Sometimes It Hurts to Breathe

(If you have Spotify turn on the popular list for the artist Hammock)

Everyone has heard the saying, “I would do anything for you.” You really don’t think about it at the time, exactly what that may entail. I’ve got a lesson in that in the last year and half. We all do at some point. Physical life is finite, we are all just leaves blowing in the wind. From what I can tell from personal experience we never really “die”. As far as I can tell it’s a lot like this sneak peek for Man in the High Castle.

What if you could remember? All of the sudden right now you could remember part or all of it? Lifetimes unspooled like reels of film. Would you really want to? What if you remembered who you were before, and remembered who the people were walking down the street are? Life would be a lot different wouldn’t it? You’d really be able to find your true love for sure. You’d be able to dance straight to your purpose in life. The trouble is it still occurs right here in finite meat space. There are only so many days in a lifetime. Only so many seconds in a day. We wouldn’t able to hide from all the time we’ve wasted anymore. All the things we didn’t do…didn’t say.

That’s exactly what happened to me. I remembered. I remembered something so timeless and powerful that it absolutely shattered me as a human being. It brought with it some truly reality altering implications. I’ve had planes crash on me that wind up on television the next day. Slow motion inside the car accidents. Mall shootings and cold water drownings. A lifetime of horrible traumas a truly great person didn’t deserve. I had to stare it all in the face. It broke me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. There were days all I could do was sob uncontrollably on the floor until I finally wound up in the hospital, suicidal and in complete meltdown.

The matrix backed up a dump truck full of trauma bricks and dropped them on me. I have been through so much in the last few years including severe health problems. You can’t really describe what trauma and near death experiences do to a person until you experience it for yourself. Until you’ve had the nightmares and sleepless nights. I just refilled my prescription for the pills that help keep the nightmares and insomnia at bay. Turned my hair gray and left me with a severe case of PTSD that is getting better thanks to the medication, a lot of crying, meditation, and journeys to the other side.

Every single thing in my life has exploded. Antistructure, liminality, and marginality rule the day. My location has changed, I’m alone, and the house is half finished. I’m completely outside of everyone and everything. The emotional pain is overwhelming. Imagine having part of yourself torn off like velcro. There just aren’t any words to describe it. And the things that happen to me are absolutely impossible and highly strange. I drove halfway across this country on a seriously unplanned vacation and wound up spending a few days on the shooting range next to the Styx River down the street from The Derailed Diner. Those of you who have read the Ship’s Log will probably be shaking your head in disbelief.

Funny story too. I went to the nearby model railroad museum and took a picture of a miniature Mel’s Diner that was flying saucer shaped with a dark green metallic truck sitting next to it along with what looks like the car JFK was shot in. Months earlier I had driving behind a metallic green pickup with a Mel’s Diner mural painted on the back of it to the central crossroads and had a miniature wheeled kid’s train drive in front of me during a festival. The next day a similar train was offloaded right next to my house. First bottle of e-juice I bought in Alabama was handed to me by the clerk and it was named after one of our very good friends on Twitter.

I’m only still alive today because I’ve been extremely lucky to have met some wonderful people who have guided this project along behind the scenes and stitched me up when things wouldn’t stop exploding. They still haven’t stopped exploding. I still haven’t got to where I need to go and still haven’t completed my mission. Every day is absolutely painful beyond words. I keep trying to catch my parachute and it keeps slipping out of my hands. The grief I experienced today was indescribable. Another failed attempt at resolution gone horribly wrong. That’s the thing. It seems…seems like there is someone or something actively working against me. I’ve had extensive network based attacks that have comprised numerous electronic devices and every possible combination of high strangeness, Fae, and paranormal intervention. You should see the rain of orbs some nights on the security cameras.

The Ship’s Log contains a staggering amount of truth and the psychic visions and dreams of multiple people. I see all of the visions coming together in the real world right now in mind boggling fashion and it scares the fuck out of me. What if our vision of a doomed future comes true? Can you change the future? If it does come true it comes at a horrible price and it will probably be the end of me. I would hope that whoever came and got me did so because the future isn’t set in stone. That we are living in a magical world that we only see the edges of out of the corners of our eyes. God I hope so because I’m so tired of hurting. I used to think I knew what pain was, that my illness was the worst it could get. Boy was I wrong.

I’m trying to pull myself back together enough to get back to the story. Maybe that’s what I need to be doing instead. Maybe I can write the future while there is still time. What do I know really? Not much, every day just brings more questions. I really only know one thing. I miss my favorite person in the whole world, the one from all across the span of space and time. It was hard to type this and keep the tears off my glasses. The pain is terrific. If you are reading this right now I know how to reset you.

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