Spiritualism is gay

I’m posting this because I want to see where I am later on, if this is a fad, if I’m deluded or mad….

This may be completely gibberish to you. That’s fine, but I’d like to see how long this lasts! Is it about game? I don’t know. It’s about everything, so it’s about game….

My account of a very strange experience

I had many months out of daygame, living like a dead man. I was addicted to the Atheist Experience videos on youtube. This and pornography. And I was drinking a lot – not unhealthily, but I was drinking when I didn’t want to. After I could take no more of both of these, I was also trying to go out and do new approaches, yet I was failing at every hurdle and not approaching – not out of fear, but out of despair – “what’s the point?”.

After I had done so much I hit a wall and thought. “Let’s fill my head with something better.” So I started watching RSD Tyler and reading the power of now. This eventually led to watching the Neil Strauss annihilation method DVDs via youtube. He recommended a book: Radical Honesty by Brad Blandon. “Another book, big fucking whoopie” I thought. But I found the title compelling so I launched in. It was compelling, and somewhere in the back of my mind, old ideas started sprouting, then old feelings started to come back. It opened my eyes, just a little further, till I could just make out the terrible truth that my entire life had been a tissue of lies, and this had been 100% my own making.

I started going out to saturday sarges again, and last saturday at a pivotal moment of asking for approach coaches, I put up my hand. I had done this before, but this was different. I didn’t have to impress the students. I was just me. Doing this advanced everything, but best of all was the book.

I had read the Power of Now which talks about: “I hate myself”. Who is the “I” that hates “myself”? For ages I had rationalised this as me vs. my ego. But through Radical Honesty I realized this is a bullshit smokescreen. Another lie, another false belief (not that Eckhart Tolle was lying but that my interpretation of it was, so I had fallen into the trap Eckhart warned against). How do I know it’s a lie? How do we know if our beliefs are bullshit or not? We look at reality – and here I am, one person. One complete person – count me. One. I realized this on the way to work (I had taken the train, unusually). As I sat and the truth dawned on me, I offered a girl my seat, and she caught my eye. Everything about her, her whole demeanor lit up, we didn’t speak but when she left the train she lingered, hoping I would catch her up, bump into her. Without words whatever energy was emitting from me had affected her. I avoided her because I was afraid of this reaction, of this power, I was feeling the unknown. But by the time I got to work the realization was massive: this, all of this, my life was all my doing – I am the author of my life, I work at this job because I chose to, and nothing I ever do is for any other reason than I wanted to do it. This was pure freedom as it shattered the illusion of me being my own enemy, and me being two people. How can someone be their own enemy? There is only one. Neither am I my best friend. Just I am. This is making more sense. I am. I went to work with a certain feeling – one of calm, content, and power – this was my making, and I accepted it. I either do things or I don’t, because I want to or I don?t. There is no conflict. “Do, or do not… there is no ‘try'”. I went in and chatted to my colleagues, enjoying each interaction in a way that I hadn’t before. I felt love for everyone I spoke to. I was in no hurry, my work didn’t matter. One of my colleagues said “you seem to be floating, somehow”, I said that I had new insoles in my shoes. This was all I could say!

I wanted to test this feeling so went out in the afternoon. As I walked around I realised how absurd the prospect of “I should approach” is. How can I say this to myself? How can I say anything to myself? You need two to communicate, but I am one. The second exists only as a self-image, a product of my imagination and my reactions to the outside world. I realised, I’ll either approach, or I won’t, depending on what I want. So I approached one girl with a lightness I have never felt, she hooked instantly and we hugged, then another, then walking down the street I said to myself “I wonder how long this will last?” Then, with that question, suddenly I saw my mind for what it is and it completely emptied, like a vacuum had sucked everything out of it, and I looked around, awoken from a dream. Everything was the same, but somehow alive. Not glowing, but feeling more touchable. The greatest sensation change was my mind. It felt like a cluttered, stinking festering bedroom that has been cleared out, scrubbed, polished, buffed with a clarity and a weightlessness to it – no shit therein. After this thought “I wonder how this will last”? I was waiting for a thought to come back, but it didn’t, and I realised that I didn’t want or need to think, so I didn’t. For the first time I was choosing what my mind did, I realised that “couldn’t think” just meant I don’t want to, I have no need. I walked along, bathed in the glorious sunshine, with a lightness of being, a joy and playfulness I’ve never felt before, and unlike any of my earlier experiences. I started laughing, in the street, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all – all these worries, hopes, dreams, me and everyone walking around with our furrowed brows. Just at that moment, out of bright sunshine, a sudden bout of torrential rain hit regent street. Everyone ran for cover and into shops to take shelter. Not me, I was still laughing, I felt the rain pour on me and turn to hail, and I loved it – I was freezing and being pelted with ice and it was wonderful. Everyone looked at me through the shop windows, the way you look at a madman. But for me, in those few minutes, I was sane for the first time in my life.

I may be deluded, I may have gone mad, I may be playing make-believe and I may be lying again. We will find out, but I wanted to try and express something which can’t be done with words. Let’s see if I return to my addictions and my unconsciousness. If I do, it’ll be because I wanted to.