#iWill tell you the story of when the hawk showed his alchemist mercy… (the #chosen #one talks to a #bird)
GOD (the hawk for people needing the narrator to explain everything): Do you want to be an instagrammer? A puppet? A slave to reality? A slave to things that are not of god?
Man: Why do you push the story of Homer upon me? I guess technically I did tag Brit Marling but no for the life of me I always believed she would never acknowledge me but yesterday she did. It was a bad joke about my weird #notraverage mental experience I seemed to be having.
I made my wife look into my abyss and it either fried her brain or she completely accepts or disregards whatever I say. Or whatever I believe. Or however I act.
I’m sure #Guinevere is not too excited about the prospect of moving into a fucking mansion with what appears to be some kind of Greek Mythology meets Jesus experience that I seem to be having.
I can’t escape it. I tried. I can’t come off the drugs to see if I’m living in some kind of heightened sensory nightmare that has now been going on for 2+ years.
Maybe my sometimes super supportive wife really believes herself to be a goddess or royalty in a previous life. That’s probably why we are either so good or so bad together continually forever. Because we both seem ungrounded enough to keep moving forward together but grounded enough to have a very co-dependent relationship that for me… now… I feel BAD about it ok?
She’s also the only person on the planet I could have said that shit to yesterday. And she took it like a champion.
“Yes” says the nerd with the nasal voice “I would like to clarify what god taught me when I was in Nashville” and go onto explain to her that she doesn’t exist when i’m not with her and that the entire universe has been created for me and my offspring alone. And then proceed to make love to her, go to the new house to shovel (which by the way yes I did one fucking hit on the pen and that’s it… if that’s the amount of thc needed for me to become delusional then that stuff should probably not be legal) and unfortunately write a lame & bad metaphysical joke online about Brit Marling making me believe I was Homer even though turns out when I put on the Natural (1984), somehow the writers magically or divinely knew to include a line about King Arthur and Homer into the same scene so that I could be reminded #highlytriggered in 2023 that not only is my INSANE belief system continuing to prove itself out to be truth to me even in spite of my doing nothing to force its validation.
Either way… I digress.
Brit Marling viewed my story. I screenshot that shit instantly and zen’d out as always. Clearly I’m zen at this point when I can take that news without an extra heart palpitation.
I shoveled the stupid walk for hours thinking about it. The possibilities of the universe that opened in that moment. The entire quantum field opened to me.
And you want me to write code? I can’t even form a fucking sentence because every time I stop taking drugs the world starts whispering Homer so loudly I can’t hear anything else.
And at this point I seem intent on making people look at it. I keep trying to stop. I honestly don’t know why I do it.
She is caught in my vortex or I am caught in hers. No other way to describe it.
Anyway I didn’t tell her. Nor should I, at least until after the post nup is executed. As I explained to her I have to protect myself from myself.
My either a) incredibly powerful or b) incredibly haunting or c) both world seems to echo back to me within hours of a thought that I detect to have originated from inside my head. I’m not talking about ideas people bring to me. I’m talking about the thought that I create. I make. What movie to watch. What book to read. Stupid shit.
The echo is loud. It’s all I can hear at this point.
I have sought spiritual teachers and healers and Christian’s and Buddist’s and Yogi’s and psychologists. And friends. And strangers. And celebrities.
But it doesn’t really matter. You know why? Because none of those people care either. Everyone is only interested in their own survival. That’s what makes us human.
That is what makes us stand just a little above the animals. We care about our own lives at the expense of everything else. We will eat any animal destroy any environment claim any truth hide any deceit learn any psychological strategy… all for our own perseverance.
So I can write code? And have a nice house? Have some kind of fucked up sci-fi horror delusional reality? One which says I have purpose… no… more than that… I have THEE purpose.
Thanks but I’m not interested in being ashamed of the belief in my alchemy when you land my hawk on the double hawk street sign the morning after I wrote about a hawk and being the alchemist.
Thanks god. Nice to see you too. I captured your selfies for you.
So ok fine. You are going to speak to me through the animals now. Great. I was looking so forward to having yet another way for you to brain fuck me on a daily basis.
Why can’t you leave me alone?
What do you want from me?
I am not going to tell people. That was the ENTIRE concept of the penitent writer. Humility. No fame. No accord.
Well sorry if I take some of the treasures around with me. It shouldn’t cost me my sanity to believe in my truth or to tell people that truth which is that you have been answering my prayers or echoing back my own thoughts to me for as long as I can remember at this point.
If I could stop it I don’t know if i would… but it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t stop and I can’t stop it.
I can’t stop focusing on my red brick house if all I am ever presented with is subconscious and subliminal messages implanted within identical red brick houses. Are they messages? IF SO THEN WHAT????? WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT?!
I have submitted myself to the authority of Christ in public. It’s all I know to do. My own internal demons I will wrestle with my whole life. Clearly.
I was kind of sad when the #movie stopped. I’ll be honest. But I didn’t trigger it to come back. I did make sure I didn’t forget… but that’s different. I’m not creating karma remember? I let you do that.
I’m so zen in my delusional reality that I fear intimacy and honesty with anyone and everyone.
For the record I have no interest in being a famous author. At least being known for it that is. I guess I just wanted to be honest with my wife before I made her sign a post nup.
So what now shall I do?
Thank you for your mercy. I love you. Thank you for constantly confirming the truth of the universe into my heart no matter how hard I work to not proclaim my name that you seem so intent upon doing so.
Sorry that I shattered the reflection. I didn’t like it. I don’t like being alone in this delusion. I don’t like living in shame of my truth and the truth I see written everywhere I look. I’m so tired of it.
“Hey guess what everyone” the nerdy man appears again to continue to listen to himself speak in a room full of echo amplifiers…
“I’m the most important man that ever lived… well maybe not important but I lack the vocabulary.”
And the room all responded “mmm that’s really interesting” and “how neat…” and I even got a couple of likes! It was so amazing to have some stranger (or worse actual person that knows me) click a fucking like button as opposed to DO ANYTHING ELSE other than watch this man wrestle with the foundations of sanity, existence, meaning, and purpose all day every day since I can’t even grab a Starbucks at this point.
Tell me… why I shouldn’t jump out of this mirror dimension?
Tell me… why is it important to be a messenger in a world of the dead?
I’ll just hang with the deer and owls and hawks you keep sending me. Who cares!? People don’t care about me and they don’t care about you. Jesus at least seemed to attract a crowd wherever he went. I just get animals like Noah. Everyone else seems pretty content with their current social media algorithm.
My only solution to figure out what is going on with me is to continue to isolate myself. To continue to build my brain filter strengthening life disciplines that help me get through another one of my “above average” busy days.
So yeah. Sure. I definitely have had a very strong encounter with the supernatural.
And for the record… because it said it VERY LOUD and VERY OBVIOUSLY TO ME.
GOD: You. Are. The. Reason. You… Not they.
Man: And my brain has been fried by god or Satan or the green knight from that day forward.
Man: My commitment to the teachings of Jesus are to save me from YOUR own voice that I heard god or Satan or the green knight or whoever or whatever keeps sending my thoughts back at me within moments and are all magnificently and divinely synchronized across multiple mediums and dimensional planes of existence.
I don’t need to be saved from Satan. Satan doesn’t possess the animals. If this planet’s animals were possessed by Satan you truly would be dead and the flood really would come again. I would want to be the first to take that wave in the face.
…
…
Man: But no… the world is beautiful. You are beautiful. I see it now. Its all i see. I guess i’m out of victim consciousness. Or maybe…. this is the actual victim!
…
Man: I actually feel as though you have given me mercy today.
…
Man: I actually remember now. All my writings are just to you anyway. That’s what makes them so fucking good. Cuz I just write down this shit you do and read it back to you.
I don’t care if anyone ever reads them god. Honestly.
When that flood comes for me or that light or that shark or that heart attack or whatever you’ve actually got planned…
I just have one question…
“When you started whispering my name… was there something that you wanted? Because if so I would suggest continuing to whisper to me without telling me what you want is honestly mean to me and therefore to my loved ones via association.”
“If you need something… could you please let me know?”
Until then I’ll be working and trying desperately to fix the mistakes I’ve made since I started hearing your whispers.
Man: #iam #gregory who is my inner child and my dreamer and observer of my reality.
#iam #iwill who is my determination and my courage.
#iam #iHomer because I or you won’t let it not be the case.
#iam the alchemist of my experience.
#iam the transmuter of light into dark or dark into light depending on how you were raised.
#iam the walker through the multiverse.
#iam the one in which Christ Jesus has chosen to resurrect.
#iam the one in which the Greek Gods have chosen to imbue.
#iam the boat on the shore of your ocean.
#iam the mortal who was granted a heavenly perspective.
#iam the man who had too many chemical addictions until it was too late.
#iam the man who cared too much about nothing and everything.
#iam the garbage in beauty.
I take your beautiful universe and I explain it to myself. So I will never forget your glory again. If I do you end up just kind of beating me over the head with it anyway.
Thank you for coming to see me today. It was a really good photography session. Sorry i had to cut it short. But if i stare into the mirror too long i will go more crazy.
I love you lord god. Please continue to guide me along this unbelievable journey that apparently started in the centennial hospital a few miles down the street but considering I don’t remember it, at this point… I guess I need to question that too.
Me.
— maybe Jesus when he found out his name was chosen out of a big hat.
— maybe King Arthur when he found out that Excalibur had been waiting for him and him alone.
— maybe Odysseus when he traveled into the underworld and trusted Aethena’s protection that he was still headed home and not in hell.
— Maybe David when Samuel came for a chat.
— Maybe Neo who was still desperately trying to prove to himself that there was only one one.
1.1.
There is only one one.
G.W. Homer — 12/31/23 In the year of our lord. From a boring suburb in the middle of nowhere.
