The Monsters Who Exploit Humanity

She had been away from posting for a while now and felt a need to be back on her blog.  She had continued to write but not publicly, she had needed  a private space, for private words.  She had been working with her shadow (Jung) and for some it is a difficult place to go.  For her it had been tremendously challenging and she had found herself in the deepest darkest most complex part of her psyche.  She had gone there and felt the sadness and sorrow, she had let it consume her very being and the cathartic release had been overwhelming.  And now she understood who she was, truly and with sincerity and she loved who she was with  the passion of love she used for her husband and children.  She had suffered the darkness and now came the light, she sensed it within her core and imagined it glowing from her every orifice.  Today she noticed the energy of the sun, the grass on the fields, the birds darting from hedgerow to field, swooping through the sky.  Today she noticed the beauty of the world and her children and knew there would be space for them in a world with too many people.  They would not feel as the intruder, they would feel accepted and loved by those who knew them.  They would know and understand their right to be here.   

Today there were angels everywhere and those people in the world who were driven by exploiting humanity would suffer.  The monsters in this world would not eat the tears of their victims, instead they would face up to their decaying behaviour, they would be named and shamed as the ogres who consumed humanity, keeping reality at bay and creating a false sense of truth for us all to be lost in.  Every culture has it’s modern-day myths and today those myths would be exposed and the victims of such atrocities would feel a sense of justice.

Today her hair was tied back because it was so greasy.  Her lips had lost their shine, her blusher pink.  She looked forward to being back in meditation school and taking her reflection to another realm, knowing her Self would come to fruition sooner rather than later.  Today she would rule the world and thanked Jung and Assagioli for their innovative thinking and dedication to the human psyche.  Because their theory has allowed her to understand.

Beyond Meditation

The Age of Aquarius

When life’s not going too well on this earth, humanities natural response is to look out into the universe beyond in the hope that out there somewhere in all that space there is an answer to all the atrocities that persist on a daily basis. 

Somehow, over the years she had managed to connect with violetness you see in this picture.  She had not search beyond the stars, there had been no telescope.  She had excavated within her self, persistent self enquiry had opened the universe in her mind and she had explored many a black hole.  The lights she had experienced on the way had been ethereal and esoteric, esoteric in a way that she was unable to really give any words to.  The picture was the nearest way to explaining her experience.  And as she sat with her eyes closed she was able to see beyond the blackness of her mind and climb into the depths of her lives both past and present, the nothingness of thoughts sat securely in the centre of her presence. 

 

Today she would not judge and remembered all those times when food had made her feel loved.  But knew food is food and love is love and somehow the two hand been confused.  Today she needed praise and today she got what she needed and she felt honoured.  Some people need it more than others, others can live life without it.  Today she really knew what it felt like to be acknowledged, to be seen and if she never felt it again, so be it.  Because today she had and that would stay with her for the rest of her superficial life.

Peaches Geldof meet Paula Yates

Watching Peaches Geldof with Ferne Cotton made me want to explore the tragic death of Paula Yates.  I remember at the time feeling the tragedy of her loss, leaving four young girls without a mum.  And right here I could explore the whys and wherefores of her ending, with the uncertainties of Hughie Green as her biological father plastered throughout the media and the suicide of Michael Hutchins all encompassed in an addictive personality which eventually lead to an accidental overdose of heroin.  

Ferne Cotton’s interview with Peaches was not the correct arena to explore the loss of her mother at such a young age.  Losing my mum at 17 was a young enough age, ten an impossibility to survive.  I would imagine there are many unanswered questions Peaches has, hence her interest in Scientology.  Answers of the unexplainable and I have searched periodically for an essence which fits my own spirituality – to make myself a better person.  I didn’t like who I was and desperately wanted to grow.  Now I know we must grow but grow slowly as my buddhist friend once told me.

I hated being 19 and I hated being 20.  My mum had only been dead 2 years and I still hadn’t worked out what was going on.  I envy Peaches as she appears to be a girl who knows what she wants.  She has a love for writing and how lucky she is to know at such a young age.  It wasn’t until I was 26 and had given birth that I realised my love for writing, my first short story, my experience of watching my mum die right before me.  Something I will never forget. 

And as Peaches mingles with the ruling elite her articles give us laymen’s an insight into a world beyond touch.  Ferne Cotton becomes a peasant as Peaches is use to interviewing people like Vivienne Westwood and Justin Timberlake.  And what do I get, mum’s in the playground and psychotic, schizo clients who even if I did interview, would ramble incoherently about buildings and all the demons in them.  But then I realise they are actually talking about the houses of parliament and maybe they are not so incoherent.

I can’t help but feel a sense of relief that 2 colleagues of Professor Nutt have quit and knew it would only be a matter of time before someone stood up to the bullying tactics of politicians.  I can’t help but get a sense of a totalitarian regime.  As mass surveillence encompasses our every move I sense my corset getting tighter, eventually so I may not breath for myself and the government will need to provide me with a machine to do it for me.  And as our state controlled BBC fragments life beyond recognition, with little for me or my family to relate to on BBC1 on a Sunday afternoon.   Forcing me to the otherside, consuming myself in an X factor culture I so loath.

My female role model

And as the myth of Wonder Women is exposed I now realise that I’ll never escape the evils of man’s world and that I sit powerless with the keyboard at my fingertips.  My lips have lost their shine, my mascara burried deep beneath the bags under my eyes as I strive for inclusion in such a fascist way of life.  I’m not sure there’s anything great about Britain anymore. 

I would love to know what Peaches would ask her mum given the opportunity.  Or maybe she’s just not ready to go there yet, yet…

Approaching a new decade.

Back in the pit today and living in a house where housework and cleaning doesn’t exist.  Completely fed up with existence and really trusting divinity because at the moment it’s the only thing that makes sense in her life.   Exhaustion had taken over, for various reasons, and somehow she had become lost in self-pity.  Life was better but things still weren’t going her way.  She refused the status quo and knew she was more than it.  Trapped in the body she had chosen, limited in the era she must have once craved.  She had chosen this time for a reason but felt completely alienated from existence.  She loathed politicians and trusted that one day their ills would come back to haunt them.  She had given herself purpose and knew that in the future when she no longer existed her blood line would read her thoughts and know who she truly was.  She relished in the thought of words floating in cyberspace, a millenia from earth.  Archeologists would piece together her life and realise the revolution of her words.  She had existed in a time of great change which at the moment was difficult to comprehend.  Once it had passed, her words would become a jigsaw in the puzzle of humanity.

She did not know what the future held, for any being.  She did know that as we enter the 2nd decade of the new millenium life would transform, the earth was no longer the safe haven it had once been in her mother’s life time.  And as she struggled to feed her children she knew that she would do everything in her power to nurture and love them, so as they grew she would be rooted in their very essence of life, and they would take her and all that she stood for into adult hood, just as her own mother had instilled values and morals in to her very psyche too.  She wasn’t sure how, but she knew they were there lurking in her middle unconscious.  For now, she celebrated the fullness of the moon as it peered down, she wondered about the space beyond and remembered as a child wondering about the vastness of the universe.

The Essence of Life

The dark moments in life were when it was dark and as she sat at the keyboard looking beyond the darkness outside her window she hated night time more than ever.  It was a time when she felt the safety of life leave her and she became a vulnerable weak insignificant being in the grand scheme of the cosmos.  Even now heading into her forties she could not sleep in darkness.  As she woke as the only conscious person in her house she heard the silence of life around her, she sensed the demons at her door and hoped the guardian angels she had placed around the house would keep her safe from all the bad things that could happen, all the bad things that could happen to anyone.

 

Today her mind had entered a place of madness, the images flicking through her mind, playing over like a stuck record.  Today she wanted a lobotomy, today it was the only way out.  She wasn’t clear who was playing tricks on her, it was either the mad doctor, the present – both in here and out there, it was the physiology she had been given and what ever happened the physiology she had to learn to live with because in this life there is no other.  There is no escape as a human and what ever genetic make up her parents had given her she would always remember she was more than life itself.

 

As the darkness lurked beyond the night ahead she felt the fear of sleeping and somehow understood it’s connection to her own fear of dying.  Because the black unknowness of sleep connected her with the rest of the universe and all the life and death in it.  As she slept she connected with all those who she had loved and lost.  A she slept she knew she was with her ancestors in a place too beautiful to be experienced in the existential world of humanity.  In this place there was no existence, no eyes to see, to voices to hear, no flower to smell.  Just pure spirit, the real essence of who she was, shared with all who had ever known or not known her.  As she wrote she wondered if her place of no existence was heaven?  If it was this would mean there would be God and she did not want God in her life, only the universe from which she came. 

 

And as she woke for another day without her mum, the 7085th give or take a few she knew she was more than life itself as she sat on the fence of freedom a whole new life in the day waiting to be lived.  She could live her life knowing she had spent the night with her loved ancestors.  And as she woke in the night the fear of existence haunted her because sleeping was a place where she could feel safe and although it was a dark blackness it held the safety of the universe between its fingertips.  As she sat at the keyboard she sensed the resistance to harm sitting beyond her shoulder and knew that no matter how unsafe she felt she was protected from matter by something that just can’t be talked about, the unexplainable essence of life known as the soul.

The Evolution of the Psyche

Today she could be reading but instead she felt an energy driving her to write.  She wanted to scorn this earth and how it had become.  Becoming so selfless was something she yearned for humanity and wondered how we had become so disconnected from one another.  She imagined a great power in her arms, an energy swirling with such immense supremacy, an energy that could change the world.  She knew from her heart that it was a battle of inner and outer worlds and she wanted her children to have an awareness of their inner world and would do everything she could to help them feel fulfilled, without consumerism. 

 

The deep breathing she did had begun to strengthen her mind and she did not feel comfortable wearing expensive clothes.  The clothes she wore had become dirty because she did not want to waste gas or water, she was saving the precious resources for her grandchildren.  She wanted lives to be humble so that the future of humanity may be saved, she wanted the evolution of the soul to be acknowledged.  She could feel it’s beginning.  Darwin had exposed the evolution of the physical world with little thought of the human psyche because the time he existed in gave little or no thought to feeling.  Now it was time, time to understand and further the emotional intelligence of humanity, time to include the psyche in the holism of the person.  Today her blusher was so pink and Gordon Brown so dull.  She was bored with british politics and religion.  She did not give praise to God, she only thanked her mother for carrying her for 9 months and her father for his seed.  Today she would paint her nail’s purple and loose the depth she had been given.  The great power in her arms had been taken by the dragon lurking in the cave.  She still had her fingertips and determination and knew she could change the world from where she was sitting.  It would take only time.

Too damn important to care.

Today she was feeling frustrated with the world and wondered why the young people of today had become so rebellious.  Order was not being maintained and the loss of faith in the police force had been noted.  Where had morality gone and who had shaped her morals as she grew from a child into a young person?

 

“The tribe she belonged to can gave her a sense of belonging and without it isolation took over.  No longer able to see her Self, she needed humanity more than she realised, otherwise she became a worthless individual who was not seen by no one.  Her family were too busy to see her, busy living the life they had chosen.  She yearned to belong, seeking acceptance from her friends was the only way possible and she would do anything to please.  Of course the seeking of acceptance happened at a subconscious level and she had little awareness of who she was and what she really wanted out of life.  Even the want for belonging she was oblivious to.  You see the subconscious ticked away in the pit of her belly until bam, one day she found herself in a whole heap of trouble.”  

 

And you know what, we all have one whether we like it or not.  And when you hear the story of the brain damaged dad who will never be the dad he could have been because 20 young people kicked shit out of him and put him into a coma, I wonder how it will make you feel?  And maybe that’s where religion fits in the grand scheme of things, less about morality and more about belonging to something greater than being human.  Because being human can be really shit at times, escpecially when you feel like no one can see who you truly are.

herding sheep or watching xfactor?

Are you’re lucky enough to be a talented artist?  Today she felt beautiful and the sun is shining.  As she felt it’s energy on her face, a blanket of orange covered her eyes.  The unspoken social hierarchy had exposed itself for what it really is.  She lived in a part of the country which traditionally had little experience of outsiders, not accepting strangers belonged to their culture, it was in their blood and the very air they breathed.  She was trying to understand the dichotomy of change.  One part of the world embracing the technological revolution and documenting the most documented time in history.  Our ancestor will know everything there is know about this period, unless it all gets nuked which at the moment seems unlikely if Gordon Brown manages to lose a Trident sub.  As we become the ancestors, the people of the future will look back and realise how old fashioned we truly was.  How outdated our lives became.

 

On the other extreme a cultural tradition attempting to be maintained and not lost in the spirit of a global culture of X-box, X-Factor, Coca-cola, MacDonald’s  and 20th Century Fox.  An age old tradition of moving freely from plane to mountain with a herd, reading nature as it speaks through the curling of a leaf.  There is a deep knowledge, passed verbally, energetically from one generation to the next, knowing in your heart when the time is right to move to safety as the cold winter hits.  And what role does becoming famous play in this nomadic lifestyle, where will we plug in our X-box?  Who will I be if I have no animals to herd?  Who will I be without my X-box or X-factor?

too busy watching x-factor to feel.

Today her soul had been wrapped like a parcel in the skin deepness of the world she had chosen and she couldn’t help but feel irritated with the world she lived in.  She had no time for the incongruous nature of the people who surrounded her.  The world was changing and they was not, they did not embrace change and she had thought a lot about the last 20 years of her life and how it had all transformed so rapidly, oblivious, she accepted it as part of life, she didn’t fight it or battle against it she just did it.   And now the transformations of life were becoming more precipitous and the existence of the people she had known for the last year wouldn’t be rushed.  Outsiders were not welcomed, change was frowned upon, her heart ached for the diversity she had left in London.   She did not want to accept the intolerant attitudes which followed her with suspicious eyes because of her south east London accent.  Today she slammed the door in their faces and would not let them beat her down.  She was good at connecting with others but consistently sensed the presence of a barrier to the souls of those who surrounded her.  It was this presence which spiralled through her mind, coiling each neuron with a blockade.  She refused to accept her self as the badness.  She had as much right to be here as any other, she would not spend the rest of her life being an outsider. 

 

She was innovative in her thought processes and sensed the shift from thinking to feeling.  The enlightenment had a huge impact on the world and how we understood it as humans.  Now was a time for thinking to be put on a shelf like an artefact in a museum.  The age of feeling was present and her higher self would not get caught in the monotony of everyday life.  She was able to connect with her ancestors and she refused to have her identity taken.  She knew who she was from the inside out and as the world developed around her, her inner self was able to remain the same.  She had an energy within her that would enable her children to love who they were, she wanted them to love themselves as much as the love she had for them.  She hoped one day they would feel within their heart the power of her love for them, she truly hoped.  Maybe now was the time to begin questioning the change in the world and how it makes us feel.  How do you feel about it?

Fingertips and Lipgloss

A river can lighten the soul - above and beyond

Today she is fascinated with how our existential world shapes us and how we are conditioned from birth to live in the culture our parents choose for us.  She was trying too hard to open her self to the writing energy which overcame her and allowed her to produce words she was happy with.  Today it felt as though they would not come, her expectations had been high and she had wanted the beauty of her words today more than ever.  She missed the view she had in south east London, but not the life.  She was exceedingly happy with the life she had chosen and embraced her self-sufficiency now, in the past it had been frightful and hindered who she truly was.  Her solitude was embraced today and she missed her children now they were at school.

 

Today she wished she could understand all the words of Foucault.  A decade ago she couldn’t even pronounce his name let alone read it.  Her pronunciation had been the most interesting yet, according to her lecturer.  Hence a moment when she felt her stupid self rise to the redness of her cheeks.  She yearned academia, addicted to it as though it were heroin pumping through her veins.  As the sun shone on her face she knew she had found a place to be at one with her words, as the smell of a freshly polished leather-bound desk tickled her nose.  As she looked out of the window on to the garden she knew it was the start of something big.  She could sense the power at her fingertips, her neck crunched as the tension left her body.  She saw her reflection in the screen and noticed the dullness of her lips, now was the time to reapply her lip gloss and make her lips so shiny.