O | thehereandnowlab

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Each day I rise. I fall on my Mat, I pray 2 my altar. Let the spiral begin.

Each breath I am not engaged with my journey reeks of death. It pulls at my mind. Fantasies of alternate realities play. I cannot be stuck here another day. I crave release. Wings spill feathers around my feet. Clipped from a bird it feels as though they are a part of me.

This hellish nightmare. There are spiderwebs on my face. Death brushes against my cheek. Bites of food fill my stomach with remorse. Grotesque faces fill my vision. Angered with themselves their repugnance is a perfume. It poisons me

filling me with a desire to be gone. Every interaction makes me cold. I see pattern after pattern all the loops playing out one after another.

I search for spontaneity everywhere realizing I am the one who has become dull. I have chosen to stay in monotonous routine. Like a rat in a sticky trap I would rather lie still in bed pissing myself than experience this world. My love of it has vanished like mist from the sea. It has been obscured from sight.

I shake, freezing cold, in harsh sunlight. Weary enough 2 sleep where I stand. My brain seizes, where will I go? Run it says.

I try to work back doing the things I used to enjoy. Marijuana causes me 2 see my mad reality, living in the past.

"Turn look there is a deer." I do not believe. I do not want to turn in fear I will see nothing. I am living in fear. My own Hell created personally by me. These thoughts burn a new reality.

My skin is melting. Flesh tastes good. The walking reflections function like machines. Planes buzz hammers bang motorcycles rev the bird cries never cease. My light flickers or did I blink.

What is real am I imaginary?

Have I created this safe world?

This mundane existence seems 2 be eternal. I think out going 2 the pool sinking 2 the bottom and swallowing. This feels like my path my certainty. That or let the insanity overtake me. End up strapped 2 a bed fed meds pissing into a catheter while an attendant spirals around me.

I am 2 sessions of therapy in. I am newly sober. I am heartbroken A lamb falling anyway you please. Who will be kind 2 me? Will the Gods when I sip the chlorinated waters. I have no more beliefs. Nicotine provides no relief.

My feet are bleeding, this existence is suffering. Something in me feeds off it. A pain body. The one I used to give my carcass to Whole. Like in SLO when I swallowed 6 Xanax 2 Adderall 1 LSD followed by sniffing Cocaine lines the length of a tree. I felt my brain pop & bleed. I lay in a field. The sky went black. Demons were out. I arose. Moving towards the music chaos throbbed. I am stuck to a couch in the dirt. It is the safest place I can find.

4 years later standing in broad daylight sun on skin I am still haunted by this experience. The trauma I chose to endure has not fled my energetic field. 4 as long as I feed it with my suffering, 4 as long as I stay stuck, believing I am in that place, it has life. These horrors eat away at us if we choose to feed them.

Today I choose freedom. To create a new reality for my self here and now. I cannot rely on anyone to do this for me, especially not my mind.

So then Who do you trust?