I’m currently juggling some different perspectives of religions, philosophies and psychologies. I’m miles down rabbit holes, conspiracies, big feet, aliens and pyramids (which are finally coming to light). I don’t visit these different levels of theories with psychosis blinders I’m a student of curiosity. Call it expanding my understanding of things I’ve dismissed my entire life. I enjoy turning my own little world into an episode of the twilight zone. I keep an open mind on most of what I come across. I get pulled into some fun things like the lost civilization of Tartaria not so much the Atlantis version. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet. I love to read about ufos and alien life I’ve said all along they come from the ocean. Did you know dolphins can talk? I’ll even go down some good theories of flat earth. No I’m not a flat earther it’s an entertaining argument to hear some other perspectives. They all seem to cross paths when you go deep enough. A lot of them always come back some old age wool being pulled over our eyes. The only thing I’ll say with zero pause or hesitation is I don’t and never will trust anyone in a high level position of government, large corporate owned media, church hierarchy or a famous actor who feels the need to push an agenda or a product.

If any of this triggers you I’d suggest closing this blog up now.

I have a healthy respect for authority when used to keep balance and nothing else. Don’t let people hurt other people or steal their things. That’s enough for me. Thanks for playing. Stay out of my personal life.

As far as spirituality I’m probably much more spiritual minded than most of you would think of me. I don’t believe in coincidence and I do believe in miracles. I’ve seen enough with my own two eyes to know that things come and go around for a reason. I’m probably not reading the same words out of the books you are but as I always say it’s the same people just different realities.

I’ve experienced some interesting things the since my little “awakening” on top of my truck on a little island south of Beaufort. Sometimes things find you when you least expect it. I’ve tried to write what I experienced that night but I haven’t quite grasped it and that’s fine because I don’t think it’s really even started yet.

One day I’ll put it into words. That day won’t be today.

I’ve been reading about quantum physics and or mechanics . I’m not smart enough to understand all the details in fact I feel like a chimp with an iPhone when I try to elaborate but when you take in enough information you at least get your mind to wrap around the subject. I know more than I did. Simple enough. I’ve been studying theory on how we are absorbed in billions of different realities, higher planes, creating our world from the reflections of our subconscious.

In easy layman’s terms, we are writing our own stories as we go along. Sort of what I’m doing here.

What you want to see is what you get. You build fears and boundaries from your self perceived experiences and our little brains keep us safe and warm from all the fun megabyte downloads that we may incur should we should we ever get to decalcify that ol pineal gland and or what the “mystics” call the third eye. Think of a perfectly shaped pine cone if that helps.

You think therefore you are. You aren’t a person who has a spirit. You’re a spirit wearing a human costume. An amazing one but still just a suit of flesh, nerves, hair and bone.

Energy.

As everything is.

Which is why I’ve been referring to frequencies, hertz levels, sounds. Astral projection, telepathy. I haven’t attempted either of these and I haven’t seen any living proof of such things but hell if the CIA practices it why can’t I?

Six weeks ago I paid little attention to these things. I do my little meditation sessions, I’d “time travel” as I refer to it when I’d revisit some childhood memories. I’ve been doing this for a year. Ive done morning walks for the last three years which is also a form of meditation. What I’ve managed to experience with this practice is a self hypnosis pattern. I’m able to release myself from my subconscious at times not all the time and not every time. I see and experience some visions (mostly dream state) nothing Dead Zone like, no visions of alien invasions, great floods or missing persons. Just a heightened level of awareness of my subconscious.

We almost separate into two thoughts. Almost but not even close yet. If that makes sense. I know it can be done. Im not there.

I’ve seen some glitches in things I used to take for granted.

*exhales

I don’t have the energy to write all of this out at the moment nor do I have enough data for it to make sense if I did.

Just imagine if reality is what you have programmed it to be. Or part of it because it’s filled with outside influences. Or distractions as I call it. What if you create your reality from all the experiences your mind has created for you? Your reality is just a regurgitation of self imposed memories, traumas of childhoods, relationships and other happenstances. Lost? Man me too.

When I hit my issues and perceptions of failures from my relationship with my dad during a self hypnosis tour one night it opened a door. Or as I call them downloads. You don’t get a small light that turns on your brain starts downloading data like an app on 5G. Logic and understanding streams like your connected to a cosmic Wi-Fi. Fun term for intuition. Your intuition is the real you trying to enter the chat.

I’m not good at writing what I’m trying to write..

Let’s jaunt sideways for a moment.

You’ve all heard my dislike for my neighbor that resides to the right of me. Neighbors that is, his wife is about as cuddly as a pissed off porcupine too. We moved into this house four years ago. We are renters for a while until we decide where we want to plant for good. It’s a free feeling I have no interest into being tied down anywhere right now. I’m in a state of roaming thoughts and vibes at the moment. When we moved here I’d heard some not so positive things about our new/old neighbors. They had a tendency for being surly and grumpy. They were hoarders and a little behind the times. Your first impression of these folk would be they are indeed stuck a little behind the times. They have multiple cars that rotate in and out of the shaded driveway that my neighbor seems to constantly have at least one hood open to the elements. That doesn’t really bother me my stepfather had an affinity for buying broken down old cars and kept quite a few in the backyard. They keep a lot of junk around the yard. Mostly half covered by a dilapidated privacy fence in the backyard. Old oil drum, car parts “they looked like tombstones in our yard 🎶 “ comes to mind when I see it. David Allen Coe was played quite a bit in my childhood days growing up in Piedmont. My parents used to have an old oil drum in the backyard. I had to sand it, prime it and paint it about half a dozen times. Idling wasn’t allowed in my parent’s household. Leaning meant cleaning. I can count at least four cars camping around their house right now. Tom, my stepfather had a chevrolet pickup, two comets and a 1940s something or another sorry yall I’m not a car person. He had a 65 lemans before that car. I totaled it while buying tickets for David Lee Roth and Poison. He also kept quite a few things in the backyard. Tom liked to buy things he saw value in. There is absolutely no knock or shade perceived on my stepfather while I make my connections here. I’m just telling a story. I loved Tom with all of my heart. It just took us some time to figure each other out. Tom was a patriot, a war veteran. He kept old glory 🇺🇸 flying off the porch of our house. Tom loved our country.

When we first moved here we got along ok with our neighbors. We were respectful, kept to ourselves. I’d talk to Don while I worked on my bus and he’d work on his truck. He would smoke some cheese and drop some off to the wife. I didn’t think he was that bad. I mind my own business. I was raised to.

Unfortunately some of my other neighbors don’t share that point of view and one of the them that moved here around the same time as us must’ve called the city on them about their yard, cars or flags I’m not sure but ol Don thought it was me. One day he decided to stomp over to the edge of his yard on a cool January day while I was cleaning out my truck and start screaming at me and calling me a word that Samuel Jackson uses quite a bit. He apparently thought I was the culprit of the phone calls to the city. I don’t even know how to call “the city”. Don is 67 years of age. He’s had a stroke or four. He’s about three inches taller than me but if we had a physical confrontation it would not go well for Don. His mind is a tad soft I think dementia has found its way into his head. I was in a no win situation. If I were to respond to Don as I’ve been primed to do from several misshaps in my youth I would’ve been painted a bully which is fun because if you knew my neighbor you would see know he is the epitome of what a bully truly is. I had a few choice words with him and left the experience with an unhealthy feeling of infuriation. Closure was difficult for me. I let a 67 year old asshat get in my head. At the time I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t let it go. The things going through my mind were unhealthy.

I have quite the imagination.

I haven’t said a word to them since that day.

My neighbors like flags. Really like them. They have at least 4 of them displayed in their yard. Three Trumps and a confederate flag.

Let me start off by saying this. Flags don’t trigger me like they do some. To each their own. I was raised by conservatives, I’m born and brought up in the deep south. I came from a region where kids wore shirts draped in the confederate flags, drew it on their notebooks and if we played civil war you want to know how many wanted to play for the south team? I’m not on here to chat about different philosophies about why the war was fought. I wasn’t around at the time. Again to each their own I’m so past trying to align myself with others who can’t agree I move on to doing me. Call it heritage call it anything you want but if you’re from California (where Don was born) there’s only one reason why you’d have that flag in your front yard. And the fact that he planted one right where I can see it when I park my truck tells you that he’s doing it to antagonize me. And for awhile it worked.

I recognize two flags in this state. American flag and the state flag. I honor one because that’s how I was raised. I have my father’s flag protected and honored in my home. Fly whatever flag you like. Do it for honor and glory. Not for aggression. It’s not my prerogative to acknowledge them.

Listen I’ve made it a point to not speak ill of anyone anymore but survey says

*ding!

*board flips over

“Don’s a piece of shit”

Crowd claps

He has some wonderful bumper stickers on his candy van that read “fuck Biden” “Joe and the Ho got to go”. My daughter got to see this stickers on the way to her middle school. It’s not the politics mind you. It’s the hatred.

Ok enough energy sucking on Don.

Let’s make the self created reality connection.

Are you ready?

My neighbors are a reflection of my life in Piedmont.

I live next door to my childhood memories from Piedmont.

Could you believe that I may have created this reality out of my mind? I’m sorry, my subconscious?

I was not brought into Piedmont via ticker tape parade. I was dragged to Piedmont from a split family/divorce that would shake my world up permanently.

8 year old culture shock. My childhood changed realities.

I hated Piedmont with every ounce of energy I could carry with me when we first moved there. Tom had a small house with a big yard full of hoarded parts and discarded junk. The day we arrived to his house the first words out of my mouth were “why is there so much junk in the yard?” My mother immediately slapped my leg. Not sure she’d ever done that before.

My first impression of Piedmont was well on its way.

I was isolated for the most part the few summers. My siblings were off doing their things the divorce really shook up the family. Most of my time was spent alone reading. Piedmont was a culture shock for me. I’ve written about it in a few blogs I don’t wish to focus on it at this time I may later down the road if I find it necessary.

I’ve talked about the daily bullying I received on the school bus, my dissociation with school.

I never received an explanation. One day I’m part of my regular family residing at an apartment complex. Next day I’m in Piedmont living next to a highway. No one told me what was going on. I wasn’t privy to the details.

No one EVER told me what was going on. Of course I figured it out but it took some time and some math that an 8 year old kid shouldn’t have had to do on his own.

Wild.

Wild that I just wrote it off that way as a child.

Repressed much?

Let’s connect some dots shall we?

My parents in Piedmont were

Tom and Peggy.

My current neighbors are

Don and Peggy

Tom met my mother when he moved back from California.

Don is from California.

Tom had up to four cars in our driveway and yard. Don has four cars in his yard.

Tom had an old Chevrolet pickup.

Guess who else has one in their yard as we speak?

I’m staring at their old rusted oil drum in their backyard. Broken old shed. Same kind that I used to rummage through in my parents backyard. I’d watch his wife Peggy meticulously sweep the front porch every day. My mom wouldn’t allow a twig on our porch. Peggy walks around the yard diligently picking up small bits of litter and leaves just like my Peggy.

Don called me a motherfucker. My trigger word is indeed that particular word because I was often called that by one of my biggest childhood bullies on the bus. Who’s name also started with a D.

When I had my coffee shop, Tom would always come by with food or pastries for me to share at the shop. God I miss that man.

Don would bring cheese.

Tom and I had our last real clash while digging up a trench for a septic tank. Don and I clashed over a cement trench that brought more water into his yard.

Got dang Peggy just got a new haircut last week. It’s a style my mother wore for years.

My Piedmont childhood trauma is right next door to me. It’s been there the whole time.

I could never quite figure out why almost 70 year old shithead could get into my head so easily and not be able to shake him off. I’d pull up to my house with my hands gripping the wheel. I wanted that house and everything sitting in it and around it erased. I fantasized about dragging my neighbor by the back of the neck around the block making him apologize to everyone he’d been a bully to.

Why would someone like that stick to me in such away.

Because I fucking created it.

You can feel my emotions while I write this. I’ve been trying to recognize certain words I use too often and push them away.

Not today.

This all hit me last night before bed. My family and I were discussing some things about my childhood in Piedmont and then our neighbor was brought up as a comparison to a few things that reminded me of my time there and I looked up and literally said

“Holy shit”

I had no clue as to what a confederate flag was until I moved to Piedmont. Sorry Piedmont don’t take this the wrong way but you didn’t represent yourself too well in the early 80s.

I was isolated for the first couple of years when we moved. Only one friend for years.

I stayed isolated from just about everyone when we moved to this house for about three years.

These are just a few “coincidences” I came up with on the spot.

I’ve previously mentioned how I feel about coincidences.

My first few years in Piedmont were full of struggles. More than I care to share. I didn’t fit the Piedmont mold at the time as it went by I got more acclimated and made some lifelong friends but Piedmont, the town itself never resonated with me. As soon as I was old enough I left without saying goodbye. This is not a knock on the town of Piedmont or the people who have and do reside there. It’s my own reality.

Piedmont is a big part of me. Take that as you will.

Don and Peggy don’t necessarily represent my parents in any way. There’s not even a remote possibility other than how they are reflected in some of my memories of what I experienced. My mother changed quite a bit when we moved to Piedmont. She became a different person. Maybe that’s where she found herself I can’t tell you. I feel like she had Piedmont take a part of her. As did I. That town is like no other.

Take that as you will. Again I’m not throwing shade I spent a decade there I’ve earned my word.

Don represents everything I didn’t like about Piedmont. The bullying, ignorance, backroad politics. My reflections of my neighbors are moving backwards with my personal experience with Piedmont and my relationship with my stepfather. Tom and I started off rough but we figured it out. Don and I started off cordial. Now I wait in anticipation for the coroner to arrive at his house.

Tom and I may not have agreed on all politics but he had love for humanity and people’s rights. Tom had a big heart. I got some of that from him.

It may be hard to pick up on here from my words but I “turned down” the volume in my head about the noise my neighbors were causing me. I rarely acknowledge them. Big privacy fence serves as a symbol of that.

It may be my imagination but every time I see Don now he seems like he’s slowly fading away. Not in health (but yeah that too) but more of his physical energy and appearance. Almost life he’s zombifying right in front of me.

*shrugs

Piedmont is 20 feet away from me. I can’t describe to you the comparison of energy I get from it in words. I almost drove to Piedmont yesterday to see how accurate it was. I felt like I needed to close a chapter in my head that I left open.

I still may choose to do so. I think it would be beneficial. I don’t think there’s any attachments there anymore. Parents have moved and passed. My close friends have departed and moved as have the rest of my family. All the store fronts have changed. Except Hardee’s maybe.

My childhood home is an office surrounded by storage facilities.

I do miss the home.

If you get bored with your mind try looking at the people that surround you as a reflection of yourself and your “experiences”.

Why are they a part of your life? If you open your mind up a bit it’ll raise your eyebrows

And your awareness.

Anyway

Peace ☮️