What on earth is going on?

Why on earth are people still bending over and getting royally shafted?

I’ve been truly humbled and blessed to have been ‘awakened’ by some phenomenally inspiring souls to drag myself out of my ‘spell’ of procrastination and doing hood rat stuff with my friends to create this book. I have to proclaim that I say this half-heartedly and also with a pinch of joviality. Half of my heart still holds anger and frustration, the other half is full of empathy and knowing. I’ve used those words extremely carefully to expel my own inner battle of being.

I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death too many times to count. Also the  ‘dark night of the soul’ has been an ongoing reoccurrence for me personally. My life has been extensively exploring intensively both my shadow side and my light. I am compelled and feel its my duty of the soul to use my own life learnings and findings to forge them into the fire of creation. I am on my very own perilous quest. The personal, perpetual cleansing of my own soul. To ultimately ‘forge my own sword’. Indeed, there is a battle. The time is at hand.

The common materials for making a sword include copper, steel, bronze and iron. The four significant features to decide the extent of its quality are strength, balance, flexibility and hardness. It is best to get the essentials ready before you proceed. It goes without saying no forging process can proceed without a forge. You must take time to prepare for your forge. Be sure you are ready.

The soul of my sword is made from the energy of an all-encompassing, albeit new, realization and comprehension of my own emotion, experience, absolute truth and what I believe to be ‘right action’.

A year ago, almost, I confided in a few ‘friends’ that I was embarking on a social experiment. I had no idea what on earth I was doing or how it was going to go. What I did know is the fact I had a profoundly deep feeling of dread in my gut. I knew a year ago things were going to get more and more restricted. My gut knew that things were not at all as they seemed. I was upset at the blatant manipulation and lies that were being spread everywhere, suffocating the spirit of the good. I was saddened by the inability of the masses to obtain the truth from any remote commercial form. In all honesty,  my already broken heart was hurting.

Due to my own circumstances and background…. (I somehow found myself in a ‘scene’ that had become somewhat stale and of no substance)… I was feeling scared, afraid and alone. I don’t see myself as particularly brave. I have acted cowardly at times, especially when seeking the path I must take to ascertain what I believe to be the right action. This truly offends the contract of my soul. With God’s merciful grace, he knows I am not a coward.

Naively and in hind-sight I admit, really foolishly, I attempted to ‘do my bit’ in defending the good people simply sharing the truth I had found from my own research. I had only a handful of people respond in a positive way. I received an immense amount of ridicule. I was baffled by that. I have always been a spiritual seeker of truth. I have no time now for spiritual peasants.

As I said before I felt it in my gut.  I had many ‘friends’. I’m an empath and I could feel strongly their misunderstanding of my obsession with revealing the truth. How do I know truth from fiction? I simply feel it. I feel the resonance of love when I hear truth. I didn’t for a second believe the scripted crap on the telly or in the papers….. For a soul that has struggled with addiction, I know the power of lies. I lied incessantly throughout my life in active addiction to cover my own soul’s darkness. What you give out, you get back. Tenfold. Universal law.

I have lied, manipulated and cheated loved ones in my past. I was unfaithful to all my loves, all but one. My past transgressions came back with a wrath of vengeance and with just one almighty blow,  literally blew my world apart. It’s taken me enough reflection and healing time to understand the necessity for it now. It was imperative to wake me up. I transmute and transcend the experience by thanking the universe for being a good teacher.

The signs from the universe have always been there to enlighten me to the delights and more often than not, the trouble that lay ahead. And what did I do each time? Run, well actually charge, straight into it. When you charge into something, you pay the price. You only defend when you are attacked. It’s the law of the universe. Cause and effect. Think about it.

Regardless of the consequences, unmindfully disrespecting the wise words of wisdom from my loved ones kept me on a cycle of destruction. I never heeded my mother’s words (she was right about everything and everyone!). I stupidly forged ahead into detrimental situations.  I did it to myself. I did it to myself. I did it to myself.

You live and learn.

Don’t we all?

You live and learn. Think about it.

I want no part and will have no part telling or even hearing lies. This is a bold statement. Coming from someone who’s told whoppers over the years to aid the ‘circumstances’ of the paths I chose on my soul’s journey. The genuine people in my life I’ve apologised to, after swallowing my pride, and explained myself with reason.

I refuse any form of connection with those that are false. I find gossip repellent. I find it unsettling to the point of utter disdain. I have cut emotional cords with people believing and listening to poison. We as people can be tricked by some simple images and a few words. Dirty tricks. We as people must be wise and see all sides to find out the truth. There are always two sides to a story. Think about it.

I have cut the emotional cords I had with the people acquiescing. Separating the wheat from the chaff. This has not been an easy task for me at all. The pain of letting go of loved ones nearly killed me. Nearly. One of the wisest and most extraordinary souls once told me to prepare myself for a lonely journey, ‘For a prophet is never a prophet in his own home’.

I stand firm in my opinions, beliefs and the sovereignty of my soul.

One of my many, many flaws, is being a people pleaser. I hate confrontation. I had a massive fear of abandonment alongside a raging temper, it goes without having to say, confrontation never bodes well for me, or the significant others involved in that matter.

Swimming against the tide causes friction. Being controversial has always been a ‘thing’ for me. I despise the social norm enormously. I always have. I have never been a sheep. I will never follow a sheep. I am an Eagle. An eagle doesn’t knock around with pigeons either, and if I foolishly do in a momentary lapse of consciousness, I, with Godspeed, go my own way again. I do my own thing. I fly.

The collective term for a gathering of Eagles is a convocation. The term convocation is also used for a gathering of holy men. I find that interesting.

It’s my choice to go with the flow of divine truth. I will live with my own tribe now. My tribe think for themselves. My tribe has a strong gut instinct of what rules to follow. My tribe knows wrong from right.

I have always had a rebellious soul. I have always done whatever I wanted to do at all times. This can be a selfish act but I’ve always followed thoroughly the direction of my souls journey. I have been a true seeker of heaven and hell, love and hate, death and rebirth. The duality of my soul’s dark and light. The exploration of my own darkness has cost me dearly. My health, my reputation, my dreams, and most importantly true love has been stolen from me by my own actions. By my own free will, I became a thief in the night to steal any goodness bestowed before me.

Sometimes you have to use guile and aggression under the guise you’re playing the fool. Sometimes you are the fool. Sometimes the fool gets played. That’s life.

Recreational habits have been discarded. Momentarily, my dreams and aspirations had been misplaced. I was drawn towards my past. I was born in the year of the horse. I was born in 1978. The birth of PUNK. A loud and aggressive form of art. Now is not the time for politeness or worrying that ‘you might hurt someone’s feelings’… PUNK.

This book is my testimony of what it’s like in the trenches of my manor.

People are desperate. Unemployment is at an all-time high. Local and small shops and services, often family-run and owned independently are being forced into closure. It grieves me that not only are they falling into financial ruin and reaping huge amounts of debts, but their dreams are also being destroyed. They all start with an idea. A dream. A baker, a tailor, a restaurant, a pet shop, etc. all begin with an idea. A brave new dream or maybe even an ancestor’s, that has proudly been passed down through a long line of hard-working family tradition. These hard-working and quite rightly so proud people have become dependant on ‘benefits’. The ‘benefits’ are a pittance. It’s a fact that people are unable to buy decent food. It’s a fact that people are having to make a choice, whether to put the heating on or have a hot bath. If they are lucky!. I know this fact because I am one of the people. I am blessed to still have a roof over my head. Even in my darkest moments I always count my blessings.

For the last year I have frequented the local squats and drug dens hanging out with addicts and the homeless. I’ve witnessed swigging of passed round bottles, the sharing of drug paraphernalia and worst of all, I’ve been a part of… hugging… and great big hugs at that. Yeah. I’m one of them.

Strangely enough none of us ever got a bug, or became ill. If anyone should have witnessed people dropping like flies due to a bug, I should of. Right?

I’d like to point out I do not condone the abuse of drugs and alcohol but with an understanding heart I refuse to turn my back on those in active addiction needing help. I’ll always hear them out. That’s what friends are for right? I’m blessed to have proper mates that have come round to see me or picked up the telephone and called. Not a text. You can tell so much by hearing someone’s voice. Now is a crucial time to know who your true friends are. I treasure mine, though they are few. I believe in quality rather than quantity. It’s a sad day when you look at your mates and realise you don’t know any of them at all. Good riddance to fair-weather friends.

People in the trenches are broke, suffering and lonely. I am one of the people. I found myself on a very lonely path when taking part in the fight to raise awareness of human sex trafficking and child abuse. It’s a subject nobody wants to speak about. People prefer to bang on and on about a rebranding of the flu which has a 99 percent recovery rate. Fact. Would it be different if it happened to one of their own? This may be a tough pill to swallow. Think about it.

My father went to prison for grievous bodily harm and actual bodily harm of my mother and molestation of the child. The child was me. I was two.

I don’t have a victim mentality but I know the severity of the detrimental effects this has on one’s life. In my early teenage years my rebellious punk attitude went into full swing. I started going clubbing at 12. I looked and acted ridiculously older than my age. I became sexually active age 13. I was doing sexual acts in cars near the gates of my school and then stripping at weekends in exclusive and affluent homes in the west end. I was lured by the sordid attention from old men and the filthy desire for money. For this I was no victim. I was consenting and believe it or not, I did it with those, I considered at the time, my friends. Fact. They are not friends of mine now. I thought I knew it all. I was young and stupid. I should of been at home with my mum.

My next point really shocked me to the core. Suicide is rife. I found out about the enormity of this unspoken and very real epidemic from a policeman. A good policeman who genuinely cares for the people. My prayers are going out to all the good policemen and women out there protecting and using their duty for good. It’s a tough time for all of us and I believe theirs is equally. He explained the main sector of people taking their own life were young healthy people between the age of 20-30 years old. His findings were many young people from other countries not receiving any ‘benefits’ and living in extortionately high rented bedsits and digs, that are more often ‘not fit for purpose’ and in a state of disrepair. They are unable to get home to their families. Think about it.
This horrified me. This angered me. I’ve had my own struggles with mental health over the years. Even though I have no blood relatives, I have been blessed with my mates who come round to my home and drag me back from entering my own gates of hell. I am so fortunate to have friends not only in the lower realms of existence, but ones in the highest of realms too. I am thankful with every beat of my heart for them. I make sure they know too.

Love. Love. Love.

None of my findings have been highlighted on the telly or in the papers. This offends my soul.

Human nature going against the grain. Separation.

Losing our soul sovereignty and dignity.

Extraction of self-respect with the masses walking around like masked goons, under the false pretense they are protecting others. We have been worn down by a very clever narrative. It’s unbelievable to see our freedom crumbling before our eyes, under the guise of freedom.

People. Good people. We need each other. We always have. If you have any light within you left. Let it shine. Stand on your own two feet. You will find, you are not alone. Have a mind of your own. Think for yourself.



Choose your side.

The masked from the unmasked. The insane from the sane. Good or evil. Choose your side or your choice shall be taken for you.

This is the time of the reckoning. Its all there in the good book. Revelations. Read aloud.

I have documented my last year with photographs and my writings. This is my absolute truth and what I believe to be the right action.