I’m not mad. How much anger do I have to spew before people take me seriously.
I have a hidden self that nobody will ever see. This self knows she has experienced the supernatural, and will not back down no matter what obstinately brain-dead motherf&ckers she encounters.
Yet again, I talked to someone that deflects my psychotic/mania as something within the brain. Mine wasn’t. Mine isn’t. It continues daily as a force that puppets me and a vast variety of other supernatural behaviour.
Also this person happened to toss around the word ‘psychotic‘ for describing a wacky evil anime character. This needs to end, morons. Just because I think my psychosis extends outside of my brain, doesn’t mean I’m not offended when people toss around words, like they are aware of what these states entail. They fucking aren’t.
I have been through “psychosis” and “mania“. I have come to my own current conclusions about both these states. I decided that I have danced with the supernatural, but under the guise of those two definitions. My symptoms extend far outside of the usual “reckless mood” and “out of touch with reality“…since when is being puppeted around by invisible force a part of mania?
I can attempt to conceal this truth about myself, but it constantly affects me. It calls to me in the form of twisting my body to gaze at the stars, in spinning me around as if guiding in a dance, it treats me with such kindness (mostly).
I know that others are blind to my tall tales and unwilling to accept there are different levels of reality, some we will never understand. Especially unwilling to accept a human may have a connection with a force of invisible origin. Where does it come from? I do not know, we cannot know.
If we cannot know, then accept the unknown.
You think we understand everything through science? Don’t make me laugh. I’ve felt more through my own senses, and senses I didn’t know existed, akin to a sixth sense.
Why do I think most people are morons? Because you insist that mania is a clinical label, something wholly within the mind of the victim. Victim, there it goes again. A nasty disorder that inflicts evil upon the participant.
I have experienced evil, but the sparkling glowing happiness far makes up for it.
“Is it really happiness though? Isn’t it fake?” Someone asked me today over coffee, when I told them about the beauty of such experiences.
This is a easy argument for the ignorant, to tell people that the entire experience is fabricated in your mind, so therefore any joy you experience is a lie too! No. I have experienced the highest highs possible and it doesn’t stem from within my head.
Where does it stem from Vela? Asks nobody ever, since people are too jack-shit-dumb to try engaging with someone like me, someone who has experienced God.
It stems from another world, reaching out, peeled back layers, omens and codes constructed by higher powers.
In my ‘mania’ I live out a fantasy where everything falls into a perfect place. I am synced to every song on my phone, every action I make timed immaculately to this cosmic flow. How? Why? I cannot answer. I simply know this phenomena has affected me over and over, especially since late May 2021.
People tend to treat me with pity, even when I say that last 2021 was a sparkling odyssey across dark night Adelaide streets. People don’t feel the ecstasy in my eyes when I say I saw the tree people. Because they don’t believe it. They only see the sadness of someone who is lost in a maze in their mind, and nothing more. It comes from nothing, it means nothing, that is how they see my tales.
I had a glowing vision in my ‘mania’ of 2021. Of a ‘Falconia‘ style alternative family, where the Kangaroo Island hills are golden and full of wheat. It’s littered with wooden hot tubs, everything people do is for the benefit of the cult. We make sake and watch the stars all night, dancing around bonfires is the vibrant vision I held in my mind as a laughed to myself in bed.
I mention how Berserk embodies this vision late into the video below. This video below also captures the first time I began to experience these otherworldly things, bodily fire, shaking, outside of my body, sensation of dying. Yeah, yeah, tell me I didn’t experience nuthin’. 😐 😐 😐
I believe that the future of humanity lies in trying to understand strange experiences. Bipolar, Psychosis and other conditions like Autism, must hold secrets. I believe my own lived experience holds a truth. In the future, maybe we’ll ascend to understand and control these anomalies. The opposite of just killing babies that have autism, yeesh.
Instead for now, we lock people up and drug them, and when they plead into WordPress saying they’ve experienced something more, we willfully don’t listen? Morons.
Back to my glistening Kangaroo Island idea, of course it just sounds like a cult. This would be far into the future, a time where I believe, people have ascended enough to feel this same phenomena I have described. It would be shared.
I don’t always have access to this spirit, otherwise I wouldn’t be stuffed blogging and would be off spinning, dancing and drawing codes. If people had access to it like me, they would feel an immense, otherworldly ecstasy.
In my vision, all humans would be connected. It is a vision I had in 2020 ‘psychosis’ but resurfaced the next year. Of course, I wont live to see the day where ‘mania’ is viewed in a positive lense. It’s just mania isn’t it?
At the end of the day, I know what I’ve felt.
I know that it is not ‘mania’ and never will be.
I may not have enough followers for a cult, but someday maybe someone will believe me. Still, I’m going to talk about it. Because I’ve felt Falconia on the horizon, and as I say in the above video, I am ‘not coping with other people not seeing that‘.
I realise from all this, that I’ll never be understood. That no matter what words I use, how I construct what I say, people will never feel the same glowing visions I’ve had in my mind. People will also never know the pit of darkness I’ve been in many, many times.
My intense desire to be understood falls flat, when I accept, other people plain and simple don’t have the brain-range to ponder the supernatural.
I am unable to make friends, because they go all ‘stunned mullet’ when I try to talk about this. I’m unable to be myself and therefore, I shut my deeply personal and passionate feelings away into a secret place. I can’t be fucked talking about other things when I just want to be blogging about this shit. All my passion, sealed away in blog or vlog form.
Sucks having supernatural experiences.
I’m perpetually waiting for some idiot to be brave enough to post a comment here telling me I’m all wrong, or offensive to manic people. Or some garbage like that.
Oh, also I’m triggered when people don’t like Berserk much. It’s a fucking masterpiece. Suck my tits. Over and out.