Fear in Megaland
(Note: Some place names, humans and facts have been changed for the lulz)
COVENTRY, England. A few days ago I began receiving messages from Absolutus (Part I, Part II). Absolutus is Illuminatus in the future, communicating with me from the next level in the Fractal. His name literally means: Absolute Illuminatus. Any questions you have concerning concentration meditation, please refer to those threads. I have a complete post about it coming soon.
I had stopped practising both concentration and insight meditation formally since growing disillusioned with Ingram following achieving First Path and it having not been the shits and whistles I thought it would be. After reading Absolutus’s tech, however, I immediately practised concentration meditation and, over the next two days, consecutively fell into the most intense non-drug jhanas I have ever experienced. We are talking full-on supra-LSD states whereby the tiniest microcosm of experience can be dissected to yield its truth. This level of concentration naturally segued into insight meditation and I instantly acquired a full-blown Arising & Passing Away — the extent to which I had not experienced before, especially since quitting “cycling” about eight months ago. I watched the sunset, turned away and, in the afterimage, saw rainbow LSD fractals without even trying (and despite not being on any drugs).
This naturally paved the way to a Dissolution, which brings us to yesterday, and another eight hours spent in jhana. For those who haven’t experienced such things, eight hours in a Dissolution is probably the most boring thing in the world. I literally just wanted to sleep. However, I reacquired the ability to “fade” my body which I had begun to experience during First Path — but now it seemed to be coming to me in some sort of triumphant perfection. I immediately quit myofascial unwinding when I realized I could simply “fade out” a body part and have it rematerialize healed. This sounds completely fucking nonsense, as most of this post will — I understand that. But I am talking about age-old nerve problems caused by excessive computer use and weird sleep positions immaculately phased back to normal in one thought-action. I will gladly submit to EEG or MRI testing to show this in real-time (as Absolutus himself does) — as I am as interested to see the results as anyone else is.
At this point I entered a full-blown Fear schedule, as regular as clockwork, as anyone who has read and/or practised Ingram will understand. I had arranged to meet friends at a curry house in town — the roughest part of town, where I used to live, actually — and began walking there, still “healing” old body parts. On the way was everything you would expect from a Fear cycle. At one point I saw some sixteen-year-old kid punching every wheelie bin in a row as hard as he could, each blow ringing in my ears as waves of sensations to the extent only perceivable by advanced insight meditation. “There’s another one!” he yelled, in a girl’s voice, smashing the bin over. Turning a corner, I saw a body being loaded into an ambulance, red and blue lights still flashing. Friends and family looked on, and I heard one say, “We never thought he would go like this”, as they removed the resuscitation devices from the corpse.
When practising insight meditation, the universe gets VERY subjective. For example, after just achieving First Path, when I was in my first serious post-Fruition Dissolution (the territory being just as hard during the first revisit as Ingram describes), I was practising with the rock band I was in at the time. Everyone was slightly off — out of time, or out of tune. It seemed like my hands just weren’t in phase with the piano or the music. At the exact moment I clocked what was happening and thought, this is Dissolution, the lead guitarist turned around and said, “Everyone just seems disillusioned right now.” Literally. At. The. Exact. Moment.
To see kids punching wheelie bins and bodies being loaded into trucks was par for the course in Fear. I have some bizarre stories from First Path, which I wrote on here and subsequently deleted (as they were racist and I panicked). Maybe if you prod me I’ll repost it. 😉 Unfortunately, the only treatment for insight meditation–induced Fear is… more insight meditation. The only way out is through. Since this seemed like my lot for the night, I was somewhat content to stay investigating the stream. I got to the restaurant and met the boys and ordered the curry, which literally took forever to arrive. Literally meaning, literally. Time ceased to exist. At this point, I decided to break Fear and go to first jhana just for a rest. At this moment, I found the exact point at which concentration and insight meditation converge. The “stream” of sensations can be turned into a jhana, and the jhana can be broken down into sensations, and there is a delicate point at which both are true. I literally saw this in my mind’s eye as particles in a stream, similar to neurotransmitters in a synapse or blood cells in a vein or whatever the hell this is supposed be at 0:05 in this video. The “vein” is the experience or jhana; the “particles” are the sensations. At this moment, you are completely in The Now™. Absolutus is absolutely right — concentration meditation always encompasses insight meditation if done for long enough, and insight meditation always becomes concentration meditation. I realized I had been practising insight meditation for the last ten years, ever since Dr Paul on David DeAngelo explained the concept of “observing ego”. At that moment, the Universe became aware of itself.
Finding this perfect balance between insight and jhana, I decided to break my several weeks of non-smoking and go to the shop next door for a celebratory cigarette. While smoking outside, a homeless black man approached and offered me a range of aftershaves he had just stolen from a Marks & Spencer in Birmingham. I asked if he had Issaye Miyake (Sport is the best aftershave ever) and he said, “Nah man, that’s the only one I don’t got!” I told him to walk on. However, he passed again and I asked what he had. I liked the look of two of them and asked him how much. He wanted £40, but I talked him down to £20 because when you’re in Fear you have to worry about money, even if you are profiting off a homeless man’s boldness. Here are the aftershaves I bought:
Now, I don’t know if they are real or if they are worth what he said, but apparently that’s about £160 of aftershave for £20. I’m not a socialist – I actually admit it when I’m stealing wealth from others. But to prison-shiv a faceless megacorp and give a hobo his burgled ride home was enough to give me a semi-on.
I went back in to pay for the meal with my friends and we divided up the bill. After paying our respective shares it was down to the last guy to pay the final balance. “How much is it?” he asked. “Ten twenty please, mate.” I took out my phone and showed everyone that the exact time was indeed 10:20pm. No one cared.
We went to the pub across the street, a horrible little shithole quite adequate for fulfilling the role of Fear. Boxing blared on the screens while some mouth-breather booted a football game machine that scores points for violence. Utterly bored by my companions’ interest in the boxing, I spied a fruit machine.
Gambling when you can do magick is a problem. The problem is that you want to continue doing magick long after you have spent all your magick. Using magick in the past I have pulled in huge wins, such as the following in a single spin:
I have then consistently gone on to lose everything (and more) over the next several hours, which are usually spent in Dissolution, since magick is most prominent during the Arising & Passing Away.
But, I was bored. So I walked over to the fruit machine. To do magick in Fear is not pleasant as you have to state-match the phase you’re in (Fear) before making the intention. To full-state-match Fear is pretty bogus in public, so I settled for a partial state-match and played, got on the superfeature immediately and took a £25 streak for just £5 in. I played some pool, saw every particle’s movement and path in advance (and was still shit), and then went on to another fruit machine. I got superfeature again, when some jackass came over and tweaked my collar. “What?” I asked, as any normal human would. He seemed as bewildered as me. He literally only meant to do me harm. I interpreted this as a nudge from the universe to continue experiencing Fear rather than deviating into magickal Arising & Passing, so I collected and left.
The next bar was a student haunt, in full swing due to the start of the new Freshers’ Week. I forgot how irritating eighteen-year-olds are. I haven’t seen people that irritating since I was that irritating. At this point I realized I had no neurotransmitters left to go into jhana to blank it all out as I normally would. Now, this is somewhat important, as I’ve been using jhana to effectively block out reality for quite some time now (without ever truly realizing it — the ego will convince you that it doesn’t exist). Jhana requires linking up sensations to form an artificial, coherent whole. You literally do this all the time when you construct reality anyway — that’s why you need to go to bed every night, to replenish, because a jhana is formed from consecutive neuronal discharge, which requires dopamine. When you are out of dopamine for frivolous use due to eight-hour jhanas in each of the previous two days, you are left with only insight meditation. And when the insight meditation sucks because you are surrounded by cunts and you are too depleted to want to bother, that only leaves — reality. It had been a long time since I had actually had to say, “Okay, let’s do reality.” I had to get to the bar. I was tempted to push in like the other eighteen-year-old shitbags, but decided that I am an Englishman and would impose my reality tunnel of making sure everybody got served in the right order no matter what. It generally feels good to impose your values on others, despite their inability to comprehend or appreciate them. I finally got served after bossing some people around, and ordered three double-vodka energies — to which I heard some knob remark, “Nice choice!” with a cocky wink. I glared him ice daggers which melted his hair where he stood. Adulthood. These people are worse than shit.
Still doing “reality”, I went and smoked in the garden. Two girls opened me with, “You can rest your drinks here if you like.” These kinds of invitations are actually playing out all the time, if you decide to notice them. I accepted the invitation and got the two other guys I was with involved. Both girls were doable, and the one that would become “mine” had some of the biggest tits I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen a lot of big tits. The biggest I’ve ever “had” were 38H. Now, you might imagine that they would be saggy at that size — and, believe me, that is usually the case. But these ones were perfectly round. They were also definitely real — ask my mouth. Or my knob. Such was their defiance of the laws of physics that I immediately emailed pictures to Professor Brian Cox at CERN, whenceforth he spent $36 billion of taxpayers’ money on pervy experiments to see if they were photoshopped, which they weren’t.
By the way, when I’m not slaving away at PPM for your benefit, I write trashy novels which have never been published. You’re seeing a bit of that now.
Naturally the conversation moved onto Jimmy Savile, and I told the two girls the following true story. I’ve met Jimmy Savile. My dad struck up a friendship with him back in the late Eighties / early Nineties, while he was in Stoke Mandeville hospital with a spinal injury. Stoke Mandeville was one of “Jimmy’s hospitals”, and he would regularly do the rounds meeting and greeting his guests. We didn’t know at the time that Sir Jimmy was also secretly stalking the morgues at night — but not many people did.
I met Jimmy Savile when I was four — and I have to say, he was a perfect gentleman. Now, I’m not saying he didn’t do what he did. I’m saying he didn’t do what he did to me.
My dad is very old-fashioned and, once he’s made his mind up about you, that’s you forever. Because he has only ever been friends with Jimmy Savile, in his mind Jimmy is a good guy. Dad takes us for a curry every Christmas, and one Christmas we were discussing the new revelations about Sir Jimmy as they unfolded. After mentioning each successive increase in the level of debauchery, my dad would say things like, “Well, the papers will print anything to sell copies.”
I said, “I’ve also heard he was doing dead bodies.”
“Well, the press will drag anyone’s name through the mud.”
Finally, I just said, “Dad – you sound like you think Jimmy Savile was innocent”. “He WAS innocent!” my father boomed, his fist slamming down on the table. And that was that.
The girls liked this story, and at this point I had Big Tits draped over me while one hand played with her bra, and the other girl was sat to my right with her hand on my thigh. We decided we were all moving on to the next bar together.
At this next place, things were winding down and it was about to close, so I realized I needed to make preparations for the next phase. I asked Tits to take a selfie of us both, which gave me the opportunity to whisper, “I’m going back to mine after this drink – are you coming?” while running my hand up her skirt underneath the table. “Yes!” she said. Not bad considering I was doing all this while in Fear. But the whole point of doing insight meditation is to realize that there is nothing to fear but Fear itself. That stupid phrase is actually true. The only purpose of any of these crazy models is just to keep you moving. Whether you subscribe to Eckhart Tolle’s “present moment”, or the Bible’s Golden Rule, you are ultimately following a program whose intent is to have you act in spite of yourself. What I like about Ingram’s model is that every human emotion that can possibly arise is catered for, with a simple repeatable process: See the sensations that make up every experience, and notice the impermanence in those sensations. It allows You to be You while the Other You does Other Things.
Now, here is where things get annoying. Usually after such an agreement is made with a woman, excuses are made and individuals depart in plausibly-deniable circumstances. She invited me outside for a cigarette and I thought such instances were about to happen. Instead, I saw her hesitate and decide we were going to go back inside to join our friends. Now, I have finally learned my lesson after all these years of trying to deprogram myself from Seduction Community nonsense that, sometimes, girls change their minds. Things happen. It’s not always my fault, and I can’t control every situation. As it stood, this was probably the least control I had ever attempted to exert over any situation, so things weren’t going that badly considering. She was only nineteen and some girls, especially younger ones, have confidence issues with having a one-night stand. I was just fine with how good, and weird, the night out had been.
We all decided to head to the Rum & Coke, which is the worst bar in England and the only one still open in this horrible town at 3am. “We” meaning “the others in the group” and me just not wanting to leave the night behind quite yet. Going to the Rum & Coke is always the worst choice. Everybody in the entire city all has the same idea, and from all walks of life descend upon this one place. Fights are completely common, and the entire venue is attended by the living, breathing scum of the Earth.
At this point some girl came forward shouting my name. I literally had no clue who she was, but she was using my real name and everything, which I never like. She also looked exactly like Kahlan Amnell from Legend of the Seeker, whom I have been wanking over solidly for the last two weeks:
She was wearing white and everything. She looked so much like her, that I actually got my phone out and googled Kahlan to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I showed other people the pictures. “Shit”, they said. At this point I asked her to confess me. I think this may have been what screwed it up. I am insane, I might point out. In any case, the atmosphere turned. I went and sat with Big Tits instead. She was talking to a beautiful blonde girl and what looked like the blonde’s boyfriend. I introduced myself and asked how they knew her. They said they didn’t and were just talking to random people. They then got into the Standard Questions™ and asked me how old I am. “Guess”, I said.
“23? 24?” said Blonde.
“I love you 🙂 “
“Haha. How old actually are you?”
“No way! You look so young!”
“I know. And do you want to know what my secret is?” I said.
“You’ll kick yourself…”
“What is it!”
“All I do is drain the life-force from children. It’s so simple.”
Big Tits made out with me at this point. Then she said she was sorry for not going home with me. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.” She gave me her number, then threw up on her shoes. Her friend took her home.
Having absolutely fucked it with Kahlan and every other decent girl in that bar, I decided to go home. “Okay mate, but we’re going to [local strip joint] the K-Hole”, my two buddies said. I wished them well.
I got home and saw a bush with apples growing on it. Full, ripe apples. This is completely impossible. Here is a picture of it:
Now, I know those apples aren’t growing on that bush. I know what you’re thinking: The tree simply has some branches that have grown through the bush, giving the appearance that the hedge is the one bearing the fruit. Right? It’s all completely explainable, simple and logical. But when I go and explore it, I will literally be creating the reality for myself that explains what I see. I’m not going to investigate it. I prefer to see it as a cheeky glitch in the Matrix — a little nudge, for nothing but the fun.
I took the best apple and noticed it had maggot holes in both sides. I cut it open and found the maggots had not penetrated far, and had then left. I cut those bits out and ate the apple. It was crisp and tart, like what an apple would taste like if humans hadn’t Josef-Mengele’d it for the last few hundred years. I decided I could happily survive on that if the world ended tomorrow, and went to bed.
I woke up to a text from one of my buddies saying he stayed up all night doing coke with a stripper. I had LSD fractals in my eyes, despite not doing any drugs the night before.
“Hey buddy, you’re still tripping 🙂 “, the Universe said.