[Andrew Gubb]

2007: Home-school

I decide that I can study better at home. I don't quite realise, or manage to accept anyway, that studying itself is bullshi't, and that school is bullsh'it. I'm still labouring under the illusion that the world is right for regimenting and classifying humans until they become machines, and I am wrong in having passion and love for learning.

I start off my home-schooling year with determination. In a month I'm spending almost all my time at home alone, sleeping 12 hours a day and alternately attempting to drown my suffering in distractions and porn, and looking for a way out. I read a hell of a lot of Stevepavlina.com, get into anarchist literature, more psychology, and finally spirituality. I had been an arrogant skeptic, but Eckhart Tolle's book with the help of Steve's gentle challenging me to expand my horizons finally show me what I always knew: that suffering is something rather subtle and not caused by any physical lack. I had known this. I remember writing something similar as a child: "if you want to be happy, BE HAPPY. It's pretty much that simple". And yet I had decided to forget it.

By the end of the year, I'm in a terrible state. My emotions have been festering. My mental structures have been built to gargantuan heights. My anger is an incredible ticking time bomb, having built up more and more under my inability to express myself. ("DON'T BE ANGRY!!")

I go to school to do my first exam. I do a kinda crazy oral topic for Spanish (kinda interesting I thought, but probably not what the teachers wanted. Fu'ck the teachers).

Oh yes, a week or so before this I had replied to an email from a teacher with the common-sense that she should treat me as an equal. The BITC'H replied to this to my father instead, like I wasn't an adult.

If I had been telling teachers to treat me as an equal, I would have been expelled a long time ago. Now my anger is overflowing.

So she, the cowardly who're, has her husband talk to me about it when I came over for the exam instead of looking me in the eyes and saying that she didn't consider me an equal. I replied to him with nothing more than common sense, too angry and too determined to care what happened. I told myself beforehand, "if I have to sacrifice my integrity, then I will give up the exams". He didn't like common sense, and "requested" that I leave the premises. I told him I couldn't find my bag, and strung him along "looking for it" as long as I could, despite threats to call the police.

Then I stole back to spend time with a kid I had made friends with. I tried to teach him to rebel against school. I don't know if I really cared about him or if this was entirely my runaway ego at work. I don't think I was necessarily a good influence, anyway. But the guy did have some soul, which the school will attempt to torture out of him as he grows up. I hope he does ok.

I write a manifesto on what's wrong with the school system after that to give out, but I'm still too angry to be rational, and at the end of it is too full of the mental masturbation I'm so fond of. I read it recently and it's not bad. But I don't think anyone at King's would have listened. And anyhow I needed to be helping myself.

After that I have something of a nervous breakdown. Anxiety attacks where I need to sleep with my mother. Feelings of panic where anyone "suggests" something bad, whenever I think of a sickness say, that the bad thing will get stuck to me ("suggestion" is something I heard of when I read about hypnosis, and my fear latched onto that and made me scared whenever I had a bad thought. The fear would magnify the thought, repeat it, and create a cycle of fear).

I started trying to solve the meaning of life to write a book that would change the world. Though I HAD read the Power of Now... its good advice didn't help much. I began thinking continuously, even sometimes unable to sleep.

I got into magic and subjective reality. I started messing with ideas about demons and stuff, different ways of viewing reality. Some of it was quite smart. But I was only doing it by increasing my anger and fear to the point that I could break through my own resistence to being smart... ****ed up no? I started writing REAMS of half-genius, half-insane ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, and sending all my friends really STUPID emails (my real friends, I still have). I also sent insane egotistical emails to guys like Steve and Erin, which I hope their spirit guides inspired them not to open.

Too scared or ashamed of my sexuality to approach a woman in the normal way, I used telepathy and empathy to do some sort of passive-aggressive mental sex when sitting next to women -- two women, one on the plane and another in a lecture. I get the first one really hot by projecting sex vibes into her, though when her conscious mind breaks in she stops me going further. The second one I believe was a telepath. Unless I was totally deluding myself by this time, but I think I wasn't. We talked by telepathy and with my massive uncontrolled spiritual force, me feeling as weak as a child but with the spiritual power of a master, I smashed her defenses and ravished her... mentally. In a lecture.

Later because of some mental idea that popped into my head I masturbated over my cat, and probed her vagina, experimenting with the flow of energy between us. I was experimenting a lot with the flow of energy. That, though, is what makes me most ♥♥♥'king ashamed. Shi't... my NAME is on this post.

Later on I stood before the sea without my glasses on and saw the whales were coming up for air. So I did my magic visualisations etc that I had invented myself and focused as hard as I had ever focused in my life. Supposedly, I was trying to fix my poor eyesight with willpower, which I had heard was possible. I broke through some sort of barrier, and time slowed right down, and my vision zoomed right in and saw whale after whale break the surface. I think they had come to bask in my energy. There was enough of it; everyone was getting some but me. After that, almost fainting, I touched my sister and vampire'd some of her energy out of her.

I was completely and utterly insane by this time. I spent another day doing all sorts of magic and psi and energy and WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT, feeling completely unable to stop, totally addicted. Timothy Ferris wrote something like "I felt like I was on a runaway freight train with no brakes, throwing coal on the fire for lack of a better option". This describes me completely. Finally I used so much energy that I felt I was going to be torn out of my own body.

I crashed. After that I swore to become a monk or something, and to give up my own power. In my darkness I still believed that the choice was either be a victim, or be a tyrant. But I think my calling out for help saved me, anyway. I played the next year or so safe, unemployed and languishing at home, and slowly rose out of my pit.

A FEW MONTHS AGO

A painter and his wife visit the house. They invite me to come see some art with them. I'm like, "Well... I can't really, my timetable's pretty full, I've got a lot of languishing in my own misery to do, but... fu'ck it". I ask them what it takes to be a painter, and get invited to do an apprenticeship with him. I accept and go to France.

In France I begin feeling better and better, and the stuff I write in my journal is pretty inspired. My intuition grows, this time me not needing to resist my resistence to my own power for it to happen. I begin to awaken to my psychic abilities in a much more gentle way.

After a month, I go home. And I suddenly realise how horrible the energy there is. I make a psychic shield. The day after that, I have my psychic reading with Erin (the divine guidance in my life is obvious there).

She tells me that I have a powerful core of light, but my parents and other demons were dragging me down. That my sickness was resolveable. That I should talk to a real health expert, not these insane witch-doctors called the national health service. She also broke down the last of my skepticism in psychic stuff and reincarnation (yes, when I was using telepathy before I was at some level skeptical about it still. Resisting my resistance). I cried a lot during that phonecall. She saved my life.

The day after, I went for a long walk and cleared my chakras like she told me to. I sense the energy grasping after me as I leave the place. When I return, my intuition's increased to the point I can sense the house as a presence. It's... indescribable. Within 200 metres I start crying uncontrollably. I feel like I'm dying. I feel like Jesus walking to Golgotha.

In there, it's... torture. I tell the guest that unfortunately I couldn't stay long enough to help her with her business venture, much as I'd like to, but I recommend she aims high. Then I leave her room and go to the kitchen where I proceed to spend about an hour (I don't know) crying uncontrollably, even screaming in torment. There's so much suffering in the house, so much... hanging in the air... it's like the air is whispering, poisonous thoughts repeated again and again until they've become part of it.

Finally I pack my bag and run away.

Some months after that, I'm in Barcelona and beginning my life. I've found some of the most amazing friends, and my psychic abilities and personal development are skyrocketing.

I cry quite a lot these days.