was a war movie on television I would wine and beg till my parents allowed me too stay up late too watch it.

I think my father ‘loved’ it. He was born in 1940 and had vivid memories of dogfights between German Messerschmitt’s and English Hurricanes and Spitfires in the sky’s above our village. He was also walking the streets as a four year old when the english mistakenly bombed our town and a bomb nearly killed him. I heard that story at least a hundred times. The sealing of my bedroom was completely filled with model airplanes. I could tell the story on all of them. I was that Steven Spielberg kid that would fly too the moon someday. If a plain would fly by I could tell you the type just from the engine noise. In school this often led to irritated teachers because when a plane flew by I would do exactly that. I was obsessed with aeroplanes and flying.

My father loved to talk. So any questions from me regarding history, aeroplanes, the war or whatever where always answered with elaborate and colourful stories. And I have heard his life’s stories a million times. At least I know I come from a rather 'eccentric' family. My father kind of was my internet. I got all the information on everything I wanted to know from him. If I asked a question he would talk every time all the time. He also loved to colour his stories. Making things more intense and impressive than they actually where. I sucked it all inn and eventually became exactly like him. My mother tried to equalize this stream of information but was no match to the oral tsunami my father produced. My mother had 3 dominant males in the house. It must have been a nightmare for her.

Mysteries
My father and ‘I’ both had a fascination with mystery shit like spontaneous combustion, the bermuda triangle etc. I read bookshelves on that stuff. One of the stories that triggered my imagination immensely was that of Flight 19 that disappeared over the Bermuda triangle. I read all this stuff between 8 and 12 years of age and I was able to dish it all up into minute detail.

I was also completely addicted too television. I remember seeing a lot of stuff that was definitively not rated ‘all ages’. Ratings didn’t even exist back then. I saw horrific stuff about the holocaust, napalm bombing in vietnam etc. The stories that made the biggest impression where those that had too do with fighter pilots and special forces. Especially stuff behind enemy lines. I remember watching Colditz a British television series that screened between 1972 and 1974. The series deals with Allied prisoners of war imprisoned at the Colditz Castle. I must have been around 6-7 years old at the time and I remember being very emotional and tears flowing as I watched a scene where a B17 and crew go down behind enemy lines. I think my parents didn’t have a clue about the impact television had on me.

Puberty
Was my full frontal collision with reality. My universe sort of collided with another. Everything changed the moment I had to go to High school. I felt completely alienated from my surroundings and literally everything hardened. It felt like concrete was poured into me. I had to grow into something but didn’t have a clue what ‘that’ was. I didn’t want to grow up. I filled my head with violence and fear. I wanted to fit in but couldn’t figure it out. I began too think that there was something wrong with me. I became an outcast in high school and was bullied extensively for more than 3 years.

It drove my parents crazy. Especially my mother. She became desperate. My parents must have felt guilty because they tried a lot of things to make my life ‘fun’. Through my own experience I now realise that what a child like that needs is living examples of how things work in this world and especially why.

In my last year of high school there was a bullying incident where I snapped and nearly killed someone. That moment was an eye opener because it had an immediate effect on the ones that where harassing me. They stopped! So from that moment on I started projecting physical confidence. It was the only way too create my own space. I could do this because of my sport which was BMX. BMX saved me from going nuts. The only thing in life that gave me confidence at that moment was BMX. So it was me and my bike everyday all day.

The Mother
Inside I was extremely insecure and my self image was one of complete failure and incompetence. To the outside I was a daredevil, a rebel and a troublemaker. Always pushing the limits. I was an extremely annoying boy to say the least. Always talking, always having the last word and stubborn to the bone. I pretended that I didn’t give a fuck and I camped in my head most of the time. A child like this today would immediately be diagnosed with ADHD, PDD NOS or whatever and probably end up in a corner medicated and drooling. 

Mother
mom |mäm|, noun informal, one's mother. Abbreviation of momma.
Imitative of a child's first syllables ma, ma.

Origin
Old English mōdor, of Germanic origin; related to Dutch moeder and German Mutter, from an Indo-European root shared by Latin mater and Greek mētēr.

verb [ trans. ]
1 [often as n. ] ( mothering) bring up (a child) with care and affection : the art of mothering.
• look after kindly and protectively, sometimes excessively so : she felt mothered by her older sister.
2 dated give birth to.

Looking back and seeing my mother I wander. Is there a mothering school where a woman can go before getting a child? No. So where do mothers get educated when it comes to raising their children? What does a mother want to teach her children and with what purpose? How many parents ask themselves these tricky questions in self honesty before sending their kids to schools full of old information? And if these questions are brought to the table, how many parents get solid answers? I think I stumbled upon a bit of a problem here and more than 150.000.000 children worldwide don’t even get educated.

Mother nature
In nature the program is simpler and able to sustain some kind of equilibrium that humans are unable to grasp. Probably because it’s too simple. A lion baby will be raised by lions within a group of lions. If the pup would start to behave like a hamster the outcome is predictable. When growing up, a lion kitten will learn to hunt and catch his own meat or it will die.

I think it would be the same with children if it wasn’t for the fact that they have human parents. Beings with complex and highly egotistical forms of ‘artificial intelligence programs’. So what can one expect from humans? Believe systems are programmed into babies by us the parents? Everything of the parents is projected onto the child. And in this world it means that the newborn is always loaded with old and incomplete information. The moment a child starts to think for him or herself he or she starts operating from the past exactly like the parents did. It's using their, morality, coping mechanisms, personality. This means we experience the same fucking bullshit our parents experienced again and again?

So that’s what happened too me, to all of us. There is no concept of 'equality' in our source code. It’s why humanity is not evolving but exploding. It’s why we are now experiencing a world on the brink of collapse. We are all running software that’s not 'best for all'. As parents and children we are all as individuals responsible for updating our operating systems. I mean we can all see with our own eyes what the old programs are producing just to clear the point. How can anything change if we keep copy pasting ourselves?

Stop recycling
Let’s all become software developers for the new world. At Desteni we focus on educating ourselves the ‘adults’ in this world that will eventually be having kids or not. Educating already existing parents to teach to their descendants how it is that we as human beings require an actual Education in consideration of each other as Equals. With actual practical application which implies an entire reform to the Educational system. A system which Is flawed and money-driven. As a consequence you experience the world as it is today.

Let’s make parents the actual teachers of this world to breed a world that’s best for all. Visit the Desteni I Process website to Educate yourself and Invest on Life Skills that can be practically applied no matter where in the world you are. Let’s make children the actual Future of the world: a World of Life in Equality for All.

Investigate the Equal Money System to see how Education will no longer be directed by money-making skills but Life Skills to LIVE and not merely survive.


3/04/2011

Bleeding the system

04 03 2011

Being infected
The alarm bel woke me up. I was in the middle of a dream. I was in a hospital and at the same time I had a new place a new house. My new place didn’t have floors anymore so everything was at ground level. The rooms had walls of glass. The hospital and this house kind of merged together. The house was like in the hospital. I was in the hospital with only 2 or 3 other people. They might have been nurses or doctors but I gave them little attention. The hallways where kind of dark but I could see daylight seeping through some parts of the building. I was there because something or things literally crawled under my skin.

Let it bleed
If I looked at my hands I could see them moving, causing my skin to expand. Small entities the size of match-heads moving rapidly trough the vanes in my body. I felt no fear I just looked at it and decided to open a blood-vessel to see what they where. So I did. I did it with a fingernail and it was very easy. The bleeding was extensive so I removed myself from the room where the doctors where. As I was walking trough the abandoned hospital I left a trail of blood on the floor. Somehow I did this on purpose. Let my arm hang down to support the bleeding. Looking at my other arm I could see no more entities moving. There was absolutely no emotion but the bleeding caused a big mess. There where no sounds just the blood dripping on the floor. I new somebody would have to clean it up again so I decided to catch the blood in a T-shirt instead of letting it run out on the floor.

Being Mike Lammers
Next moment I’m in my new house with one of the doctors looking for something and at the same time explaining why it is that my house has see trough walls. I don’t remember the explanation though. If this would have been a movie it would probably be categorized as a psychological horror movie. I had no fear in this dream, no emotions. I was merely observing and acting as an actor would. That’s it.

As I woke up the first thing I noticed was that my body was actually hurting allover with my neck, arms and shoulders in particular. A slight headache and dazed. Like I would have been if I would have been smoking weed the night before. First thing I wanted to do is switch of the alarm clock and sleep for the rest of the day. Even now after a good cup of coffee I could go to bed and be asleep within five minutes.

Reality is a hospital
The hospital is the outside world. The glass house is me. Although I can look trough the walls, I’m still not able to walk trough them. Looking trough doesn’t mean that everything is clear. There are reflections and images are warped as the light passes trough the class. I noticed that the house only had my essentials in it. That’s something that’s on my mind as well lately. Stripping my life down to it’s essentials. This is also the big point of conflict. What is essential?

I remember going on a holiday to France when I was about 18 years old. I camped out in the middle of nowhere for about a week. It surprised me how little you need when nature is supportive. There was a little river that supplied drinking water from the mountains and if I had my daily calories everything would be perfect. I was there and that was it. No television, radio, books. There, breathing and being in the company of plants and animals. Perfect.

But that’s not reality is it? No, reality is dealing with me, my glass house. Walls of glass. Should I take them down as well? And than there is the dark hospital. Where the hardware is treated. This is where the medicine comes from. Medicine right. This is where I’m poisoned with the drugs of reality. This is where I have to get my money medicine. It comes from a dark hospital with only a couple of nurses and doctors. They are not there to make me healthy. They represent the few clients I have supplying me with the essential money-medicine I need to survive the hospital. It’s a business deal just like a real hospital. As long as they make money of me I’m allowed to stay inn. The moment my physical body starts supporting me they replace me with another patient to do business with. It’s the antibiotics equation isn’t it.

Reality doesn't change
I think this sums it up. Me myself and my work. The process, my house and the outside world. A dark hospital where I get the little medicine to survive in the physical reality that’s called society, leaving a trail of blood as I go along. Bleeding the system. Getting rid of entities via the physical body because that’s the only thing I can trust.

And right at this moment my overweight neighbours start fucking. The noise they make seeping trough the walls is a great sound track to the horror movie I call ‘daily life’.