What do you think of, when I mention the word psychic? A dodgy, damp, velvet laced stale tent, containing a sagging liar and a £10 crystal ball? Imagery so plagued by stereotypes and naivety, but I don’t blame you… Everything in this world is so adamantly commercialised… psychic readings, your belief in God – you name it, capitalism owns it.
I know there’s something else out there, but a cruel fictional charter that lives in the sky? Holy transcripts full of contradiction, hate and injustice? Leaders who do not follow what they preach, constantly covering their tracks? No. I have always refused to follow what I don’t believe in, regardless of how harshly they may try to force me.
Over the years however, I’ve become increasingly awakened to the possibility of there being something… more. Or at least greater than these man made constructions of social control. Now I think about it, maybe the government’s God?
It all began a few years ago with meditation. I didn’t believe in anything back then, adamantly doubting and refuting anything even mildly spiritual. Eventually meditation became the only way I could find any comforting peace from my tormented mind. Yet I didn’t have enough belief in my sixth sense until this year.
Whilst in bed and a few months into meditation, I had an intensely vivid and lucid experience. I automatically started breathing rhythmically and my body was postured perfectly without a thought in my mind. I felt relaxed in accepting paralysis. Eventually, through sheer luck and accident – astral projection.
Since then I’ve astrally projected numerous times as well as developed other abilities. I know it’ll sound surreal and profound to many if I tried to explain, but I do have some faith in what I’ve seen, felt and achieved… even if it’s just a manifestation of my mental illnesses.
Recently I’ve allowed a spirit into my room to possess me. If I told my shrink that, what would be the diagnosis?
I don’t believe in an afterlife. I question whether any of this reality exists. Solipsism, like a lot of things, angers me. A wise lady once said that it doesn’t matter, none of it does… It’s all about the experience. So I’ll sit here, watching, witnessing life unfold itself to death.