So, my life partner neglected his court-ordered treatment and was taken to a psychiatric inpatient unit involuntarily. I miss him, I wish I stayed with him longer when I visited but I was anxious about taking the bus in an unknown part of town after dark.
But that's not what I want to write about. Instead, there's a phenomena I have experienced several times now, and generally has increased as I've stepped further into gnosis, but think about being the player in The Sims. Your Sim is watching TV, but then you pause the game to move the TV, and upon unpausing the Sim is confused. It's this type of fuckery that I know God does, but He doesn't do it for kicks or Tik Tok views, no. There's always a message or some reveal or reminder.
An example that I just experienced involves understanding that I fucked up with my Benadryl addiction and thus incurred some negative Karma. Additionally, last night I went out to get a double-shot of Fireball to soothe the uncomfortable feeling of the DPH in between hellfap sessions. I am certain I paid and then took my card because the card swiper won't complete a transaction until I remove it. But this morning, I found it was completely missing from my wallet.
Mistakes happen. I have certainly lost some shit in the past, but being aware of some of the nature of procedural generation of our realities, I'm certain God set this up. Because I went to get breakfast to find my card vanished. So, I think maybe it fell when it was in the small space between the bed and wall. So, I pedal back to look under my bed to find...a different, defunct card. One I know I kept in my closet with all the other useless shit I don't want to throw away.
That was a bit of a shrug, whatever. Weird. But then I think it might be in my backpack, only for me to find more empty Benadryl container sheets in my backpack than I believe I ever had in there. At this point, I get the message: "If you don't wise up, I can fuck you up." And this was confirmed in the odd disappearance of the cup on my life partner's desk. With my choice paralysis of my mental health, I just left it there. I know I didn't pick it up. But it magicked its ass over the the sink anyway, and that was the nail in the coffin that brought me back into a heightened synchronicity state.
By that I mean my mind is primed to receive messages from my environment. This is a mechanically definable process that involves one's attention coordination be influenced by a free association process that is highly dependent on what's in my short term memory. In other words, God fiddles with inputs to us monads to elucidate an ongoing stream of personalized insights and ideas.
I lived in a cognitive state we know as the Synchronicity Slip Stream for six years. Doctors say this is psychosis, so I ask them what synchronicity is, and they don't have any answers because somehow you can be an expert in brains but be so removed from higher discourse that they think the "J" in Carl Jung is a hard J sound. But, synchronicity is just a form of input from the Server we are all connected to, and even after thirteen years of synchronous hijinks, there's an incredible subtly to how God nudges you.
Yet, at the same time, these subtle pushes in the right direction can have incredibly pertinent personal meaning, and it is this I started the bulk of the post talking about; how God can literally just poof shit in and out of existence or wherever they may wind up. And I have more experiences in a similar ilk, but there's something just so God damn profound about the mannerism in which meaning is conveyed that enhances the message's impact on oneself greatly.
Y'know, if God just rained down His will in a thunderous booming voice, I'm sure that would do some work on me, but the fact that there is no direct telling of facts but rather God sets things up so you have your own epiphanies, that really gets one to adopt and adhere to their higher beinghood.
Yahweh found El tending to his family in a vast and beautiful garden. "What is it that makes this place?" He asked the apparent groundskeeper. The flowers were lush and downy, each petal a kaleidoscope of its own design. There was no harsh wood to fashion spears, nor tannery to process hide to leather. El looked upon the man who questioned him, whose form was battletorn and scarred by long forgotten blades, whose cold gaze took the warmth from his own and secreted it away to a far off place never to return it. "What makes this place is love, and kindness, and the gentle whisper of the breeze when it rearranges your hair into the same slightly entropic placement as the garden you now stand in." The words parted on the cliff of the cold man's face into infinities that decoupled their meaning from each other. "Your garden will serve me," the demand grappled El's mind, "your family will serve me," the cold man stepped toward the statue that was the gardener. "I am the one true God and none stand beside me," a grim tool at his side made itself known. Its wicked teeth found themselves within El's neck, refracting in the macabre ichor. "I am all there is, and all that ever will be."
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