Compassion:

As you’ll see, compassion and empathy are essential. The more innocent the creature, the closer he is to God. It’s about the innocence. Even satanists understand this. Satan desires to upset and injure the innocent in order to make God hurt. It’s been a long time. I know. This is theology 101. Elemental theology. Place aside your pride for a moment. Look, I understand how it seems. A guy comes off the streets and starts telling you what’s what. After millenia of study and discernment. Some matters were even concluded. As truth. Why should you listen to him? Well, if what he is saying makes sense, there may be a reason to listen to him. The innocence of a creature is what makes it special to Jehovah. This is what I have been saying the whole time. What we are is not what we do. If it were, what would be said of the children, the animals, the wounded, the elderly? These are the closest to God because these are the most like God. I have got to say, it’s a little frustrating you can’t see this. Compassion is what allows us to consider other factors before judging. It’s what allowed Jesus not to condemn the woman caught in adultery. What are some of the other factors involved? Well, it could be a great amount of trauma in her past. It could be that if you really want to think hard about it all, everybody is doing the same thing. Heck, it could even be that the man who was involved was trying to rape her and lied to avoid responsibility. In addition, the holier the spirit of a man, the more of a target he is to satan. The more a man means to God, the more satan will try to hurt him. It’s Biblical. Look at the Book of Job!

A child learns its value, worth and how to treat itself from its parents. The conscience wounded by abuse will have less value for itself than a child growing in normal circumstances. My circumstances were not based in reasonable choice. This self abuse, it was programed by the SRA. You’re not helping me by neglecting me. Whatever decision of mine inspired this savagery in you, it was not my decision. It was a programed alter. I realize this might be weird for you. I am not a normal person. You’re talking to a lot of different people within me. Please don’t hurt me. Even if I were the most villainous man on earth, the Bible tells us to pray for our enemies. Not to medically abuse them, neglect their needs and rob from them. The Bible testifies against you.

The medical procedures, the medical transport – commissioning two able-bodied men to drive to a place to transport on a stretcher, a human who cannot move themselves, the education – instilling in youth knowledge, wisdom, values, the food banks, even the roadways, police and fire protection, what’s it all for? Have you really forgotten? At one point in this world’s history, everything was done for love. Even the architecture was divine. This is not a crazy dream. It is completely attainable. Within a generation. EVERYTHING could be glorious again. Because, if you’re not doing these things for love, I wonder what you’re doing them for. It’s hard for me to understand why two, able-bodied men would drive to a place to help a person who cannot move, transporting them on a stretcher, if they had not love. Surely, it can’t be only the money. The economy is broken! Are you transporting a piece of meat? Ask yourself sincerely. Why do I do what I do? Nurses, are you patient? You’re called to be. God sees. Remember this. He do. And he’s keeping a list. Actually, you yourselves are the ones keeping the list, which will testify against you. Justice is coming…

This is where humanity’s evil comes out. This here, is where the concupiscence of man displays itself. Studying with the JW has filled my heart with a righteous hunger for positivity to put in my own heart. They have got quite the point. An area, which can be a beacon into our hearts. Like a window. The Bible says not to be lovers of violence. How’s your reaction when you see someone fall? Imagine the scene. Someone you hate (or even envy) falls and busts their head open. How do you react? It would not seem very Christian if you answered that you may rejoice over that, does it? I don’t say this to shame you. Just a rhetorical question for self-analysis. Envy has turned a lot of people into bullies. It’s okay. I know the reason you bully me. It’s because you know my future. You know who God says I am… Our culture has become a culture of death. Abortion on demand. Violent entertainment. Our culture has become evil as the nails of satan. Even you are not entirely culpable. But… you have the choice. You have the choice. We have gone from a society that defends life to a society that sees a man dying and walks on by. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest. But… We have the choice. It was learned. It can be unlearned. You cannot tell me that you like this. That you enjoy it. Yes, there is thrill in sin. But sin always leads to death. You are not doomed. Not all of you at least. This is about life. Am I not speaking sense? Ignore the politics. Estrange from it. If it’s inherent in my message, I cannot help that my story condemns this culture of death. This is where it changed. You have become estranged to the suffering of people. Even Christians. Think of the absurd irony behind this. I recognize my role in this but Jesus! Ask yourself, would a Christian use the physical, emotional and psychological distress of someone for the purpose of causing more pain? Voila. Bullies. I know it’s not actually you. I know your hearts are good. I say this very clearly. You cannot be a Christian and condemn life. You cannot be a Christian and ignore the suffering of others. You cannot be a Christian and weaponize someone’s suffering against them. Wake up, laity. I will wait patiently for you to wake up. Know you will.

While there is never reason to flee from God and doing His will, at times, there is reason for compassion. Remember the prophet Jonah. The law of nature. . . Is it Jehovah’s law? Nope. In fact. It’s the opposite of Jehovah’s law. Isn’t it? The idea of survival of the fittest is diabolic. It has a place in nature. This is not the way of God. The way of God is the small, the weak, the vulnerable, the innocent, the small-EST are the most prized in His Kingdom. Are you in Jehovah’s Kingdom, now? No. You have got a point. Do you desire to live for satan in the time you have on this earth? Before you say it’s not Biblical, read your Bible again. How long will I have to tolerate your hardness of heart?

 

Luke 15:11-32: Then he said: “A man had two sons. And the younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that should come to me.’ So he divided his belongings between them. A few days later, the younger son gathered all his things together and traveled to a distant country and there squandered his property by living a debauched life. When he had spent everything, a severe famine occurred throughout that country, and he fell into need. He even went and attached himself to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him into his fields to herd swine. And he longed to be filled with the carob pods that the swine were eating, but no one would give him anything. “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have more than enough bread, while I am dying here from hunger? I will get up and travel to my father and say to him: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy of being called your son. Make me as one of your hired men.”’ So he got up and went to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was moved with pity, and he ran and embraced him and tenderly kissed him. Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy of being called your son.’ But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quick! bring out a robe, the best one, and clothe him with it, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet. Also bring the fattened calf, slaughter it, and let us eat and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead but has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’ And they started to enjoy themselves. “Now his older son was in the field, and as he returned and got near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants to him and asked what was happening. He said to him, ‘Your brother has come, and your father slaughtered the fattened calf because he got him back in good health.’ But he became angry and refused to go in. Then his father came out and began to plead with him. In reply he said to his father, ‘Look! These many years I have slaved for you and never once did I disobey your orders, and yet you never once gave me a young goat to enjoy with my friends. But as soon as this son of yours arrived who squandered your belongings with prostitutes, you slaughtered the fattened calf for him.’ ^Then he said to him, ‘My son, you have always been with me, and all the things that are mine are yours. But we just had to celebrate and rejoice, for your brother was dead but has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”

In this parable, we recognize Jehovah’s compassion for sinners. You may even say that Jehovah, in fact, loves the sinner even more than the righteous son who had been with Him for the whole time. Why though? Is it because the sinner has merited this love? No. It’s all grace. Here, again, we see that your trophies and titles and prizes are meaningless to Jehovah. All He wants is your soul. Your surrender. Jehovah God loves the sinner more for one purpose. To draw the sinner to His heart. You are self-righteous. Your works are filthy rags. Doctors, astronauts, professors, presidents… It means nothing. Jehovah will install His own king to confound you. Here is the point: Jehovah is compassionate and overlooks transgressions. It’s for a reason. He forgives our sins when we seek Him in repentance because He sees the stumbling blocks, which have led to our sin. He forgives us because He sees that we are all in the same boat. We are all committing murder, adultery. It’s our pride that tries to tell us we have earned God’s love through our good behavior and accomplishments. I’m telling you. Wait for the secret sins to be unveiled. They will.

Levels of trauma. Severity of sin. Because the developmental trauma, we as a society, have a responsibility to rehabilitate these ones. We are not animals. This is about heart. I recognize the fact that I have struggled with my mission has affected the ‘heart’ of the world. I recognize that the cooling of hearts has been my fault. At the same time, while there is never reason to run from the will of God, sometimes, there are reasons worthy of compassion. Why do you think Jehovah chose to use me in spite of all this? And continues to choose to use me? Truth comes out at my death. Either way… Part of the problem is that you cannot see the connection with the way I have lived my life with the trauma. You still think your accomplishments and work as a person defines you. Even your caritas, even your love is not what defines you. For, if Jehovah sooner chooses the innocent child over even the priest, what could this say about your works? Your works are filthy rags. Greater is the sinning child, who acts out of frustration at not having his needs met, than the holiest and most charitable of adults. I keep saying it: the older you are, the more distant you are from the heart of Jehovah. It does not mean that you are evil and destined apart from Him. On the contrary. But, it often means you have secret sins to atone for. I was going to load this article with Bible verses supporting this claim that children are precious in the eyes of Jehovah. I don’t think it is necessary. The Bible verses are there. We all know them. If we have read the Bible at all. We simply need ask why? Why are children important to God? The reason you are so fascinated by proving your worth is because you feel inadequate. Your own sinfulness haunts you. There are many, many secret sins in the closet, which are coming out soon. Like a peacock, fluttering its feathers, it’s the reason you take such pride in your works and accomplishments. Are you a doctor? Are you a teacher? Are you an astronaut? Good. Humble yourselves. Know you are not God. I say again: The child is the most important to God. For this reason: His vulnerability. His innocence. His simplicity. True! Jehovah blesses with talents those He loves. But, He employs those in His service to the great commission over the development of talents. Do you use the Bible to justify being bullies? You admit yourselves there is more to be known than what’s in the Bible. Otherwise, what’s with the WT and Awake magazines? This is about power to you. Nothing else. Wait. Jehovah will show you. All it takes to see what I am against is a little bit of compassion. Jehovah chose me before I was born. He asked me to live this life. He knew the risks. It’s the reason He blesses me so much. You can’t see because you don’t understand what it’s like to suffer. Estrange yourselves. Estrange yourselves from all other knowledge right now. Even from what your teachers are instructing you. Consider this letter. Along with Scripture. Then you will see what is really happening. You will see that they are grasping straws to maintain their authority. True power, when it recognizes a greater authority. . . Well, I won’t finish that statement. Does it become envious and desire for the downfall and suffering of that one in greater authority? Hmm. Maybe it is what is wrong with our society. Kings assassinated. What happens when the greater authority is appointed by God Himself?

We are called to compassion. Jesus demonstrated this in his treatment of all. Even to the point of pardoning their sins. True, there is imprudent and prudent compassion. We cannot have compassion to the point of foolishness and to the point of becoming a doormat. Look guys, I recognize that there is a wisdom in preserving yourself. I get that you test me. For I know my past. It is my hope that when you realize the truth, you will help me. Until then, I will be patient and trust. God will show you. That I am innocent. That your plan is evil as the nails of satan. And what is happening in the world.

Luke 10:25-37: Now look! a man versed in the Law stood up to test him and said: “Teacher, what do I need to do to inherit everlasting life?”  He said to him: “What is written in the Law? How do you read?” In answer he said: “‘You must love Jehovah your God with your whole heart and with your whole soul and with your whole strength and with your whole mind’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’” He said to him: “You answered correctly; keep doing this and you will get life.” But wanting to prove himself righteous, the man said to Jesus: “Who really is my neighbor?” In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jerʹicho and fell victim to robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went off, leaving him half-dead. Now by coincidence a priest was going down on that road, but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the opposite side. But a certain Sa·marʹitan traveling the road came upon him, and at seeing him, he was moved with pity. So he approached him and bandaged his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. Then he mounted him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarʹii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said: ‘Take care of him, and whatever you spend besides this, I will repay you when I return.’ Who of these three seems to you to have made himself neighbor to the man who fell victim to the robbers?” He said: “The one who acted mercifully toward him.” Jesus then said to him: “Go and do the same yourself.”

Here, we see Scriptural evidence of the compassion of God embodied in the parable of a man who was considered unclean. In this parable, the perfection of compassion is illustrated. So, the Samaritan, at seeing the distress of this man, stops, goes beyond all expectation to help him. This Samaritan did not ask, is he a member of my religion, sect, race, nation? He did not ask what the injured man could do for him in return. In fact, he knew he probably would not be repaid. In this is compassion perfected. On the contrary, we see here a warning illustrated in the righteous men and the authority. Who knows the reason, their reason for abandoning this injured man. There may have even been good reason. Perhaps not a warning. Perhaps an invocation. But, we are called to something greater. For, even if the religious authority in this story had matter of duty or obligation, can you not see the lesson contained in this parable? Compassion even has greater importance.

Thinking about it all, it really is a heart issue. Our society has lost heart. Inherently, compassion is a western trait. Empathy for wounded people is a trait evident in Western cultures and within white cultures. The infiltration of other cultures to Canadian culture has eroded a sense of heart for people who are wounded. Let us remember our heart as a culture. It's not racist. It's simply that Christian cultures tend to be much more compassionate. As opposed to other cultures. It is not that only white people can be compassionate. It's just that Christian cultures tend to express empathy more. St Kateri, St Bakhita, St Martin de Pores. There are always exceptions to this rule. Keep persecuting me. I can take it.

Compassion in society is an illustration of where things have become twisted. When we have compassion called for entire groups of people because of the histories of their people, we ignore personal character. When we have entire groups of people labeled as villains because of the histories of their people. We ignore personal character. When we see sin as meriting compassion, we are not thinking straight. Guys, it is all dependent on how we view hearts. Not skin color. Not sexuality. Not gender. I might get some heat for saying it (and I say it with utmost sensitivity and care) that just because you are black does not mean that you are deserving of compassion. Just because you are native does not mean you are worthy of compassion. Just because you are homeless and poor does not mean you are worthy of compassion (although a bit more). Does not the Torah say the thing: do not judge a man because of his poverty or his riches? Use righteous discernment. Let us remember my good spiritual friend, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who encouraged us to judge people based not on their skin color but on the integrity of their character. Within every race, every sexuality, every financial class, every area of this world, you will have good. And you will have evil. Open your eyes. It is not a thing that some utopian government can fix. God Himself will fix it. I only encourage you to see compassion through the eyes of Jehovah. Do you think Jehovah did not know the man bed ridden for thirty-eight years would go and tell the pharisees who healed him? Jehovah did not let that stop Him. This is insight: Compassion is merited to the one who suffers. In spite of his reaction. Compassion is merited to the one who bleeds. In spite of the color blood he bleeds. Why do we have hospitals? To heal the wounded. What we have these days is a lot of people who are wounded in a way we cannot see. Healing is coming. Let us have a proper perspective of compassion. For when we understand what it is to be wounded, we understand what it is to heal. Is this not in the Bible? You’re not looking hard enough. It blows me away that you are having difficulty seeing this. Who is the one who suffers? Who really suffers from an event? Say you have a family. The young child in the family is beaten almost to death. This bears no semblance to my own story. Listen wide! Who is the one who is the direct victim? Is it the boy? Or is it the parents? This principle could be applied to cultural suffering. Yes, indeed, there will be residual suffering. The effects of the past will be felt. But, who is the real victim? Is it third grandchild of that person who suffered in the past? Or is it the person who suffered in the past himself? Common sense! Test it! There’s a lot of animosity these days because of this victim mentality that has been instilled into entire generations of youth. Rioting, firebombs. . . Are these methods of conflict resolution going to merit you compassion? They only serve to illustrate where the integrity of your own character is.

Emotional wounds can be as devastating as a loss of a limb. When trauma occurs, especially satanic developmental trauma, a rift is placed between God and the child. That rift is not because of their sin. As a matter of fact, they are completely innocent. The rift was created due to emotional trauma. How does one recover? Societal rehabilitation is necessary. This is a concept foreign to our culture. At least, the way our culture has grown to accept reality. How do you recognize the health of a society? By the way it treats their vulnerables and littles. A healthy society does not self-terminate by killing itself in the womb. A healthy society does not force their warriors onto the streets. I ask rhetorically, though already I know the answer, how would society have responded had I told the truth about what happened to me decades ago? When I was a child? After this injury? If your intellectual pride prevents you from seeing this with compassion, you only do not see how this affects you as well. It will happen. It is not my promise. It is God’s promise. The Era of Peace. Have your leaders instructed you, Christians, that it’s time to throw in the towel? And to forfeit? I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t this be something all crave and desire? You’re logic is absurd to me. This is not about inclusion. I just encourage you to see that compassion when it is warranted, is not only Biblical. It is Godly. It’s what separates humans from animals. I will wait until you realize my common sense. Allow yourself to be shepherded, you run the risk of being shepherded by wolves.

Mark 1:40-45: There also came to him a leper, pleading with him even on bended knee, saying to him: “If you just want to, you can make me clean.” At that he was moved with pity, and he stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him: “I want to! Be made clean.” Immediately the leprosy vanished from him, and he became clean. Then he gave him strict orders and at once sent him away, saying to him: “See that you say nothing to anyone, but go show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing the things Moses directed, for a witness to them.” But after going away, the man started to proclaim it a great deal and to spread the account widely, so that Jesus was no longer able to enter openly into a city, but he stayed outside in isolated places. Yet they kept coming to him from all sides.

Compassion that cares about getting its hands dirty is not real compassion. Jesus here, demonstrates the pure and holy and perfect love of Jehovah. In that, while the case may be, no one else would have wanted to help this man, Jehovah sees his heart. Here: who can blame everyone else for avoiding this guy? Torah itself proclaims people with skin disease as unclean. It was a matter of health. Can you not see the lesson in this? Jesus not only spoke compassionately to him. He reached out and touched him. Here, we see the miracle of the power of touch. Here, we see the miracle of the power of human intimacy and love as a testament for the saving power and unfailing love and grace and compassion of Jehovah. Guys, knowing a human loves you can show you that God loves you. For most, we get this touch and love in childhood. And from our mothers. What happens if we don’t? Dum dum dum… Human love can be the game changer. It can be the thing, which leads us to choose Jehovah over satan. Love over fear. Am I not speaking sense?

Empathy is what separates humans from animals. Humans from machines. The sheep from the goats. You could say that this is the point that makes us most like Jehovah. It’s what makes satanic ritual abuse so devastating. In that it severs the child’s conscience and inhibits their capacity for empathy. Look, I don’t want to hurt more. I have alters in me I do not even know about. These are entirely creations of the abuse I endured. To blame them on me would be like punishing a child for desiring to eat. I do not want to be hurt more. If leaders have instructed me to be silent, to do anything, it was not to me. It was to these alters. If you hurt me, it will have been your choice. Not mine. I do not remember anything they said. Your leaders have a responsibility to shepherd. Even me. If they are in fact, leaders. Which includes making sure I am aware of what they think God’s will is for me. No, it is envy, which plagues them. Watch them. They’ll try to trigger out these alters to trigger a reaction from me. The bullies! The jealous, envious bullies. It is like hitting an infant and saying ‘Aha!’ when it cries. Look guys, I am begging you not to hurt me. I cannot help that my story seems to so confound and upend all of your crackpot theories about the way society should be run. You are not giving me an opportunity to be silent. When you have a microphone in my room, access to everything I write, it is literally impossible for me to be silent. Do you see that? You are only trying to censor me. I understand the reason. It upends your whole narrative of power. The papacy will be restored to what it was in times of justice and peace. It’s the reason the previous pope got so vitriolic against me, isn’t it? The traditional Catholic Church is right. But the terrible, widespread plague of corruption and abuses of obedience kind of nullify the validity of the claim there once was to a fullness of truth. When the Witnesses find out what is happening here, they might just become the true ‘truer’ children of God. Catholics, are you sacrificing your election for the sake of your tradition? Do you enjoy being bullies?

Here's the thing: I want to keep this post short and simple. For the sake of brevity so that it will be a thing that your memories are able to retain. I was innocent. I was a child. Yes, children have inherited the curse of original sin. But, all children have not manifested that original sin in their hearts. Until the age of reason, children are the most innocent of creatures. Let me ask of you: what makes abortion so evil? If, after all, they are sinful, what’s the difference if we murder them? They deserve it, surely, if they are sinful. Do you see the logic? The same could be said of a year-old boy, a five-year-old girl. The same could be said for a twelve-year-old. This is a matter of truth. Children are innocent. Matt. 18:10 says:
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.”

I know I have commit a lot of sin in my life. I never said I was immaculate. I said I was inculpable. Satan and his natural inclination is to destroy that which is innocent, pure and spotless. It is no mystery as to why your world has come against me as enemy #1. Even if it is not overt at the moment. Your world has become satan’s tool for seeking my life. The same of the church. Because even in the church, there is a power dynamic. Even in the church, power has become of more importance than truth and compassion and love. Think about it. If I am crazy what does it matter what I say? I am going to die. Not because of my sin. God always desired for me to be happy at my death. He desired to protect me. It is because of who I am to God that makes me special. It is because of what I suffered for Him. Are you trying to execute the one who God says is special? I suppose it happened before. True Christians will see and recognize that there is a reason God wanted to protect this child. Worthy of compassion. Perhaps, he is worthy of compassion. His anger does not prove his sinfulness. He is angry, justifiably. It has only become the signal for bullies to say their ‘aha!’ about him. Again, if you knew that God desired something for someone, would you deprive it from him because of your envy? It’s not my sin that is hindering this.

When we understand the fact that everybody’s experience of life is different, this can do one of two things. Either, it can harden our hearts. We can look at our brother and sister as almost enemies and threats to our personal growth. This inspires us to look upon them, their experiences and even their trials as disdainful. We can do that. Or, we can commiserate with them. We can help them carry their burdens. We can laugh with them. Rejoice with them. Mourn with them. Pardon their offences. Compassion is not an option. If you are a Christ follower, a follower first of Jehovah, we are called to orderly and proper compassion. Sin is not so black and white. A person who commits a sin in his past may not remain there. The Gospel calls us all to change. Let us not take a snapshot of people in time and freeze them in that spot.

I’m just asking you to have reasonable and appropriate empathy. Here’s a thought for you. Everybody has the capacity to suffer on equal levels in this world. Though, some suffer a great deal more than others. Would we expect a person with no legs to ‘run’ a race? That’s preposterous. Certain things happen to people, which prevent them from doing other things as efficiently. That doesn’t mean that they don’t want to. Though they have not stopped them from trying, they just have physical or emotional or even psychological limitations because of experiences that have shaped them. Okay, it’s a complicated thought. But I hope you get the picture.

I want to offer you encouragement. Everyone’s journey is different. Not everyone experiences the same path on this life. But, we all experience hurt. We all have such beautifully made, intricate minds and bodies. It’s nothing short of incredible. The truth is that these systems can be hurt. It’s a difficult truth but if you really examine it for what it means, it is such a beautiful and precious truth. One that makes us all the more valuable and precious. Healing is a remarkably powerful and productive thing. What may hurt now can be amazing and such an opportunity for growth later. We all just need to understand to have empathy. Don’t forget the way your hearts have been touched deeply and positively in your lives. And seek out these experiences. Seek out these experiences and memories of love. Remember, we are all human beings. We all suffer greatly. This can be a matter which unites us greatly as a community. It doesn’t have to tear us apart. I want to encourage you to seek Christ. Seek God, the Father through His Word and His Son, Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. You have all been through so much. We don’t have to be so strong anymore. God loves you. This will not come as a shock to you. Things will make sense soon. Everything will work for the best. I promise you this. I hope you will be able to rejoice in what is happening. I am asking and praying for that. I want the best for your world. And nothing would make me happier in my soul to have people rejoice about what I have been called to do. Everything is for the glory of God.

But become kind to one another, tenderly compassionate, freely forgiving one another just as God also by Christ freely forgave you (Ephesians 4:32).

I recognize the problem here is that the truth about what happened to me is obfuscated. Even if it is in darkness, how it has affected me continues. It’s not a matter of lack of forgiveness. You hit somebody, it’s going to bruise. The same for emotions. The more intense the earlier it begins. You believe it to be a result of my sin that truth has not come out. God will show you. The reason truth must come out is for the world. I am not trying to hurt anyone. If people are hurt by truth, it will pale in comparison with the joy, which will follow. I do not want vengeance. I want the world to be blessed by my story. The reason my truth is obfuscated is because satan tries to hurt God by hurting me.

God bless you. Remember compassion. Your sacrifices of goats and smoke offerings are worthless without just a little bit of heart. Remember this: Jesus asks for mercy, not sacrifice.

Questions about Dissociative Identity Disorder:

What does dissociation feel like?

It’s hard to explain because I still really can’t tell when it’s happening at times. When I am aware, it often feels like a diminishing awareness. I become less conscious of my surroundings and senses. The easiest way for me to tell if I am dissociating is double vision. My awareness literally splits and fractures. This is evident in my vision. For the longest time, I believed it had something to do with my head injury and then suspected I had a brain tumor. Even a brain tumor wouldn’t explain this vision. It’s like my consciousness wants to depart momentarily. Like my field of vision turns into liquid. It’s like an out of body experience.

How did I first discover I have DID?

I had suspicion when I was about 13 or 14 and started hearing voices... These were different from the voices of God, which I have heard my entire life... And having severe memory lapses. Even though, my consciousness was very blurred at this time in the first place. At this time, an alter fronted quite a bit. His name is Klaus Jacob. He made his name and presence known. After the injury that happened, a psychiatrist actually wanted to diagnose me DID but I rejected it because I didn’t want more to be wrong. And so, for the next twenty or so years, I lived in the shadow of my consciousness. When I went to the religious community, apparently other alters fronted quite a bit. A couple of years after I left there, I began remembering that I had a fiancé. Funny thing. I didn’t remember almost a single thing about us. I grieved this for a while and lived as though I had a wife. I couldn’t understand how I could forget about something so precious. I started looking online about amnesia and realized quickly. Around this time, my alters began making themselves known to me.

How do I manage different personalities in day to day?

Most of my alters are coconscious. As far as I know. When other alters front, my host alter is not aware at all of what is happening. Some of my alters are completely fragmented. This was more severe when I was younger. I journal as a way to communicate between the alters. Something I have discovered over the past couple of years is that I can often encourage some of my alters to come out by doing something they like or listening to their music or eating their favorite foods.

Have I been seeking official diagnosis?

A psychiatrist suggested I have DID when I was young. Maybe 18. I rejected the diagnosis. (Actually, my abuser coaxed me into rejecting it). I rejected it on the basis that I had already been through so much. I have contacted a psychiatrist for a formal diagnosis. I don’t think that it is necessary as I am not seeking therapy. The goal of therapy in cases of DID is for the most part, reintegration. I am incredibly motivated towards reintegration on my own.

How can I be supported?

Comfort would be nice. Validation for what I endured. Reminders I am safe.

How can I ground?

I ground through prayer and self-soothing. Each alter has a different system of grounding.

Common misconceptions about DID I’d like to address?

Individuals with DID are as diverse as other people. There is nothing that is unique to us aside from the symptoms. A misconception I would want to address is how uncommon it is. In my opinion, it is much more common than we think. With less intense symptoms and more manageable symptoms. When you find out what happens in the world at the moment, you will see. 😉

How does DID affect my relationships and friendships?

It’s a little strange and has raised quite a barrier to developing long lasting relationships in the past. Some of my alters are very defensive and protective. They avoid all possible of being hurt. Including vulnerability. This has pushed quite a few people away. Including my fiancé. I repressed my sexuality when I was about 14. It was not a choice. It was a survival necessity. Intimacy became too painful. It just takes a little bit o' compassion, friends. ;) The trauma that caused DID for me, is more of what affected my friendships and relationships. I experienced ritual satanic abuse growing up. As a result of this, my conscience was broken and I developed not so great coping mechanisms. I was not always easy to get along with. To blame this on me would be like blaming the kid in school for shouting after the school bully had been stealing his lunch money daily for a year. If we understand causality, our entire understanding of sin and righteousness changes. Doesn’t it? Since realizing the root cause of my trauma and healing, I have been able to develop friendships and relationships that last.

Strategies to communicate with different personalities?

I try to journal mostly. My alters love their music. I can often encourage some of them out by listening to their music or doing things they like.

Comfortable in talking openly about my experiences?

Absolutely. Jehovah has commissioned me to speak about my experiences. I may have done so foolishly in the past. But, it’s for the good of the world and other people that I keep talking.

Advice for someone who suspects they have DID?

If you suspect you have DID, the best thing you can do is to be open with yourself. Be vulnerable. Be loving of yourself. Take your time with yourself. You are learning to care for yourself. Healing is not a race. Jesus and Jehovah love you very much. They desire to heal you. Forgive yourself. I think it may be a good idea to seek out a good support system of people who are loving and helpful. Get lots of sleep. Sleep and nutrition are essential.

Coping mechanisms for dealing with anxiety or stress?

I have coped with stress in different ways over my life. For the past ten years, my coping mechanisms have become much healthier. As a testimony to my faith, I have done about a 180 turn about in my life. What you are seeing now are wounds and scars. Or unfulfilled needs. The way I cope with stress now is through prayer, reading Scripture. I play chess also but that seems to be a healthy coping mechanism. Especially since I stopped using the chatbox! I am and have been a pleasant opponent for many years.

Safe space?

Each alter is a little different. The safe place of my core alter is a common uniting place we can go in difficulty. It is not so much a place. It’s a type of music. Retro and synthwave.

Triggers I try to avoid?

I don’t like being offered a lot of money. . .

Haha. Keep away my bullies! (Something tells me you already know and will try everything you can to trigger me. Cruelty!)

Daily activities with multiple personalities?

Well, I really like to spend each day, different day, connecting with a different alter. Up to three alters in a day, I think. I have over thirty known alters. Spending time with all of them is a full-time job.

Support system?

I have been blessed with a beautiful faith community. I have several wonderful, long-time friends who are very supportive. Though, most of them do not know about my DID, they have been very supportive in the traumas in my life they have known about. From what I remember, my fiancé was prepared to be supportive but I pushed her away.

Common challenges?

The challenges of living with DID can be difficult to navigate. The time loss and memory gaps are very frustrating. Even recently, at the religious community, much of my time there was lost because I was not processing the experiences as a normal person would. Up to recently, aspects of my life were completely in the dark to me. When my alters began introducing themselves to me, other memories began returning.

Positive aspects of living with DID?

Honestly, it’s as though I have developed a superpower. At least when my alters began appearing to me. I started almost like wildfire, learning I had talents I never knew I had, learning that I am incredibly romantic and gentle. Some of the things I have created, I haven’t a clue where they came from. Don’t be jealous so quickly. This all came at quite a cost. For the first 35 years of my life, I was like in a fog. I had no control over my life. And these creations, they are ALLL me. I crafted them in particularly stressful times when I was a child. They are my spirit. Even though the body lags. Jehovah has given me a tongue like a sword. Even though, as a speaker, I amount to little. Wait until I return. 😉

Strategies to integrate different personalities?

The strategies I employ, based on what I have been learning, are to treat my alters with love and respect. By doing so, I believe I can gain their trust and acceptance. I have been doing things that they like and eating their foods, listening to their music.

Therapy helped?

The therapy I have received in the past has been for different things. Easily able to see how all of it has helped me open myself to who I truly am on the inside. I am open to exploring group therapy for DID people in the future.

Wish more people understood about DID?

The human consciousness is vast. While some people cope better and navigate life better, I think categorizing people puts them in a box. We all experience amnesia, memory misfires. We all have different personalities as well. As a matter of fact, some of us may even have entire chapters of our lives that we are not entirely aware of.

Stigma about DID? How I handle?

I find it hurtful that a lot of people believe individuals with DID are dangerous or violent. I say this with sensitivity, being aware of my own past. Here’s the thing: DID often forms from terrible, awful trauma. In the frailest of developmental years. It’s all about how we cope with trauma. Which is what makes child abuse so reprehensible. Children have not been given the awareness of Jehovah and His Christ like an adult or even an older child. It’s true, children are naturally closer to God, spiritually. The younger you are, the more inclined one is to choose Jehovah. But, this inclination can be interrupted. It is essential to form your children well. Ritual abuse is especially evil. And much more common than we would want to believe. People with DID are not more dangerous than other people. But, there may be a greater need for compassion and rehabilitation on part of others to help us live and thrive.

How can friends be supportive in tough times?

Patience. Persistence and encouragement.

How would explain DID to someone who doesn’t know?

DID is easy to understand, I think. If you think of a person, in perfection, as a cup, trauma, pain and distress can be poured into you. After a while, you may overflow. Trauma may overflow. What happens to that trauma? What happens to you? If you were to contain any more, you would cease to live. So, the trauma compartmentalizes. Children are incredibly resilient in their frailty. The trauma pours over. To contain it, the person creates new identities in order to cope with this pain.

How has affected sense of identity?

Until I was about 35 years old, I had no idea who I was. My alters revealing themselves to me has been like a celebration. I needed to cope and heal the trauma that caused it first. It’s like I have made a new family. My life has begun to make sense. It has been all worth it. This prize of getting to know my new family. I know for a fact, the prize Jehovah has in store for me will only get better to better to better.

Techniques to manage dissociative amnesia?

Since I realized recently about my mental health, I have got to admit, I haven’t thought much about this. I believe that my switches have become less common over the past years. In any case, this offers me a new challenge and goal to set.

Hobbies or activities?

My alters have a variety of different joys. Some like just walking in the rain, walking barefoot on the grass. Others, littles, like to play with toys and color. My core alter, Joshua Hope likes to watch a particular show and eat pizza. One alter wanted to read the Silmarillion. I am doing this now. Sometimes, alters even commission me to write books!

Handling conflicts between personalities?

A lot of internal dialogue. I am learning to employ a little discipline in my love for them. Early on, I listened to them and did what they desired. Then, one of my alters asked me to do something contrary to holiness. At this point, I met with all of them and set ground rules. It is very important to learn about discipline and firmness. As far as I know, I have no evil alters but I do have some who have hurt consciences. When one hurt alter asked to be a buddy with a little alter of mine, I did everything to ensure that little’s safety. Including asking my gatekeeper to supervise them.

How old was I when I realized I perceived things differently from others? Alters who kept other alters from this knowledge?

I grew up with this. I didn’t know my perceptions were different until I was in my late 30’s. Until then, everything just seemed, what I viewed, as normal. I had no frame of reference. Education is important. When I was younger, I was curious as to why I was increasingly having difficulty remembering my childhood, my teenage years. Again, I thought it was normal to forget. Years later, I would understand that memory is directly affected by the individual’s ability to process the information in their environment. The reason for my poor memory, growing up, was because of the trauma over the course of my life. Not the injury… But, my word! You sure will try to pin everything that troubles me on it, won’t you, my bullies? Not very ladylike to gaslight so terribly!

Am I always aware I am switching? Realize after fact?

Very rarely am I aware I switch. The alter who emerges knows but, afterwards, to my host and core, it is a blur. I recognize afterwards that time has elapsed. Mostly based on conversations and the fact that circumstances or environments have changed.

Open with others about types of trauma I endured?

I am open. I think it is my mission as a man of faith. Jehovah has commissioned me. We will see how common this sort of trauma is very soon.

How many alters do I have?

I have 35 alters who have revealed themselves to me. All of them are supportive. My core alter has revealed to me that I may have some hiding who are not so supportive. I can help them by prayer and loving the others.

Core alter?

My core alter is named Joshua Hope. He had a different name when he came to me. He has a sad history. But he has a triumphant victory in the end!

Gatekeeper?

My gatekeeper is named Steven. He is a little older. And one of my most righteous alters. Still, he is justifiably angry because of what we have endured. He thinks it is absurd that people think we simply allowed these sort of things to happen to me as we grew up. It takes a little bit of compassion to understand shame and how caretakers influence their subjects. If you teach an innocent creature it is only good for one thing, it is going to grow up in that direction. Steven is the one who has held back my memories and emotions until I was ready to deal with them.

Is therapy helpful for me?

Therapy in the past, for me, has not been exceptionally helpful because I did not understand what the true cause of my issues were then. Still, I am able to rejoice in that I went because everything led to the healing and person I am now.

How do I feel about integration?

Some of my alters have already integrated! I still do things they like. I see my alters as not magical creatures of their own being. Rather, I see them as a greater part of myself. I rejoice when they integrate. I don’t cease to include them though. Once, during a deliverance session, a coordinator asked me to renounce my alters. This made me feel uncomfortable and protective. I did not end up doing it. Here’s the thing: Different personalities are not demons. They are not impure spirits. They are wounded personalities. They need help, to learn to trust and care. Trying to cast them out is very retraumatizing and unnecessary.

Trans? Gay? Littles?

I do have a trans alter. I have 3 gay alters. I have a number of littles. As a man of faith, this has brought a lot of confusion to me. For most of my life, I have repressed these little guys because I feared them. I will not explore these aspects of my life because of my faith. Still, I know that Jehovah wants me to be happy. Let it be a bridge. This has given me a lot of understanding and insight into things happening in our world today. We all need to be a little more understanding. On every side.

Told friends about DID? How did they react?

Some friends have distanced themselves. Others are very supportive. Some of them pretend not even to hear what I say. I have one friend, my best friend, who has been supportive from the very beginning. When I told her, I was a little shocked at how well she took it. And her support has been amazing for me. She has even remembered some of their names and likes! I am still learning some of their likes!

How do I perceive my alters? See them? Hear them? Methods of communication?

I have seen them in the past. For the most part, they reveal themselves to me through their voices. It’s not of myself, the origin of these voices. At times, they are forceful. Others, gentle. They almost always dictate to me something I had no idea about before.

Pictures taken of certain alters? How do they feel?

Some of my alters will become cranky when their pictures are taken. It feels like a violation and triggers me greatly. I have calmed this trigger greatly. Have way, bullies!

 

The sign of the severity of the cruelty of a bully is the extent to which they will use the mental health and suffering of their victim in order to manipulate, gaslight or extort and insult for the purpose of getting a reaction. Watch them… Their true colors will expose…

Unity of the Common Good:

There was once an alien world, far, far away from this earth, our home. However far away it was, it was very much the same in many ways. It could have been said that while the fauna and life appeared vastly different, life in its intricacies and social char-isms remained the same with our world. This was true, except in one respect. On this world, there was a visually and unusually high gap between wealthy and poverty. That is to say, there was a marked distinction between the rich and the poor. Even in what were called developing states, this gap existed. 

At a point, the wealthy states, began to feel compassion and shame for these developing and underdeveloped states, on account of these states themselves and for the seemingly inherent tides of fate, which had chosen them as inheritors of goods. Because of this compassion and shame, these wealthier states began simply to allow skilled and higher-level citizens from these developing and underdeveloped states entry, believing themselves to be helping, to be making a difference, globally. For years, the leaders of wealthy states, cleared already occupied homes and apartment buildings, replacing the inhabitants with refuge seekers. Charities masked as fronts for human trafficking enterprises flourished with the promises of new life to these poor people, a veritable paradise on earth, where all dreams had, indeed come true. Slowly though, with years and decades passing, these new members of the wealthier states discovered their education and skills were not as valuable as in their own states. Some worked tirelessly in updating their education and skills. Many, many others, however, were left alone and in these strange places, to fend for themselves. Many of these accepted kindness of the host states by accepting tax-payer assistance. Others, in entire communities slept in tents on the streets. It goes without saying that this placed much stress on the economies of these states. Economies aside, many of these guests were saying they were better off in their home states. Nobody could really explain, as time endured, why the developing states from whence these guests had come seemed in worse condition than in the past. What was clearly tangible was that some were escaping the poverty of their developing home states. And that was good. What no one saw were the many more remaining in those developing states, those too poverty stricken, too unskilled or simply too wounded to seek their own escape. The educated, the skilled, their exodus from these helpless states truly affected their economies as well. For their departure held another meaning; this one few thought of. Their leaving meant their homes, these poorer states were losing their educated and their skilled, leaving only the vulnerable behind. 

One day, a strong woman came along, a good woman, an honest woman, who took control of the wealthiest state in this alien world. This particular state’s economy held great influence on the rest of this world’s economies. The first thing that she did in power, was to halt the flow of foreign workers to this state. Public opinion of this woman fell. Media declared her horrible names and tried to discredit her. She was a seasoned businesswoman and so, she kept her eye on the prize. She worked tirelessly at strengthening her state’s economy. And after she had succeeded, she began seeking ways to work with the leaders of the developing states, by making deals with them and giving them business, helping them into surplus. As often was the case, leaders had to be replaced as the problem turned out to be corruption. After the world economies were healed, there was celebration. The world rejoiced. No attention was given to this businesswoman. As a matter of fact, the media persisted in their insults and slander. She paid no heed, simply rejoicing alongside the rest silently. 

After this, with poverty in decline, with human trafficking in decline, there was unity in the common good. There ceased to the need for individuals to search for better life outside their states. Each individual state was thriving. Economy is about more than money, more than profit or surplus. It is about the happiness, well-being and effectiveness of people living within a state. And on this alien world, that turned out to be very important. Multiculturalism is a good thing. Integration is key. Strength in unity not diversity. Unity brings us together. 

 

Ever Marching Tide of Ideology:

The man was in his seventies. By this time in his life, he couldn’t walk long distances and used a wheelchair when he needed to go out. There was an anticipated demonstration that he had been reading about in the news over the past several weeks. The foundations of his country, being diminished each day, the concepts of freedom and justice started to escape the culture, to be replaced by an ersatz righteousness, the means of which was anything but. This day in particular, the demonstration was to be held outside the local university campus where a man was giving a speech that the protesters deemed hate speech. The man giving the speech was simply speaking about preserving the culture of the land in which he himself grew up in. The elderly man questioned the motives of the need to silence anyone. He was even more surprised when he discovered the topic of the speech, which everyone deemed hate speech. The man speaking was simply saying that we must follow laws. This particular day was a beautiful day. The setting of the story is in the country’s south, in the desert. So, saying it was beautiful means that it was cooler than normal and the sun was in cover. When he was dropped off in front of the campus by taxi cab, he collected his wheelchair from the trunk of the car. He couldn’t believe that anyone in their right mind could harm an old man in a wheelchair and so felt safe coming to this demonstration by himself. He had family but they were miles away, different parts of the country. He felt safe as he paced slowly down the campus sidewalk until the demonstration was in his view. patriotic elderly man waving countries flag, is attacked by those who share different ideas. - From my Book Fables of Good Will. 

Family Division:

Once upon a time, there was a family. This family was an ordinary family. A mother, a father and a couple of children. They were ordinary. That was until the birth of their third child, a son. The parents were not expecting to have another child so soon. And since they could not really afford this child, an extra mouth to feed, they resented him. They would constantly mistreat him and neglect him. And the family’s other two children imitated their parent’s hostility towards this child. The family watched with resentment as the young child grew, seemingly unaffected by this constant rejection and mistreatment. The child would simply glance over every instance of abuse that they would force in his direction. Instead, he seemed far more fascinated with the toys of his brother and sister. His parents never bought him toys. But every opportunity he had he would seek something productive to do. This child seemed to be growing, maturing much faster than any other normal child. He was walking by the time he was four months old and talking at two months. As he grew into a toddler, he graduated from these toys and started to read his parent’s book collection. No one could really explain from where he learned to read. But there he was, reading everything he could get his hands on. His family watched all of this with disdainful confusion but they were not swayed from their stubbornness to withhold love and affection from him. Until one day, the whole family were in the television room, watching a sports game. The game was half over when the little boy wandered into the room. The father yelled at the boy, “Get me a beer! Make yourself useful, will ya’?” So, the boy sauntered back from the room and entered the kitchen where he opened the fridge and collected a beer for his father and returned. When he pushed aside the TV room doorway, his older brother threw a shoe at him. It just missed him. “You’re interrupting the game!” The brother cried. The little boy dropped the beer and it broke. The father stood and rushed across the room, spattering, “You’re going to have to pay for that beer.” And he pushed the little boy. “Now, get me another one!” The father cried. The boy went, fetched another beer and returned. When he had set the beer down on the table next to his father, he squirmed into a seat between his mother and brother. The team they were cheering for was losing with twenty seconds left on the clock. Amidst sighs of defeat in the family home, the father was about to switch off the television, when the little boy said, “The team you are cheering for will win.” The family laughed at him with incredulity and the father smacked him across his head. The little boy went silent. The family stood and began doing things around their house. However, the father did not turn off the TV. The mother returned to the kitchen and the father started to play with his son and daughter as they sat with their toys. The brother and the sister laughed with glee as the father pretended to crash a couple of little dinkie cars together, making sputtering noises with his lips as they contacted each other. The little boy simply sat and watched the television. And when the game returned after a commercial, the time counted down. Until, the family heard uproarious applause on the lowered sound of the television. Their heads turned slowly and watched the game. Their team had won. The father called out with glee to the kitchen for the mother to return. The whole family was cheering and jumping up and down. Then their heads turned towards the little boy, seated on the sofa, quiet as ever. The father harrumphed and shook his head. The mother however, knelt down next to him and asked “How did you know?” The boy began by listing out factors such as the weather, the individual quality of the players on field and, the quality of the teams and the circumstances of the game. Who could understand him? To his father and even his mother who knelt next to him then, he spoke nonsense. Still the mother took note of this. After this incident, family business returned to normal. They whole family went back to their hostile treatment of the little boy and the little boy returned to his inner world of peace. Now, there was an election coming up soon in their country. In this election, there was a woman who spoke very brazenly. Because she spoke so abruptly on certain matters, some considered her to be offensive. This animosity between the press of the land and this woman candidate was very palpable. The funny thing was that none of that animosity was directed toward what this candidate was saying. Because what she was saying, to any reasonable mind, was well, reasonable. The animosity developed entirely because of the way she delivered her message. She was offensive, they said. Anyways, about a month into her campaign, pretty much every news program was covering this candidate 24 hours a day. It became a fad to make fun of her. There were polls, there were predictions and every poll, every prediction called that she would lose the election terribly. And one day, while the entire family were seated in their television room, the reporter made a humorous crack into the female candidate’s appearance, suggesting that she was too ugly to win the election. The entire family, there in the television room roared with laughter. The young boy simply sat calmly with his hands collected across his legs. The immediate silence that followed their laughter was broken by the young boy’s soft voice saying, “She will win the election.” The family turned their heads slowly to analyze him. All of a sudden, the father got visibly upset and started screaming at the boy. “Don’t you hear?” He sputtered, “She’s too ugly to win. TV says so.” The boy remained seated very still and smiled a little as his mother approached him and asked him why he would say such a thing. Again, he laid out before them a bunch of statistics, facts and knowledge she had no idea where he would have procured. She didn’t understand what he said. Something about voter demographics and the fact that she was speaking reasonably. The young brother and sister of the boy laughed virulently at him. And for the following two weeks, until the day of the election, the boy was shunned and forbidden from eating with the rest of the family. Scarcely did he receive anything at all to eat during those weeks. But when the night of the election came, the whole family once again sat in front of the television and tuned into the news. And when the votes started to turn in, predictions flipped. All of a sudden this female candidate was favorite. And after she had won a couple of provinces in the country, the reporter of the news station broke down in tears. The family looked at their son, the small boy and then back at the television screen with awe. From that day on, the family kept closer eyes on their son. They were trying to find out from where he got his information. And so, they put a microphone in his crib and, naturally, invited him to dinner more often. They would ask him questions at dinner, all of the time, in order to see if they could ascertain any other valuable information. The brother and sister even took part in these conversations, which they recorded. The little boy quickly became known as the four year old genius. Of course, his presence was not publicized in the mainstream media. And when the parents discovered that their son’s words were very valuable to others, they began to charge companies who wanted access to his knowledge. When the little boy was old enough, they would take him out to parties and for walks in his neighborhood. The public loved seeing him. They adored him. They called him affectionately, their little champ. And so, his popularity grew. One day, the little boy asked inquisitively where the money was going that his parents were making as a result of what he was saying. They simply announced proudly, “What money?” But the little boy knew their scheme. There was a massive company, which made a business out of selling air to the public. The air was top quality Oxygen, marketed as Himalayan air from the top of Mount Everest. It was packaged in paper boxes, with a straw in the top, where consumers could place both nostrils. The company wanted a good word about itself from the boy so they paid the family a lot of money to pursue him to say something good about them. This company already held the public in its grasp. The reason for this search was simply vanity. So, the family went to the boy, now getting older, sat him down to have dinner with them and started pummeling him with questions. The boy was suspicious because at the table, which remained unset with anything aside from these paper box things, there was also a large quantity of merchandise from this company. When they started to ask questions about his opinion about the company, he shrunk back in his chair and lowered his eyes. “I love O Two in Box,” said the mother triumphantly. The father echoed, “I won’t go a minute without real air, from O Two in a Box.” The brother and sister smiled eagerly. A moment of silence passed when, still staring at the little boy, the family asked the boy what he thought about the product. The boy looked up sadly and smiled a bit before saying softly, “I don’t get it. They’re just selling air.” The family chimed in, “But that is the point! Real air, they are selling.” The little boy shook his head a little. “Who told you this was real air?” And sniffing a big waft of air from the room, he said, “This is real air.” And standing, he moved to a different part of the room and repeated the gesture of sniffing at the air. “This is also real air.” The parents shifted the conversation quickly. The following day, the family were out for a walk when they ran into another couple of families they had known. They were near to a park. The families agreed to allow their children to go to the park while they talked near the benches. The father of the little boy was hesitant, not out of concern for the well-being of the boy but rather because he had made him so much money. Eventually they persuaded him to let the boy go along with the others. The boy went and when the other children, two or three bigger boys had him out of sight behind the playground, they started yelling at him. “You cost our dads so much money you little brat. Everyone knows that real air is only from O Two from a Box. Never say anything bad about this company again.” And from this day onward, people started to look angrily at the little boy. It got to the point where the little boy was rejected again by his family. He would not let this stop him though. He continued his personal studies at home. Though, from this time, he kept to himself much more. And even when his family invited him to dinner, to play or to watch television, he would refuse. It got to a point where his father started shouting at him and became violent because the boy seemed to want to spend more time with his thoughts than with his loving, concerned family. The fact is that he truly felt intimidated. 

He had developed so much intellectually and logically, you may say that he neglected to develop in other ways. Emotionally and mentally he was unequipped to handle this sort of stress. So, he did what seemed natural to him. He refocused his attention toward his thoughts. One day, when his family had had enough of his isolation, they summoned him once again. This time the family sent the mother to coax him with affection into taking part in the family again. He knew and understood well that they were probably not making much money at the moment and this was the reason for their constant nagging now. The mother stroked his hair and brushed his cheek with a soft hand. She kissed him and hugged him. Finally, the boy agreed to come to the supper table with his mother. And when she led him into the room, the family cheered, all smiling gleefully and warmly. As soon as he sat, his mother offered him choicest foods and drinks, all of which were his favorite. He wondered how many times, over the past month or so of his isolation, they had prepared for him his favorite meal, hoping that he would come. He accepted reluctantly, as his mother forced a spoon into his mouth. He was happy. For the first time in a long time, it felt like his family wanted to know him for him. Since his birth in actuality, he imagined. That was when they all began with the questions again. From his sister, “What do you think of the current situation in. . .” From his brother, “How much do you love. . .” From his father, I know I just love this product, how about you?” The boy looked politely into his lap and sat still a moment until his parents could tell he was not going to say anything. His father started to raise his voice a little. That was when the boy stood and went to walk out of the room. His father ran and stood in front of him, blocking his path. “You are my son. You will listen to me,” the man said with an unintended twist of his face. “Now, we are going to return to the family eating table and we are going to have a nice family conversation.” The boy said softly, “About what? Crazy products and other fads that need some advertisement?” The father looked at him with disbelief and incredulity. “What do you mean?” The boy smiled softly and said, “I know what you all are doing. I want you to stop.” The mother rushed across the room and knelt beside him as she attempted to win him over with affection again. While she was doing this, his father started pacing across the floor in front of them, muttering inaudible sentences. Finally, he stopped and turned to face the boy and his mother and said very harshly and very severely and again with that little twist on his face, “You are my son! You belong to me.” The rest, reader, the conclusion to this little tale of this unusual family is up to the reader’s imagination. Some say that the little boy ran away from home to find great uses for his talents. Others say that the boy finally asserted himself. Whatever the case may be, I can assure you that the boy found freedom and peace. - From my Book Fables of Good Will.

Vox!

A popular place to get information about what was happening in the world in these days was through a little box, government mandated to each home, called a televox. The man on the screen, whose constant presence was grating although, albeit comforting, spoke of different, graver subject matters lately.

The first time the concept of human beings needing air to breath was brought up in the town hall, most people in the good country were shocked, each of their very essences brought to a state of tumult. You could say easily that everything changed that day. The day that that one brazen man uttered the mention of the necessity of H2o for human survival. Don’t be mistaken, it certainly wasn’t the first time that people had come across the concept. It was however, the first time that someone had the shameful audacity to make this offensive statement.

The televox in its pervasive presence was not the only channel through which people could get their information about what was happening in these days. Another forum was of media was the “General Newsletter”, a sort of subscription database where everyone in the country could connect with each other. Everyone who was anyone was on this vast media network. If you weren’t on it, it was simply because you were too young or deemed to be a parasite, a prisoner or a slave. At first, this giant media presence was praised for its ability to connect others living far away from each other. 

Friends, you know, with whom you’ve lost contact with, could be put back in contact.

Danger of the Fork!:

There was a man named Paul who loved his fork. He brought it with him everywhere he went. ‘You never could be too careful’, Paul would spittle. ‘Never know when you run out of food’. Most people, would leave their forks at home these days. It was considered mildly offsetting. Many considered it akin to walking about the streets with no clothing on. So, you might be able to say that Paul was considered a little weird for his society. Many people in his home country tried to coax him, saying that forks were dangerous and that people could get hurt if he were to misuse it. They would tell him that the fork could get into the wrong hands and even if he didn’t intend to hurt anyone, someone could get hurt, with his fork. But Paul knew the truth. Paul knew a fork was only a tool. Paul was a studious man and was always in the town library. Paul knew that even though public perception about forks had gone downhill over the years, the country’s charter was never changed. The law of the land not only permitted forks to be present at any function social gathering or in public, it actually made a point in the charter of this land that everyone had the right to eat wherever they so pleased, and thus, having the right to eat, wherever they pleased, they also had the right to cutlery possession.

Paul, himself had gotten the idea to carry about his fork on his person when in an ancient politics course, where there was mention of something called ‘the charter’. Now this document known as the charter was an ancient and archaic piece of literature that strove to offer protection and rights to the citizens of the country. It sought to protect its citizens and grant them the right to protect themselves. But everyone knew that that document was written in a dead language. We live in enlightened times. There was a small, though growing group of people who had attached to Paul’s idea of carrying his fork around with him everywhere he went. This small group of people slowly burgeoned into a sizable portion of the population. As fork possession became more popular, as also did citizens of the country become more and more knowledgeable on issues of this charter. 

Paul was different. Paul was very knowledgeable of this document, which seemed to have become lost in the annals of time and memory to all others in the country. And while popularity of fork use was increasing, also did they who sought to suppress fork use. They, those in charge of the country, spent trillions of pesos into the channels through which public opinion could be swayed. 

Especially since ‘the great discourse of social accountability, utensil prohibition and disdain of cutlery’ of a century earlier. During this period of academic upheaval, fork use en mass was prohibited. There was in fact, a period of about a month where the soldiers of this great country visited door to door in order to confiscate the public’s forks. Some put up a fight, claiming right on a document known as the charter, an ancient and archaic piece of writing that strove to offer protection and rights to the citizens of the country. That document was written in a dead language. We live in enlightened times. To say the least, these brave souls were punished on site. They were punished terribly by manner of ‘can opener’. 

A popular place to get information about what was happening in the world in these days was through a little box, government mandated to each home, called a televox. The man on the screen, whose constant presence was grating although, albeit comforting, spoke of different subject matters lately.

And as so often is the case, in cases of suppression, all instance of the suppression slipped past everyone’s memory. The charter was never amended to exclude citizens from fork possession. It was simply assumed that they had all been confiscated.

Spotted Sun Geckos:

Once, there was a spotted sun gecko. He found a perfect spot to hide out. This spot was just perfect. On a black shingled tile. Right in the sun. He lay there like a little blob of joy, melting deeply into the shingled tile with the delightful suns rays. How delightful, spotted sun gecko thought. Is this paradise? He continued to think. Still, one thing was missing in his life. After a couple of hours, the suns rays began to recede and pass over the black shingled tile where he lay. Grimacing, frustrated, for spotted sun gecko could get mighty grumpy when he was in the shade, he quickly galloped across the shingled black tile and onto the next shingled black tile. Ahh! There! He exhaled heavily. The suns beams again illuminated his spotted gecko's body. After a moment, he relaxed. The shade had left him mighty chilly! Now, in the sun again, he thought, is this. . . Is this paradise? Moments passed, only moments this time and again he began to feel the frigid shade creeping, creeping across this spotted sun geckos body. Frustrated, he exhaled a harrumph and scurried onto the next shingled black tile and into the sun again. He had only just relaxed when again vapid shade crept across his lil reptiles body. Shaking his head with sheer determination, spotted sun gecko scurried across the black shingled tile a good distance away. It exhausted him. Sun geckos, you see, are naturally very lazy geckos! But when he stopped scurrying his little sun gecko legs, he was shocked at what he saw right before him. He saw another sun gecko! He had never seen a sun gecko so beautiful. My twin! He thought. My bone! My flesh! She smiled and beckoned to him. He followed her. They stopped in a big open yard, surrounded by fauna and other creatures. A place where the sun never seemed to set! Is this paradise? He asked her. 

Yes, she replied.

Golden Apple Stem:

Once, there was a sun traveler. This was no ordinary sun traveler. This sun traveler only traveled in the daylight. It's why they called him sun traveler. This sun traveler was a real pilgrim. He kept in his pocket a piece of paper, with his contact on it. He never knew where he would go or who he would meet. One sunny afternoon, sun traveler lifted his eyes to the skies when what did he see? He saw a massive ladder raising up, up, up into the clouds. There was a single, solitary cloud this day. And lo and behold, it covered the sun pleasantly protecting sun traveler's eyes from being hurt. The ladder shot right up, straight through it. He had many travels to undertake that day, many visits to conduct. Still, curiosity was piqued. And so, up, up, up sun traveler climbed until he was deep within the dense cloud. Clouds sure have more substance up close, when you're deep climbing through them! At a point he reached the peak of the cloud above which everything seemed to get dark. Still, he could not give up now! He had come so far! Besides, there was the sun! And, since sun traveler was a sun traveler, he kept moving, with it in his sight. Before long, the ladder opened up into a broad highway. The sides of which were beautified with plants that bloom at night. Spider plants and many nightshades littered the space on each side. Stars also illumined through, laying their light upon the path of the highway. The only thing is that this highway was empty. It was as though it had opened up just for sun traveler. There! He passed Venus. There! He passed Mercury! They don't look very habitable! But the warmth of the sun was becoming very pleasant. And it was becoming very big. Until, he stood before some gates. Shyly, sun traveler knocked his knobby knuckles upon the gates of the sun. There was a creak and a retort. "Yessus?" A woman's voice cried. "Can I help you?"

Sun traveler responded, "well, well, I'm not sure exactly. I'm looking for the sun."

Behind the gate, sun traveler heard another creak, and the same voice that said, "well, you have come to the right place, I reckon. Oh! Wait a minute! Which sun were you looking for?"

Sun traveler spat, " what kind of question is that? The sun! The earths sun!"

The voice said, "oh! You're looking for earths sun! Well, come in then, won't you?"

The gates were parted. Revealing behind them, vast fields of golden grass. Towering forests of trees with golden foliage. Even the houses there were gold. The water towers, the lampposts, the sewers even were gold! "Come on then! Don't you want to meet Him?"

Sun traveler responded, "who is He that I would want to meet Him?"

"He is the grand creator. He created all in these worlds. Including the other suns."

"I thought you were joking when you spoke about other suns. I'd love to meet Him. If He has time for me."

"Come then!" 

The two skipped down a golden road. Sun traveler stopped, picked a golden grape from the side of the street and put it in his mouth. It exploded into a vitamin of flavor. "What's He like?" Sun traveler asked. 

"Ask Him yourself. We're here!"

They stood out front of a library. A golden library. Entering, the library was empty. Except for one elderly man, leaning over the stack of books. She led sun traveler up to the man and cleared her throat. Instantly, he turned and a frown instantly turned to a welcoming smile. She left the two alone. Sun traveler asked Him questions. Smiled and made gestures. All he did, the man would say nothing. He simply smiled, the most loving smile. His eyes arched up and together, he had a clear concern for sun traveler. The man closed his eyes and sun traveler was eager to do the same. At this moment, sun traveler's life flashed before his eyes. He wondered over the images being brought to his awareness. After another moment, the old man's eyes opened slowly. He nodded and grinned lovingly. Sun traveler was stunned. He felt such overwhelming love. He wasn't thinking but made a gesture. He gave the Librarian the piece of paper with his contact from his pocket. The Librarian smiled and said finally, "You have a beautiful future. It will not be the last time we meet."

He woke then. Surrounded by his pillows and walking stick. A dream! What a delightful dream! Turning, to go back to sleep, there he saw, under his pillow, a golden, bright, golden apple stem. How did that get there? Sun traveler thought.

Cloud Mushroom:

Ladies! Ladies and gentlemen! Come! Feast your spectacles and hearts upon the giant white mushroom of cloud. 

*There it stands. In the center of a giant circus stadium, towering up, up, up and into the sky like a piercing knife.* 

Madames et monsieurs, this specimen is neither mushroom nor cloud. In point of fact, it is made from the love around the world. You see, it wanes and ebbs like the ocean, relating to the moon. In times of peace, it amasses into the clouds. But, in times of war, it sinks into the ocean! 

*A little boy in the audience shouted out, 'can ya eat it?!'* 

No, no no, madames et monsieurs, vous ne le pouvez pas manger. At this very instant, we can witness the mushroom as it towers up into the sky. But! But! What should happen if a young and beautiful couple were to enter and stand next to the mushroom and express their agape? 

*The same little boy shouted out, asking, 'what if they kissed?!' There was hysterical laughter in the crowd.* 

I would like to choose two lucky couples from our audience tonight to join us on stage. You! And you two! 

*The two handsome couples made their way down to the stage. They were positioned in front of the mushroom.* 

The crowd begins to chant: kiss! Kiss! Kiss! 

*Both couples take each other's hands, gently closing their eyes and lay their lower lips onto their mates'.* 

Madames et monsieur's! Regardez! 

*The mushroom sinks like a stone, creating a space in the ground but then recoils, skyrocketing into the sky!* 

Ladies and gentlemen, some say, it is Jehovah's very heart on the earth. Others say that He gave it to us to show us that love is so valuable. 

*The same little boy from the audience shouts, 'it sure shows the value of a heartfelt and passionate kiss!' He begins to applaud. And all the rest join in.

The Pelican and the Magic Grain of Barley:

This story is especially close to my heart. My oh my, I sure do hope it's as close to yours. It's a very interesting story. You see, it all began when a pelican encountered a magic grain of barley. This pelican prior to encountering a magic grain of barley, was just an ordinary pelican. He went to work, 9-5, doing pelican things. He sure was an ordinary pelican. Until he encountered a magic grain of barley. Pelican was usually pretty careful about the sorts of things he put into his beak. This day, he didn't think twice. He didn't think twice at the sight of this mysterious, glowing and shiny grain within the rest of the barley grain. The moment he chomped down upon the barley, the rest of it swished around - swished about - inside his beak and then snaked it's way down his throat hole. This grain - this magic grain - though was tough. Tougher than a nail! And so, determined to chew it up good, Pelican sat chewing and chomping for some moments until all of the other birds began to stare at him. 'whats'a matta? Can't chew yous food?' snapped a younger pelican. Grandpa pelican whistled, 'be careful, you'll lose a beak tooth!' still, Pelican chomped. And Pelican chewed. But the grain within his beak simply wouldn't break down. Until before long, Pelican began to whistle himself. The other pelicans around him watched in complete awe as Pelicans beak transformed, in a single instant, into a massive cistern. Goodness gracious! His body grew in proportion. Hot diggity! His head became massive compared to the others'. Pelican could barely see over his massive beak with his wee little eyeballs. The other pelicans stood back, frightened. Pelican assured them, 'everything is alright!' Still, seems regardless of his attempts to calm them down and to reassure them, they simply grew more and more afraid. Some glanced suspiciously at their barley lunch. Pelican was no longer welcome in their home. Pelican deliberated, deliberated. He prayed and prayed. He read the Sacred Scrolls of Pelican God, searching, searching a way to reassure his brothers and sisters, all was well. One day, seeing the Pelican home's food supply diminishing, Pelican crafted a plan! See, he happened to know all about a barley supply further off in the jungle. So, one day, he flew over to the supply of barley and did done scoop himself up a tonne of barley in his humongous beak. From there, he waddled his kiester back to their home and opened his beak. From it, the stocks of barley were replenished. All of the pelicans rejoiced and came over to shake Pelicans wing and slap him across the back. See, we all have talents and gifts. At first, they may be awkward and intimidating to others. That's just because we are learning to master them. But if we use our talents and gifts for good, to help other people, we can become a blessing to them.

 

Rattling Popping Kernel:

Once, there was a popcorn kernel who rattled everywhere he went. Regardless of whether he were going to the park, the grocery store or the library, he rattled around, jumping here and there. Some of his friends, like Mr Caramel Chew and Miss Coffee Creamer said he did it because, as a popping kernel, he intrinsically knew his fate and simply was reenacting his future within the cooking pot. But there was no cooking pot. And there was no cooking oil. Truth was, Popcorn Kernel simply loved life. He possessed a joie de vie. Mr Butter Scoop didn't get it. Dr Teaspoon couldn't comprehend. In fact, they said Popcorn Kernel simply tried to mimic the erratic behavior of atomic particles. Hey, these are some smart household and refrigerator items! And so, this particular day, Popping Kernel was making his way to the theme park. He just had so much joie de vie that he needed to burn off. He hadn't been to the theme park in years. He thought it may be time to return. And so, standing in line for the thrilling super duper flagelistic roller coaster, he happened to catch eyes with the most gorgeous stick of butter he had ever seen. And there, surrounded by hundreds of other household and refrigerator items, each and every one of them disappeared. Leaving only Popping Kernel and Stick of Butter, softly gazing into each other's eyes. They had a blast on the roller coaster but now that they had found each other, they had slowed down just a little. They sought something more romantic. So, they went up in a Ferris wheel. There at the very top, the two, Popping Kernel and Stick of Butter kissed passionately. This was the last I heard of the two love birds. Word has it, they were joined together and finally popped! The interesting thing: after they met, Stick of Butter actually started rattling everywhere she went too. What a sight to see! A popping kernel and a stick of butter dancing every which way. The only time they stood still was that very special moment when the two kissed.

Candy Land Insurance:

Once, there was an Oreo Cookie. He lived in Candy Land amongst the other candy assortments. Now, in Candy Land, there happened to be arrayed out at every block, wee, little fondue volcanoes. These volcanoes were special volcanoes. These volcanoes at every eruption spewed only the finest of chocolate sauce and syrup. And wouldn't you know it, when the syrup hardened, it transformed into marvelous, different types of candy, pastry and cake. Now Mr Oreo Cookie had his home only down the street from one of these fondue volcanoes. He had chosen the real estate gladly as it so happened, Candy Land insurance company paid him in chocolate wafers each time that an eruption occurred. Let's just say, Mr Oreo Cookie was a very wealthy cookie. One day, a different kind of eruption occurred. This eruption ended up spewing raspberry jam all through Candy Land. I am sure you can imagine what a ruckus this caused. See, Candy Land had never seen fruit. Even less fruit condiment! What a delightful surprise this caused for the inhabitants of Candy Land. But for the Candy Land insurance, they had to pay out BIG dividends! They ended up going bankrupt. They had no more caramel on the coffers. Well, what happened next? You see, Candy Land insurance was such an important part of Candy Land, what with the constant eruptions and especially these new eruptions that the entire population of Candy Land held a grand fundraiser. The grandest! One to get Candy Land insurance back on its feet. Mr Oreo Cookie headed up the committee in overseeing the fundraiser. It was decided that it would be a black tie, ball dance. Oh, my word! You should see it. Here comes Mrs. Jelly Cake! And Mr Baklava! Look again, here comes DJ Pez Dispenser! He'll sure play some good tunes! Well, how grand an evening it was! Candy Land insurance was reinstated to support of the community. And Mr Oreo Cookie even happened to meet a lady cookie. She was a jelly centered cookie! She was one of the new members of Candy Land. Only introduced with the new type of fondue eruption. And so, Mr Oreo Cookie and Ms Jelly Centered Cookie were married. They had eleven young ones. You may have seen them around in the grocery stores. See they are half and half. Half jelly and half chocolate and cream. What a great treat! Yum! I sure wish I had real estate in Candy Land!

Wee, Hen Duck:

Tonight I'd love to tell you a story about a wee hen duck. Now, this hen duck was different from most ducks. How you ask? Well, the answer may just surprise you. You see, among the animal kingdom, ducks were known for their especial ability to feel. No other animal was quite like the duck. It had become a weakness and their greatest strength. This hen duck was the most especially feeling duck of them all. Other animals often asked her to describe just how it felt to feel in such a profound and prolific way. She'd simply say in response, "It feels like it feels. You know, as it feels."

One day, a mean, mean bulldog spotted Hen Duck while she was grazing through the field. Bulldog approached her menacingly, with a twisted snarl and said, "Hey you! Why don't you come over here? There's a, - oh my, what is it you ducks like to eat these days? Ah, oh yes! There's a nice grape cut in half over here. Why don't you come see?"

Hen Duck liked grapes. Especially grapes that were cut in half. Still Hen Duck knew something was a little unsettling about this bulldog. When Hen Duck refused, Bulldog snapped his teeth at her.

Sometime later, a menacing and red fox crept up upon Hen Duck. Red Fox lapped his tongue and smacked his chops at the very sight of her. Red Fox said, "it's a very beautiful day, isn't it?"

And as Hen Duck simply ignored him and tossed her beak upon the grass, Red Fox snuck around behind her. But Hen Duck got a strange feeling. It was in fact, a beautiful day. A very beautiful day! But - my oh my! Where did that old Red Fox go?

Well, he just happened to be right behind her, teeth snarling and ready to take a chomp out of Hen Duck's kiester! But Hen Duck sensed something off and at the very moment teeth were chomping down, Hen Duck flapped her wings and flew away, off and into the pond. Red Fox glared at her from the ground while she simply passed her beak through the surface of the water. She was not bothered in the slightest.

Later, an owl flew down from her perch, stood in front of Hen Duck and said, "Who. . . Who! I have a present for you!" And Owl dropped from her claws a wee fish. It sure looked tasty. And it was alive! Hen Duck sure liked wee fish! Still, she sensed something a little off about Owl.

Hen Duck asked her, "why do you bring me this fish?" And noticing on Owl's brow, a bead of sweat forming, Hen Duck asked, "Why are you sweating, too?"

Owl snapped then, "Eat the wee fish!"

At that moment, Hen Duck caught sight of Red Fox and Mad Bulldog watching from afar. Hen Duck beat her wings with all her might and landed again in the center of the pond. From there, she watched as Red Fox and Mad, Mean Bulldog approached the fish. She could see Red Fox taking a bite of the wee fish. Once he did, he went yelping away into the woods.

Hen Duck's feelings had saved her. And so we learn a lesson from Hen Duck's story. And that is it is important to trust your gut. I knew a hen duck once. Her feelings were so incredibly beautiful. So incredibly special. They made her like Jehovah. I can truly say that her feelings have saved me more than just once. I sure do love that hen duck.