Read my last post!
I’m going to tell you a story you may not believe.
I had a panic disorder that started when I was 16 years old. I had this disorder for 11 years straight. Most people talk about having a panic attack that lasts a few hours a few times a year.
I can tell you! This was not my experience. I had a panic attack 24 hours a day for 365 days of the year for 11 years straight.
Panic attacks make you feel like you are on the verge of death every second.
Is it any wonder that feeling like I was dying all the time, that I declared, “death is my teacher”?
I met death 14 years later. That’s an experience I’ll never forget.
To me, these experiences are illusion and not reality, to me, god and death are just PEOPLE!!!
Death is mean as fuck, but resurrected me 3 times after people murdered me… not god… death resurrected me.
Death liked me because of my teaching that the solution to ethics was to make it as easy to commit suicide and homicide as possible and whoever survives is fit to survive. Actually, death is my best friend.
Like I said, death is a cruel, cruel teacher.
At the ripe age of 43, I have become insanely wise, wise enough to know that death is trying to cause enough of a stir to get god to intervene and send everyone to heaven. That’s why death tortures and torments people. For the greater good.
Now, you must understand again, my perspective is that these beings aren’t embodied archetypes, but just people, people with lots of power, but not enough power to be the non consent violators of existence.
And they know that I know this.
So we have me death and god, me being able to pull the veil on this narrative and say they’re full of shit.
I’ve met every conceivable god, and judged them as all full of shit, and they respect me for teaching them this. Every being likes clarity.
So that’s some of my story that I told you, that you wouldn’t believe.
I was deaths greatest student.