On being the fool.

Firstly, fool is similar to that of a child. I’ve been thinking about tarot and how it relates to my life. A flow on the “fool” or my child self and how I see her reemerging.

It’s a creative flow written journal experiment on the tarot basically. I am kind of just trying to learn how to express, and see the different ways in which it feels good to express. I know what I am writing about it quite deep and personal. I just am writing for me, but I actually oddly enough enjoy sharing too.

Maybe it’s because I kept a lot of journals when I was young — and rather enjoyed reading them to friends. I mean honestly I would read my journals to anyone that would listen. I am honestly not really sure anyone would be interested in these little ramblings. I am doing them mostly for me. I need to do them for me. I am excited that I am even doing this. I am excited that I am even allowing myself to do this.

It sounds so weird but I’ve had these little rules in my head about sharing what I’ve created. Like the lie that it had to be good enough to sell or capitalise on something I love. Like I had to make money from XYZ if I wanted to do this. Or it had to match up with this exact linear way of thinking.

Why couldn’t I just write for the hell of it? Why was I trapping myself in my own little perfectionistic jail. I realised that a lot of these rules were self created. And I am exploring that side of myself. Exploring beyond religion, beyond “what has to be real and logical” because it’s what I was told my whole life!

What is a Christian? Is a Christian someone who has to believe every word of the erroneous testimony in the bible? Is that a “real” Christian — and it’s those people that you have to aspired to be? You must go to heaven. I must do this or I will die in a pile of fire. Or if I don’t, I won’t be resurrected with my family.

But, what if? I didn’t believe that? At one point I didn’t know, because I never questioned anything outside Christianity. And yet, could someone be a good person without “God?”

Or was God an illusion or was this god of the bible really an archetype and telling stories. Why did I take this more seriously than Greek Mythology? And yet we can’t understand why people would have ever believed in Zeus? We call the ancient world crazy?

It was then I realised I was living in a matrix.

I’ve been exploring this side of me in writing, really trying to uncover (LOOKING FROM THE INSIDE) what I truly believe and WHY.

Who am I? Can I stand alone and be okay? Can I be my own life long best friend? Can I impress myself?

Anywho. I hope you enjoy these types of writings... but I don’t care if you don’t. 😉

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Dearest child,

What you went through is okay. What your childhood was like is okay. It’s not your fault. The tower crumbled, and it’s okay. Now, you look around and you survived. It was just you, your not worried about anyone else. — the city that was brought to her knees was a population of 1, you. You get up? What’s your initial thought?

I survived! Yay!!! I MUST live. I must live now. I must tell the story of the city that crumbled. I must get out.

You couldn’t leave them there. Your energy depleted itself to feed those suffering. You had to stay. You knew from the moment you were born you had a purpose, you just had to learn how to unfold that purpose. You had to learn how to talk to the Devine. You had to learn how to communicate and visualise your future. You had to connect. You had to become aware. You have to become aware.

It’s like your staring right through me. It’s like you don’t see me when I am talking to you. It’s like you don’t hear me.

I don’t. I learned how to tune her out completely. I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t hear.

I must impress myself with the keeping of my word, the keeping true to who I am. I must impress my highest version of me. There is no God. There is just us, the truth and the illusions. Don’t fall for the illusion dear. This world is nothing but an illusion. Be who you are, be who you feel you are. Be the best you. Be your highest potential.

I got the award “most potential” and felt offended. Potential was not tangible. I must have asked dozens of people what the word potential meant on my award. No one seemed to be giving me the right answer. I was always looking for the answer outside in. I would poll people and be the detective looking for the right explanation about somebody or something. I knew the answer deep inside, but instead of looking there. I asked others. Instead of finding it myself, I asked others. Who was I? Who was I to ask? What have I done or proved to be good enough to ask? So I asked other people.

So why did I ask two dozen people what the word potential meant? Because I wasn’t looking for a definition. I was looking to understand some feeling I was having deep inside.

As I’ve been maturing, I am spinning my potential into a creation of my choosing. But I have to use it, I have to decide to use this potential that I was trapped away. And it’s a really sad thing? Because I am giving up this “child in me” aka my potential. And what made me special as a kid? I had the most potential. The energy was palpable, but the substance was not yet tangible. But I didn’t feel like I “did” anything for this potential. I was just “born” into it. As if there was a hierarchy system of “people who were worth it” and “people who weren’t” and — there MUST have been a mix up. I can’t be this special. I need to hide. I can’t show anyone who I really am?

Because no one could create this for me. I must create and shape my own life. I can’t get people or even pay people to live out my dream. I must dream, I must create, I must drive, I must get out of fear. If I was to have survived the tumble of the city. I must live.

I must live. I must find a solution to my endless potential. I must create matter from this fire inside me. I must create. I must explore. I must see. I must witness. I must live with as much abundance as I desire. This is my life. I get to design it. If I want to be here. Then I must at least create an environment that I want to live in. I faced death.

I looked death in the eyes myself, just for me, and I accepted the day that I died. I accepted that fact that I would die. I accepted the fact that death would be preferable to certain living conditions. I made my bed with death and religion. I escaped from the fear chock-hold of hellfire and brimstone. I got away from my family. I escaped “normal life”. I was an adult now. I am free.

I am truly free.

So why the fuck was I still living with them blasting in my head? Why was I still listening to their anxiety about my life? As if they had to pay the consequences? They overly emotionally attached me with them. If I did that — automatic reflection on them.

If I was gay or bisexual — automatically response from my dad, “I really failed as a father.” As if my sexuality was offensive to him. I used to say that you could be “made gay”. And I still somewhat feel that way — that the more society tries to stifle us, the more of us that rise. I believe that the true nature of humans is polyamorous. I truly believe in the open sexual love, in many forms and methods. I believe that we should be free to love all, and that we should not place people in boxes — and tell them how to love and why. I believe if we freed our sexuality, we’d free our species. And that’s okay.

And if you don’t accept that, that’s okay.

I believe in love — and I refuse to accept the current mainstream religions rules about what is true and false about sex. And I refuse to place this rules in my life. I refuse to accept this as reality. I choose instead to formulate my own reality and program it to however my choosing.

And I am okay.
We are all okay.

As in there are zero deaths resulting from my viewpoint. No one died because I thought this manner. My thoughts cannot kill you. Only if you choose to let them. And you also cannot change my mind, and I realise that I cannot change yours.

And that’s okay that I think differently.

So now, my child.

Go spin your potential into the beautiful object you want. I will support your creative endeavours. I want you to know how loved each child of the planet is. And always I am waiting here for them, I am always waiting to give them their hearts desires. And yet they resist.

It’s okay. We will wait on them. You are now free to spread the message. It’s our jobs to plant that message in their hearts.

Just create things that are fun to you. Tell stories, read book, study, learn. Do what you love in order to express.

Find joy in the expressions of life.

Love,
The universe