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#Post#: 37083--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: guest1170 Date: January 18, 2019, 12:43 am
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Wouldnt want the misery of being rich for me... Wanting/getting
things is just an affir ation of lack anyways. Nothing wrong
with money of course, but... Meh... In the end its all the same
sh.it, wether you are a billionaire, a millionaire or have just
enough to live by. Sure, If you are rich you can fu.ck prettier
women, get attention from the crowds, perharps eat nicer food,
have an yatch, whatever... But It still doesnt change the fact
that all thats needed for living is food, shelter, clothing and
entertainment... The rich man still lives life like the common
man,(goes to the bathroom, eats, sleeps...) but in a fancier
way... and the price of the fancier lifestile is misery and
having their systems burning due to overload... Thats all
As for depression and despair, It only happens If you still
think you are an entity living inside a body-mind. For Awareness
its impossible
#Post#: 37084--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Jed McKenna Date: January 18, 2019, 3:26 am
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;) ;) ;)
#Post#: 37086--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: guest1756 Date: January 18, 2019, 6:44 am
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Thanks for the words so far, please post more if YOU can. Thank
you.
#Post#: 37088--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Prashant Date: January 18, 2019, 11:06 am
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Thanks Sandra for sharing.. :)
Best wishes,
P
#Post#: 37089--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Sandraanne Date: January 18, 2019, 10:14 pm
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@guest1756 I will, just a little while. Love you, Sandra Anne
#Post#: 37099--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Sandraanne Date: January 21, 2019, 8:05 am
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Dear Readers,
I guess the "time" for this chapter is here. I'm going to have
to post it in a couple posts because of the length.
Another Chapter Three
Let's be clear, that all this 'stuff" I say I went through never
really happened. It was in my imagination and that's all. It
is quite simply, just a story. It may be a funny story, or a
tragic story, or even a stupid story, still just a story. It's
not even "my" story. I was not the creator or even the dreamer
of this story, because neither of those things actually exist.
Even so let's get on with the story.
Well, as you can see, things were just not really working out so
well for me. My children were pretty happy most of the time and
that's about the only positive thing I can say about the whole
mess. So there I am, I'm not going along with what all the
other people are going along with, so you know I'm a real
outcast by this time and in a way so are my children. My real
problem at this point is that my children are just still so
young that I can't work without having someone else look after
them and I can't find anyone to look after them that will go
along with my ideas that looking after my children means they
are free to do what they want and your only job is to make sure
that they are safe from harm and having a good time. They don't
have bedtimes or mealtimes, or school work or anything of that
nature, and they are calling their own shots as to what they
want to do at any given time. Even so on a physical level, we
had to do things just to survive, to have food to eat and a
place to lay our heads at night and for those reasons only we
sometimes had to "behave" ourselves lest we be discovered as the
outlaws we were and hunted down. Other than that we did a lot
of running around, going nowhere and doing nothing of any
importance to anyone but us.
We had all but given up on the whole "school" thing except that
I was haunted by fears that I was the crazy one and not all the
people who were hurting children in ways that seemed utterly
f***ing apparent to me but no one else. Being the "crazy one"
is, well let's face it, not the easiest thing in the world to
live with. It's one thing to be 'crazy" when it's just you but
when you have these children that you feel responsible for, like
you feel you are responsible for their entire future well being,
it is a real ugly animal not to mention that there are actually
laws in place against treating your children with respect and
letting them do what they want and be what they are. When I say
the whole world is against that, I mean just that, but let's
face it the consensual dream that's going on now is beyond crazy
but that's the nature of dreaming when no one knows they're
dreaming.
I did not "know" I was dreaming either at the time so to say the
whole thing was painful would be an understatement of the
grossest magnitude. I had to fight myself tooth and nail, day
in and day out, not to conform to some kind of standard set by
the society I was living in.
At any rate, as fate would have it, we are back at my mother's
house and my mother has finally agreed to let me live there and
register my children as "homeschooled". The kids can read and
write but aren't interested in doing any "school work" so to
speak even though I'm trying to get them to do a few pages of
you know math and grammar, every now and then, without pushing
too much, to keep the wolves at bay, and my mother happy. At
least this way, I don't have to work and I can stay with my
children and make sure they are free from harm.
So one night in September, for some reason I go online to see
what Eckhart Tolle is up to and just for the hell of it I click
on the "events" tab even though I know I don't even have enough
money to put gas in my car to drive down the lane. I see that
he is going to be speaking in Washington DC next month and for
some unknown reason, I go downstairs to watch TV with my mother
in the family room and I say to her, "you know that guy Eckhart
Tolle that I like so much, he's going to be talking for a night
in DC and I want to go. I'm going. I don't know how I'm going,
no idea, but I am. I have to. I'm just letting you know."
Enter Universe cutting you a break, my mother who is drinking
and really drunk at the time slips totally out of character and
says "yes you are. I'm going to pay for it. I want you to buy
the best seat available too. Whenever I went to the theatre, I
always made sure I had the best seat as close to the front as I
could get. You never want to sit in the back where you can't
see., might as well not even go if you have to sit in the back."
Then she says "I don't care how much it costs and goes and gets
her credit card and hands it to me and says "I will watch the
children for you" and I just look at her and think "Who are
you?", and "What have you done with my mother?"
So right away, I quickly buy the best seat I can still get which
is like four rows back from the stage and I buy an airline
ticket to DC just in case she sobers up and changes her mind.
Now I don't want to leave my children for any longer than I have
to so I make it where I fly in the day of the show and the
soonest I can fly back is at six in the morning the following
day.
Your wish has been granted. After that I start re-listening to
every talk he's done that's available for me to find online.
Now on the day of the event I wake up at like four in the
morning and I have to drive two hours to the nearest airport.
Right before the city, I hit a traffic jam, no worries, I'm
listening to Eckhart Tolle talks downloaded onto my phone and
wired to my car radio, so I don't panic. I don't have a lot of
extra time but I have some. It's not as bad as I think and I
make it to the airport in plenty of time. I don't have any
luggage to check because I'm not staying very long so I'm just
carrying a small backpack. So I fly into DC and take the train
into the city. I have some time so I go by the White House and
some tall white thing and take pictures of them to send to my
kids because it's the same neighborhood and within walking
distance of the theatre. It's a beautiful day, the sun is out
and it's nice and warm enough to take off my sweater. I'm
excited. I'm feeling quite nice and whole world just feels
right to me for a change.
Before the show, I stop in a sandwich shop and grab something to
eat and then I'm at the venue in plenty of time before it
starts. The crowd outside is friendly and I talk with a few
people about the area. Once inside I find my
seat, and I'm pleased with how close I am to the stage. To the
right of me is a lesbian couple whom I chat with and to the left
of me is a good looking single man, but right before Mr. Tolle
comes on stage the man gets up and leaves and never comes back
which is curious to both me and the couple, and gets us chatting
because we are all like "how could anyone leave this?" Anyway,
the show starts and I can feel the energy, there's something
happening to me while he talks, I can't say what that was
because words fail here, but I "remember" the feeling as the
same one I had during those two weeks years before now when "I"
disappeared. This "feeling" or "this something", I don't know
what it is but I want it, I want to "keep" it. It is peace,
happiness, and well being.
So the show ends, and I don't want it to. I never want it to
end but it does and I say good-bye to my new friends sitting
next to me and I exchange emails with one of the ladies. They
are sorry that they can't offer me a bed for the night because
they know I'm going to sleep in the airport but they live an
hour away. I'm like no worries, I am not worried about
anything. When we exit the theatre it's dark outside, so I find
my way back to the train station and take the train back to the
airport to wait for my flight out in the morning. I spend the
night in the airport lobby, the chairs are plastic and hard so I
can't really sleep though I try to close my eyes when I can.
All the people passing by are friendly, they all smile at me so
the whole place just feels welcoming even though I'm tired by
now and it's been a long day. The long night passes by
uneventfully and I fall asleep on both the planes home but they
are really just short naps so when I go to drive home it' s a
real struggle to stay awake but I make it without stopping
because I'm anxious to get back to my children. And nothing
happens. I'm still the same person I always was and the feeling
fades.
A week later my mom is on my case again because she doesn't like
the way my children are allowed to do whatever they want, why
don't I give them chores at least she suggests, they can't just
hang around and have fun all day she insists, how will they ever
learn to make a living if all they know how to do is have fun
and do what they want. I don't have the answer to that but then
I don't see anyone really living in any meaningful way so wtf.
I try to just ignore her because I've learned by now from Mr.
Tolle that it's the "painbody" in her trying to activate the
"painbody" in me and I try to resist that but her anger is so
extreme that I sometimes succumb to engaging her. Either way,
it doesn't seem to be working out because I'm afraid that my
children will be affected by her unrelenting criticism of me and
she's periodically a binge drinker. Still, I try to keep the
peace but this just seems to anger her even more, and one night
she gets drunk and starts screaming at me so I take my children
up to our bedroom and I lock the door. She is really going off
this time, and she comes up and bangs on the door screaming "Get
the f*** out of my house. I don't want you here. Why did you
come back? You are a f***ing loser. You are a terrible mother.
Your children are going to be losers with a mother like you.
Get out. Get the f*** out of here" and we all sit huddled
together in our room waiting for the storm to pass because this
isn't the first time this has happened.
Her tirade goes on all night however, it's the worst one ever
and she even goes so far as to try to break our bedroom door
down by throwing her body against it and when that doesn't work
she gets a screwdriver and tries to unscrew the doorknob and
break in that way all the time cursing and screaming at us in a
drunken rage to "Get the f*** out of my house now, right now. I
don't want you here." The children and I are just sitting in
silence looking at each other and shaking our heads thinking
"she's insane." Luckily for us she doesn't get in and we just
stay there perfectly quiet and wait for her to make her way back
downstairs to pass out which she eventually does.
The next day she stays in bed all day and doesn't say a word to
us because she's so hungover and I cautiously go in her room
several times to make sure she is still breathing because it is
so quiet. Then I write an email to the ladies that I met in DC,
I have already been emailing them but I decide to write an
honest email about what is really going on in my life because I
feel stuck. I don't have any money to go anywhere and I can't
bare the thought of another homeless shelter because in a lot of
ways they are worse than this place and I don't like the rules
there either or how the children have to stay quiet and be
forced back into school because that's always a requirement so I
resolve to just make the best of it when enter "the universe
cutting you a break" yet again.
#Post#: 37100--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Sandraanne Date: January 21, 2019, 8:07 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Another Chapter Three continues....
I get an email back saying they have all discussed my situation
and it's come up because the sister of one of the ladies happens
to live in the house right next to them and once a year she
leaves for six weeks to live in another home she has somewhere
else and since she won't be there anyway, she is offering up her
home to me and my children to live in, free of charge, so I can
get out on my own. Food will also be provided while I"m there
and the two ladies live right next door so they will be my
"support" through this "transition." Are you kidding me? I
just don't know. One of the ladies is a practicing psychologist
so yeah this is basically unheard of.
Even so it takes me a day or two and I secretly start packing
and getting organized for the umpteenth time and decide what
will go and what I'll have to leave behind. We have moved
around so many times and have lost so much stuff I'm used to it
by now and so are the children as I go through everything and
ask them "Keep it or trash it?" Surprisingly for all we've been
through, once we lived in a tent for three weeks, the kids are
anxious and ready to "get the hell out of here." To our
advantage, when it's time to go, my mom gets drunk again and
spends the day completely unconscious and passed out in her bed,
so I can make my escape without having a confrontation in which
she will ask me "Where do you think you are going? This is it
Sandra. I'm all you've got. You can't make it on your own,
that's why you keep coming back here. Well, if you leave again,
just make sure you really do never come back, I'm tired of all
this, you come here and turn everything upside down, your kids
leave a big mess everywhere, and what do I get out of it all,
nothing." How many times I've heard it, I don't remember but
it's never pleasant so I'm quietly and as quickly as possible
loading up the car to make a clean get away." Earlier while she
was sleeping, I went in her purse and found $300 which I needed
for gas and food for the kids. (Sorry about that, Mom, but you
left me no choice and I doubt you'll even miss it.). My car is a
real piece of **** and I can only cross my fingers that it will
even get us there.
Everything goes as smoothly as possible and just as the kids are
coming out of the house and getting in the car, my mom comes out
the front door and sees what's going on. She can barely walk
and I hate to leave her in that condition, for a moment I just
feel so sorry for her, and for leaving her all alone in that
house again but once she starts screaming, "Oh, leaving again?
Where you going to go this time? You know they're going to take
those kids away from you one day and don't blame me when they
do. And don't come back. Don't you dare come back. If you
leave right now, don't you ever come back. You hear me, don't
come back", the drunken slur of ugly words trail off behind me
as I drive down the noisy gravel drive and under my breath I say
" I won't" and "I swear on my grave I never want to see you or
even talk to you again as long as I live" and away we go.
That was the last time I lived with my mother in my mother's
house.
I drive all night, I can't afford a motel room so I'm running on
energy drinks and coffee and a single hour nap at a rest area
but I make the trip and less than twenty-four hours later I am
over a thousand miles away and they meet me at a gas station and
I follow them to the home we will be living in for the next six
weeks. It's a beautiful two story log home set on a beautiful
wooded piece of land. The inside is like new, modern, and
warmly furnished. In the kitchen we find a table full of food
with lots of children's snacks laid out for us but we are told
we can help ourselves to anything we like and the pantry is also
full of food. One of the reasons we all thought it was viable
for me to make a good start in the area where these ladies live
is that there is a casino in the area and that was my profession
before the kids were born and I have a lot of experience in the
field, I deal all the games there are to know and I've always
been damn good at what I do.
Long story short, we had a lovely time for six weeks, really
lovely, the ladies were super nice but the casino wasn't hiring
dealers only cleaners so I became a cleaner for awhile which
sucked and didn't pay enough for a family of four to live on so
after the six weeks were up we lived in a one room motel for
three months. One of the ladies gave me $1000 for the motel for
the first month to keep us out of the homeless shelter and when
Christmas rolled around we spent it at their house where they
had gifts for all of us under their tree. My gift was a
beautiful meditation shawl which currently hangs on my wall as a
decoration. Eventually I was able to rent a run down house in
an ugly part of town and the government helped me out with
childcare expenses and food stamps because jobs like that don't
pay enough but you know they are so happy you are slogging away
at a job that makes you want to jump off the nearest bridge that
they'll help you out just enough to keep you afloat. The only
significant thing that happened that relates to why I'm telling
this stupid story at all is that while I was at these ladies
house, I discovered a meditation online called Pure Awareness.
How or why I stumbled across it, I can't remember but I did and
I started doing it quite often because I noticed right away that
it had the ability to make me feel different about things. I
actually felt a calmness or something that made my day better.
How anyone without a minimum six figure income survives in this
country without a struggle is still beyond me but apparently
certain meditations can keep you from killing yourself.
As luck would have it though right before I jump, casino
gambling becomes legal in the next state over and they are in a
mad rush to get them up and running and get everyone's money so
I'm in luck. It's a hundred mile commute back and forth one way
but I get hired on the spot and I drive a thousand miles a week
for six weeks so everyday to and from work, I listen to Eckhart
Tolle talks over and over again. I'm working the night shift so
probably it was the only thing that kept me from falling asleep
at the wheel on the way home and it keeps me going, because I
NEED something to keep me going. Meanwhile, all I can think is
I've got to get this, I've just got to get this. Eventually we
get moved so my long commute ends and we have our own place
which is an old kind of cool two story brick row house in a
somewhat decent part of town. Rent is high in this part of the
country but I'm making good money now and I get a live in to
watch the kids. I offer free room and board, (there are only
three bedrooms, the boys share one and my daughter gets the
nicest one and they get the small one and I sleep downstairs in
the living room on the futon) wifi, and all you have to do is be
home by ten and sleep here five days week. Sorry I can't pay
you anything because I don't make that much money but after
going through a few flaky kids, I get a nice lady to take me up
on the offer and the kids are okay with her. She has her own
job which doesn't pay enough for even a single person to live on
in this town during the day and no social life. She's
overweight and just likes to watch TV and drink diet soda. She
doesn't really do anything else, doesn't cook or even clean but
my kids are beyond self sufficient by now.
I like my job now and the people there like me. After a short
while I get upgraded to the high limit pit and so my work is
rather easy. I don't have to do the grind work out on the main
floor so I'm not working my a** off. I don't have to deal craps
unless I get bored and want to because the crowd out there is
pretty rough. Mostly, I deal a high limit roulette game almost
everyday with $100 minimum bet which stands empty 80% of the
time except for the occasional rich guy so my job is mainly just
standing. There is no cleaning involved, obviously, so what
more could I want. I work the 10pm to 6am shift and 4 out of 5
days at 5am my supervisor tells me to take a 20 minute break and
then clock out so I get paid for the whole last hour so I'm
usually home before my shift is even over. I don't know why but
I feel like I'm being "handled with care" at this place,
everyone is that nice to me. The kids are fairly happy and we
get a dog. We are settled for the first time. I can shop at
Costco and the boys now have PlayStations, my daughter has an
X-box and I get a Kuerig and a Vitamix blender but go figure,
I'm still not happy.
Maybe I want romance I think, you know I could use some
attention so I try going out to a few bars and look around at
work. I try the online thing but never get past a few days
chatting online with someone. I can not relate to anyone it
seems. I don't know how all these people are satisfied at all
with what this world is offering and I'm now better off than a
lot of people. I just don't get it. I start needing a cocktail
on my days off, something to take the edge off this unhappiness.
Sh** I don't want to be here either. The future still looks
gloomy as hell. There's got to be something more than this.
I've got the kids but I'm lonely. I feel completely alone in
the world. I'm back on speaking terms with my mother and my
father comes to visit for a couple days and we have a great
time.
Then for some reason I remember a book called The Presence
Process by Micheal Brown. It was a suggestion to me from the
guy who held the meditation that I attended, the one where I
left myself at his house, now like five years ago. Anyway at
the time I bought the book and read it once then carried it
around for years until I gave it away to someone I thought
needed it more than I did. So I looked it up on Kindle and low
and behold it's now available on there so I buy it immediately
and read it again. I've tried to do the actual "process" I
don't know how many times before but I can't seem to make it
past even a few days of the required twice a day fifteen minute
breathing meditation part which is the whole process because for
some reason either the breathing part is too hard or I just
don't have that much free time. I'm determined to do the whole
ten week process this time though, ten weeks of breathing
continuously in and out through your nose without pausing for
fifteen minutes twice a day and the weekly required reading and
repeating of "conscious responses".
During the year I go through the whole 10 weeks three times and
what happens? My experience of life starts to change. Suddenly
I decide it's time to look for a better job in a better part of
the country, so I start applying online and I'm hired by two
casinos so now I get to "choose" where I want to go. So I take
the best choice and we move again, but this time we move to a
really "nice" house with three bedrooms so now all the kids have
their own room. I get a dishwasher, brand new washer and dryer,
garage and a big yard in a very nice part of town. Things just
magically seem to fall into place, when I need money to move, my
father asks me how much I need and I want to be comfortable and
not stress so I throw $5000 out there just for kicks and he says
"you got it", what? Totally unheard of, that's not my life, my
life doesn't work that way, my parents don't even like me but
now they do and that's how things are going.
And yet, something is still wrong though so I do the process
again and I revisit my Jed McKenna books. At long last I try to
do some spiritual autolysis. Then another job opens up and I
take that job and my income practically doubles so I have a
house built and I buy it. I buy a brand new car and another
dog. I buy my kids stuff they've never had before. I buy them
the latest iPhone as soon as it comes out. I buy all kinds of
shit. I have good credit so I get credit cards. Now I'm
sitting here, I have a great job, a great house, good food, I
have the fastest internet speed you can buy, the kids are happy
and doing things they enjoy, and I'm still NOT HAPPY! All the
things that I thought I needed are here now and it's not enough.
I have all the trappings of a "legitimate" life now. I'm
"respectable" enough on the outside and in the eyes of the
world. I can now conduct myself and walk around like I know
what I'm doing. But on the inside, I am still full of fear. Oh
my God, what is it going to take??? How much longer??? This
isn't it. This still isn't it.
I throw my hands in the air, in utter despair, and cry out to
the heavens, "For God's sake, what more do you want from me?"
It wants more. Much more.
Further....
#Post#: 37105--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Sandraanne Date: January 21, 2019, 7:27 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
So I thought I would share one of my first attempts at spiritual
autolysis with you, it's the one that I talk about doing in the
story that never ever even happened. I don't know, but it seems
to fit here. And if it doesn't well, so what, The thing is you
think you have a choice, you even think you choose to read this
crazy stuff but I tell you, you didn't, and don't, just like I
don't choose to write this or post this like you probably think
I do. That my friend, is how different it is, but to see it is
to set yourself free and everyone else you come across, like
just take a load off, and finally just sit down and know that it
really is okay and it always was.
S/A about 3 years ago
You have to start somewhere. You don't want to but you have to.
I have to because it just sits inside of you like a curse, like
a bloody curse, your whole life, my whole life I've been living
with this bloody hell inside of me and it just eats at you
almost every day. You know you try to be strong, you tell
yourself "be strong, be better, try this, try that, maybe if I
fast for two months, yeah that's what I'll do I'll fast for two
months and that will work, maybe that will work, it's worth a
try anyway, just clean the sh** out, get it all right the f***
out me, I'll do it, I can do it, I have to, I have no choice and
then, I can't do it, one day, two days, maybe even five, but I
can't do it, this is stupid anyway, I'm just hungry as sh** and
it's not helping anyway, the sh** isn't even moving, it's still
f***ing there, it's burning a hole in my gut. It's killing me
I know it is, it's killing me slowly and I can't stop it, and I
can't live with it either, so on to something else, let's try
this or something new or back to fasting if only I could get it
right if only I wasn't such a weak minded f***, I'd be able to
do it, can't give up have to try again, I try again and fail
again, always failing, I'm a f***ing failure. Isn't that what
my mother always told me? Yeah that was her favorite line what
a f***ing failure I was, failed daughter, failed wife, now a
failure as a mother isn't that the worst one, your ruining your
children she would tell me, why because I’m actually nice to
them, f*** her what does she know she failed me too she ruined
me good, it's bad when your own mother treats you like a piece
of sh** when your a kid and your own mother doesn't give a damn
whether you ever come home in fact tells you don't come home
because we don't really want you anyway, yeah that sh** is deep
it's wide and it's spread like cancer through your whole life
the whole life was wasted f***ing bloody hell.
No, I don't want to write, I never want to write but now I have
to because the sh** is just there, it's there and it wants to
come out and it doesn't care that I am trying to avoid it, I'm
trying to find another way to get out of this but I'm here now
and I can't get out of here because I'm not even here anymore,
I've gone to another place and I don't seem to give a sh** about
this world because I already know it's not even real. I know
already it's not real and my mother's not real either. It's all
just a mirage, I can see that already but the sh** is still
there. I'm not okay with the sh** because it's just overflowing
into everything and even though I know I'm different, I'm not
like anyone else I know, I'm not all wrapped up in this and then
that like lint stuck all over the place and for what? For what?
What's it all for? I'll tell you what it's for, it's for
f***ing nothing. There isn't anything out there or even in
here. What's that they say? No one here gets out alive? No
you don't but what they don't tell you is no one here gets in
alive either. That's the truth, you may be alive for your first
five minutes out of the womb if you even survived that noise
but you are basically born dead or at least half dead, for sure,
by the time you can tell someone your name you've been had,
welcome to the world of the walking dead. Is it any wonder that
there's a popular TV show with that very name? Of course not,
deep down people know that they are dead living in a f***ed up
fantasy land that will never satisfy them at all. It will be
one up hill battle after another, one f***ing problem after
another and no one tells you but you will never f***ing arrive
anywhere. You will not figure it out unless you wake up and
figure out what the truth is. The truth that you are just
living in a nightmare that has continued for f***ing ever. No
amount of success or money or love relationships can ever be
what you want, how can you even know what you want if you don't
even know what you are? Even then what you are doesn't even
want anything except to be known. But you can't know who you
are until you know what you are not. And you are not anything
that you ever thought you were, you are not even a person, that
is the lowest thing you can even be. I don't care if you even
think you are some generous, fabulous, loving, compassionate
person because if that's what you are what does that make
everyone else, a***holes? We are a**holes. Every single one of
us is an a**hole. We are all walking around trying to get
something that will fill the big black hole and nothing works.
The minute you think you've finally found something to fill it
up with the bottom falls out because the hole is f**ing
bottomless. You and your life are just a bottomless pit of
wanting and wanting to get from here to there and you never
arrive not because you can't get it together but because there
is no destination big enough to fill a bottomless hole. The
hole can not be filled. The only thing that can fill the hole
is to realize that this whole life is not even real. It's all a
delusion, but don't dare tell anyone that if you do figure it
out or you will be locked up in an insane asylum.
I'm alone. I can't tell anyone and I can't talk to anyone about
this. I'm starting to see that the sh** is not even real.
Seriously who can you tell that too. Everyone is living in this
f***ed up dream and they think this dream is all important and
it is to them. It's after-all, all they have but I start to see
things are just not really there at all. But what is the truth?
What is true? Here I am in that place, I don't know that
either. I'm in between, half on one side trying to peer into
the other side to see if it's safe to let go and cross over but
I don't even know what that means without being insane. If I
told anyone I would be insane so I'm alone now, but am I? What
if I can't even be alone? What if I am all there is and the
world is just what I've imagined it to be all along, what if
I've just imagined this whole thing and there really is no
world, nothing at all but what I see which isn't real, just
feels real and looks real, what if we are all just dreaming all
this up and what the f***, we couldn't have dreamt up something
better than this? Why wouldn't we dream up some nice
comfortable sh** instead of f***ing crap? And my dream life
isn't all that bad from the perspective of the American Dream.
I have a job, I have three great loving children, a car, food,
money, shelter, hell I'm about to buy my own house but I'm not
like the others I don't see this great accomplishment, like I
should be so proud of myself. I'm dying, I'm 51 years old and
my life is running out and the whole thing was a complete waste
of time, all that suffering and all that fear, omg how much fear
have I had to live through, f***ing fear is like a f***ing
curse, ripping your insides out everyday, f*** this sh**, I want
to know the truth. I don't know what the truth is but I suspect
this isn't it. This life is not the truth. Sandra is not the
truth.
Another day I'd rather not write, terrible day, nobody ever
loved me day, nobody ever will day, poor me, everyone hates me
and no one can love me, my daughter reflecting that back to me
at the store, pissed off that we are shopping at the discount
store, you f***ing loser you f***ing failure, that kind of day.
I loved a guy and he didn't want me, no one wanted me, they all
left when they found out who I was, they didn't want that, that
needy girl looking for love, hoping for love, no one wanted
that, nobody wants that kind of love, is that even love or is
that just a big dark hole that no one can fill, way to big and
way to deep, don't fall in there they probably thought, you will
f***ing drown. Away they all left one by one going away and I'm
alone again, always alone, alone in my deep dark hole, but wait
who was that girl? Am I just a girl or a woman now? Can I be
that story? Why am I just a story? Is everything just a story?
Is everyone a story? Why do I have be an ugly story or a sad
story? If I'm just a story can't I choose a better story? How
about a happy story with a happy ending? Or is that just for
movies and fairy tales? Hey no fair, I didn't get the
fairytale life and the fairytale love, I got no fairytale, what
the f***. I want the fairytale, not this other crap, I don't
want lack and loneliness and depression and sadness and poverty
and just holes in my life. My life is just full of f***ing
holes. What the f***? What did I ever do to deserve this sh**?
This just sucks and I'm so nice, I'm so nice to everyone and I'm
the one who gets all the holes? How the f*** does that work?
Unless...
Unless, no one gets the fairytale because it's not a story. You
are not real. You were born into a particular family in a
particular part of the world and you had all these imaginary
experiences and the story just wrote itself from the pieces that
were thrown it's way. But you are not a story. You can't just
be a story. You can't just be a f***ing story, even if it's a
good story, who the f*** wants to be just a story, stories are
for books and movies and television shows. Stories are not for
real life. Surely, you don't get pushed out into the world
through a birth canal just to live a story, how stupid would
that be? And all these years, you've been walking around
thinking you are this person, wondering who the f*** all these
other people think they are, well they look like they know a bit
more than you do, their stories look like they might be working
out or not, you know there are people with some stories that are
a hell of lot more f***ed up then yours. But if you are not
this story, this story of you, and your past and your thoughts
going all day and night long like a big monologue that never
says anything new, than what are you? Who are you? You could
have had any number of names or stories, well you could have if
you were born somewhere else to someone else, then you would
have a different story but it doesn't tell you who you are. And
everyone else is going around believing the story of whatever
story they have, they are all going around the same as you with
their own little or maybe big in some cases stories of who they
are and most of them aren't even all that different, same
issues, you can read all about them online, millions of people
popping pills to try to straighten out the story a bit, or at
least tolerate it better. Could the whole world be delusional?
All of us walking around believing stories that we didn't even
get to write ourselves? We don't even get write our own
stories, put whatever we want in the story so it can all work
out? No, they aren't even our stories, they are all just filled
with whatever crap got thrown our way because that's how some
other story was going. And no ones writing their own stories
either, nobody is writing their own stories but you know you
have to be responsible for your own story no matter who wrote it
but you can't because it just keeps writing itself after the
initial storyline has been laid out. Sh**, how long do you have
to live to finally be able to be in control of your own story?
I think you can't, it's not possible, because once a story
always a story. It is after all just a story. You don't read a
novel and then put it down and come back and read it again only
to find out the entire plot has changed. Once it's down on
paper and sent to press the story doesn't change. F***, the
story of the world hasn't changed AT ALL. We are still just
going around like a bunch of f***ed up stories sticking to our
stories. Maybe there's no such thing as a good story, in every
story there's a problem or a villain and then it either gets
resolved as in fairy tales or it's just another tragic ending.
Death is always the ending. Everything eventually ends in
death, end of story.
Is that the truth then? I don't know but f*** the story.
I'm done reading now. I could read more but what's the point, I
could just keep reading my whole life and don't get me wrong I
love to read, and it's very useful for some things and also an
enjoyable pastime as far as pastimes go but if I want to find
the truth, more reading isn't going to help me along right now
anymore than posting funny memes on Facebook is which by the way
I love to distract myself with way too much. Of course, my ego
loves it because it takes up so much time, there's no chance of
really getting into this writing to wake up thing which it knows
will be the death of it. Nothing in Maya's world actually wants
to die after all what would or even could want to be
annihilated? Certainly not the all important self, no it
doesn't want that all. It only wants to feel good and even
better to look good. It would love nothing so much as to tell
everyone "see I told you so", I really am f***ing great and f***
you for not noticing it sooner or for telling me otherwise. You
should have seen that I was smarter than you and that I was
special. But you didn't and now I'm great and f*** you. There's
absolutely nothing more painful to the ego than thinking it is
less than someone else in any way. That is the biggest "it
sucks to be me" thought it can have but as far as thoughts go
it's actually infinitely more useful than the going around
thinking you are better than the others because it never wants
to see beyond a thought that makes it feel good, after all isn't
"feeling good" what we are all chasing after?
I'm at work now and instead of Facebook I decided to write
tonight or at least try but don't I look so good here with my
nice keyboard and all and what do I have like ten minutes or
fifteen at most left to my breaks. This will most likely be a
pointless undertaking but I really feel like I should get in the
habit of looking for the truth no matter where I go or what I'm
doing to I guess see how it goes. Of course, this job is what I
do for money and that's it, if it wasn't for money you can bet
one hundred percent odds that I would not otherwise be in this
place. It's a precarious kind of job too because I'm a casino
dealer and my money comes from tips so it matters greatly
whether people are winning or losing and whether or not they
feel like sharing any of it with you. It's a great place to
people watch and it's a great place actually to watch how your
ego reacts to either winning or losing the bets that people will
make for you when they feel like it. On the one hand, if
someone makes a bet for you and you lose it, meaning if they
don't win, you don't make any money and it goes into the pocket
of the house and/or casino you work for you think well that
sucks and why did that happen and if you do win and you get to
make money, you wonder again why did that happen and how can I
make it happen again. (And again, and again, and again.). Or
like what just happened on my last rotation, a player will come
up and just b*tch at you that they never win and why don't I let
them win and I'm watching my ego as it gets out it's imaginary
sword and swings hard and decapitates them while screaming shut
the f*** up. I could feel the discomfort as they just went on
and on and I'm standing there dealing cards to them thinking,
it's going to be my pleasure taking all your f***ing money you
stupid f***. This is a normal occurrence amongst dealers but the
difference is I'm standing there aware of the discomfort and of
the thinking and I'm thinking that's my ego being activated and
I'm just smiling because I can feel it but I know it's not real.
I know that self is not real.
#Post#: 37106--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: Jed McKenna Date: January 21, 2019, 11:46 pm
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Thanks much for sharing Sandra.
Love ya, Jed.
#Post#: 37110--------------------------------------------------
Re: Sandra Anne's New Book (currently untitled)
By: guest1055 Date: January 22, 2019, 1:41 am
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Loved the part about the imaginary sword, hilarious
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