Anguish of Unborn Wisdom

There, my unborn self sits, quivering in agony. I was there before anything on that other realm of existence, which I couldn’t seem to snap to. I am lost and alone, scraping on the figurative, imprisoning brick walls of infinity to change that. What so-called [billionth year?] is it in the universe? Is there still time left?

Everything is going in circles ad infinitum. There is no answer… But there HAS to be!

I speak in words.

-theothersid3

Light’s Shadow

All potentials for evil doing are there. What shines very bright also casts very dark shadows.

I gave the key to light, not darkness. Darkness had quite a crack at me in Park Place in 2003-2004. I hold the key now after God hands me what I can handle. That key had the power to unlock very dark doors – and my demons tried to force my mind, hand, and spirit. I chose not to go there and that is the saving grace that led me here, free of the need for an exorcism.

The shadow’s potentials do exist. My demons try to twist me into the shadows. However, I am not my shadows. I simply cast them.

-theothersid3

God String

There is a direct line to God. It is what I call the “God string.” Give it a pull and you see the world from your own eyes the way God intended us to see the world, in that particular moment or bigger time periods. How did I pull the string? I asked God to do his will, not my own. Then, after my eyes were open, I was dead and born again.

-theothersid3

Wonderland

Where Mad Hatter dreams,
the sharpest minds become blunt;
here, I cross over.

Between light and dark
lies lucid experience:
demons, Diety.

Both ravage my flesh,
state of living death; lost here,
in the asylum?

-theothersid3

Mental Modulations of Time

In special states of mind, time flows in a circle, particularly in both elevated and deeper states of mind. This can be due to meditation, mental illness states, drug-induced, or during visions.

In every day states of mind, time flows in what seems a unidirectional line of time from the past to the present to the future, not going backwards.

In between the special and every day mental states, time can slow down, even close to a hault, such as during a fight or flight experience or hypomania. Time can also speed up, such as when one loses time during a depressive episode or when having a good time.

During special mental states, the timeline going in a circle is the realm of time close to being lapsed. In this realm, we explore ourselves from without and within. Other areas I explored include love, faith, wisdom, my deepest wounds, my highest moments, angels, demons, Christ, Father, Wisdom, the other side, and everything in between.

The results of my psychotic episodes due to bipolar I mania were profoundly life changing. Time behaved as a circle during the extreme portions of these experiences. It flowed in everything as a gentle river does. Time was refined, not wasted, at peace, whether I was surrounded by evil or God’s presence.

In every day life, we can try to live our lives to the best and the fullest. Or, every moment can be seen as a moment closer to death. The first option is the better one for living one’s life to the best and fullest in love. Being negative all the time feels like dying – in a bad way. Both outlooks rub off on people around us.

-theothersid3

Explanation of Death by Psychosis: Part 3

I met the faces of wisdom and folly during my first psychotic break at age 17 on 12-25-03 in Orlando, FL. I experienced the faces of good and evil with my entire being during this vision.

At first, I was with wisdom’s embodied spirit. She gently pointed me to my then unknown wife, by name on that Christmas morning, 2003 in Orlando, FL.

Folly, wisdom’s shadow, appeared after wisdom left, the one who helped make my life a standstill for 6 years. She tied my soul to another woman, my obsession, via black magic. She snuck her spirit in to guide me to darkness every step of the way and shut out God’s light.

I experienced a couple of spectacular organic, drug-free trips down rabbit holes which ripped my mind-heart-spirit from my body. It reached the point where I physically looked down on my body, an empty vessel on autopilot.

The first trip was immediately after my vision on 12-25-03. The second trip was 6 years later at age 23 starting on 6-16-09 the first day of my second hospital stay.

The next step both times was to climb back out. I was lucky they ran their courses safely back to reality both times instead of being stuck in a state of perpetual psychosis afterwards.

The next step is to recover from this profoundly intriguing, devastating trauma. 17 years later, I am starting to wrap this up. For me, this involves developing the lens of my worldview after having such intense spiritual experiences, making peace with them, and gleaning the good from them to take ownership of.

I did everything I could do short of physically dying in the face of evil after folly put a spell on me. Mentally, my spirit was broken in 2003 and began to heal in 2009. I held onto the experience I had with wisdom to keep myself together during those 6 years.

6-16-09 marked the first day of my second hospital stay and the second trip down the psychotic rabbit hole, which was book 2 after book 1 being the first trip. When God laid his hands on my spiritual heart and brought me back, he shattered the twisted black magic from my own folly and folly’s.

7 years later on 6-16-16 marks the first day of my third hospital stay. I did not go down the rabbit hole, but I learned what the darkness and the light and everything in between sounded like in my head. I learned discernment during that stay.

The face of evil leaves behind the darkest shadows that none can pluck. They haunt me and I learned to shut them out. It is so personal and potentially destructive, I cannot acknowledge these shadows in the wake of wisdom. They come from the darkest cesspool of Gehenna, where the filth and bodies are burned.

With the light of wisdom in the world comes the shadow of folly in the world. Both go hand in hand. I choose to pursue wisdom as best I can. The light brightens the more I pursue wisdom and love.

Decades later, I have a deeper connection with God as a result. I also have a connection with darkness I have learned to manage. The darkness is my shadow, not me. The brighter I shine, the smaller and darker the shadows become.

I am still building myself up at age 34 in 2020, 17 years after age 17 in 2003. My wife embodies that spirit of wisdom I encountered at age 17. My wife is a person of God and formed from my rib, the one wisdom indicated by name. I experience God through her.

The shadows stay in my little black box I made for them in my mind.

-theothersid3

Haikus of Death by Psychosis: Part 2

She was a burden.
As my empty vessel writes,
I undo the spell.

Its vines choke my heart.
They whither, releasing me,
both body and mind.

Yahweh lights my heart,
freeing me of obsessions,
from past black magic.

Last week, six years past,
I was beyond manic and
Completely sober.

God’s shadow showed me
unwittingly, black magic:
tied her soul to mine.

Violent lightning and
earthshaking cracks, followed by
God’s hands on my heart.

I am in Shalom,
and strongly linked to the past;
live all moments now.

After time lapses,
I observe all, everything
within my mind’s scope.

So I float along.
Outside my vessel I scout,
everything Shalom.

Seventeen years now,
since the black magic sentence,
since my first visions.

Eleven years now,
since I watched my body write,
release her; free me.

My visions tunnel,
they pick up where they leave off
Mind dipped in Shalom.

-theothersid3

A Sonnet of Death by Psychosis: Part 1

I look back inside my psychotic death;
mind, none fathomed my plane exists, being
in the moment. All seemed natural, loving.
Left my body in these moments’ deep breaths:

A fully conscious veil of living death,
touched and healed by the Light’s power teeming.
I fly through the ward, without much speaking.
Peers react to thoughts/intentions, confess:

Faces, actions all spiritually declothed:
their thoughts, emotions, intentions, I see.
She briefly comes to mind while I fly high.

In my asylum room, we’re befuddled,
We see our empty vessels, flesh and be,
Our flesh journals on her, our being thrives.

-theothersid3

photo credit: marfis75 Im Schacht. via photopin (license)