A Fragmented Whole

My oh my, last night was fun. A reminder of the possibilities. I mean, this guy already told me how he won 3200 euros with a gambling app, only this time he showed me. He was up to 320 euros in no time. Lying on his bed, clicking away on these digital slot-machines. I think they use gambling sites like pokerstars to launder money and to hide something much bigger. But that’s a different subject for another time.

We went out, made silly jokes, laughed, smoked some joints, did some coke and surfed the waves of the night. At one point I noticed that I was slipping away. Maybe I tuned my body-mind to his energetical configuration a little too much. This is how it seems to work: To enjoy nights like this I need to surrender, while keeping my inner light shining just enough to protect my values. This way I don’t need to recover for two days, sometimes more. Today I woke up after the most amazing dreams I had in a long time.

Crystal clear, hot and lucid!
What else do I want?

You see my son, here time turns into space.
– Philip K. Dick

Dear dream journal
When I became lucid, which I think happened quit spontaneously, I wondered what to do. First I thought to jump up and fly. After a few seconds of careful consideration, I decided to find a hot girl to have sex with. So that’s what I did. The lighting was like in the movie public enemies, which had a lot of night scenes in the 30’s. I saw this movie the night before. It was hard to see what people looked like in the streets at night, as I experienced first hand in my dream. This gave me so much focus on the derails without losing the intensity or lucidity. Almost like when you have a lantern pointed in the direction of where you look, the whole time. The atmosphere was a bit dark, even grim. Just enough for me to enjoy the journey. After looking at a few faces and bodies of the girls in the streets, I soon expected and imagined a really hot and super young brunette into existence. As lucid dreamers know, expectation plays a big role in shaping elements of the dream. I walked towards her, grabbed her, and pushed her against a big brick wall on the left side of the street. She enjoyed it very much. That’s what I projected onto her, because I felt it. We kissed. It felt as real as in waking life. Just a bit different. A bit weird, even for me. I groped her right breast. Really squeezed it. She wore a white shirt made of a stretchy, shiny material. Then, I spread her legs, pressed her fully against the wall with my hips, and made upwards movements like I was penetrating her. With my right hand I held her ass very tightly.

She kissed me aggressively to let me know she wanted more…

This steamy grinding went on for a short time. Then I woke up when it got a bit too intense. It felt great. Like a dirty little purge. Why not? I would probably do it almost every night when I get a brown belt in lucid dreaming. That’s usually the color just before the black belt. I’m getting there… When I catch the right waves at the right time, I get lucid a few time a week. Sometimes a few times in a row. Then there are weeks in which I have no lucid dreams, or forget them. While all of this is happening, the realism and intensity of my dream-life fluctuates. A bit like the seasons, only much harder to catch up with and to predict.

That was a bit weird, to write about a sexual dream in such a literal and visceral way.

All of this makes it rather hard to progress. On the other hand, I explore a lot and I go on beautiful adventures. Exuberance is beauty. Being exuberant means to be full alive and to emanate raw energy. William Blake, the great poet, mystic and painter said something along these lines in the book the marriage of heaven and hell. It describes the alchemical magical process of unifying opposites. The most powerful magic is done by bringing extremes together and expressing them as one.

Now I remember how fun freedom can be. I want more of it, try different kinds and explore the possibilities.

About a week ago I walked towards the center of the village. Normally I go for a walk every day, but this time something was different. Well, a lot of things. Suddenly the whole village was filled with faces I never saw before. I saw a dozen mothers strolling around with their children in fancy looking baby buggies. Half of them were African and Moroccan. Some of which I found very beautiful. But, how weird is that? The whole town changed in the blink of an eye. Did the matrix get updated when I was asleep? This was a serious question I asked myself out loud when seeing all of this.

The pressure of a completely different life lying ahead of me was just a bad story I told myself. Now I remember the power of perception, which is the magical act of storytelling fueled by the imagination working on full capacity. I am rediscovering my wings of perception. Everything is a dream, so is freedom. The only way to experience it as being real is by believing it. To believe the stories I tell myself over and over again. Now I have a direction. I feel clear, mindful and driven to take life for a ride. Now unchained from external rules of the system, the propaganda and all forms of noise. It’s my turn to tame my own imagination. It’s my time to mold my perception and to shape my personality and my life at will.

Next week I have to leave this place. Technically I’ll be homeless, or as I prefer to call it, ‘homefree’. Maybe I move to Greece, Spain or another place where I can start building an unstoppable magical enterprise.

A society is as good, true and beautiful as the art and products for sale on its consumer market. Someone much smarter than myself ones said; we are the genitals of our technology. We exist only to improve next years model. In many ways this is truer than most people dare to see. I would go even further to say that art, including design products and the gadgets we use are as good as the necessary catalysts for creativity, intelligence and inner vision. Opening many doors in peoples minds.

Psychedelics are major catalysts for creativity and innovation. Shamanism is still alive today. The modern style and methods lack proper inspiration, which is just another word for fuel. Garbage in, garbage out. That’s how it works with the body and the mind. We need better state changing, mind mixing, identity obliterating, brain tuning and visionary tools. It also needs to be available in every country. An organized underground market with international protection from the badass brigade. The secret is that we need these external tools. Our ancestors depended on them. We are fools to assume that we don’t need drugs, simply because that’s the way the media, tyrannic authorities and so many ignorant people present it. Drugs is an extremely broad subject. The ones that are not bad for you are sometimes illegal. The ones that can be really good and helpful for some people, can be as illegal as stealing Ferrari’s. Some people risk many years of prison time to explore themselves or to see what’s out there on the other side. It’s a call from the inner artist; a cry for adventure. It’s for the people who explore edges. Those who live on the edge of reality and their own understanding.

It’s clearly not for everyone.

For some it’s second nature. Others force it upon themselves. You might hover between the two, or maybe you are a different creature entirely. There are no fixed rules when you start bypassing, dissolving or even ascending them.

Our society relies on sex, drugs and rock and roll. The evolution of the whole human enterprise is a manifestation and a reflection of the evolution of our tools. Of course there are many other factors

I say we need better sex, drugs and rock and roll. Meaning, an evolution of creative expression, catalysts for the mind and esthetics.

Who is this guy?

5 minutes ago people called him white Bob Marley. Now he looks almost normal, his hair short, listening to ‘Techno-punk metallic gringe funk music while kicking and drifting alone in his room. It’s weird how he held on to this one persona for so long. Finally he remembers the many possibilities. Infinite in the long run, yet momentarily trapped by the tricks of reality generating entities.

One day he is the happiest person in the world. The next day he subconsciously attempts to kill himself. From one extreme to the other. The middle feels dangerous. It kills creativity. Routines are deadly. I like to see myself and the world as one big improvisation. An infinite remix and a collection of ideas and stories.

What other way is there to experience ultimate freedom? We can think, feel, act and create our way towards any chosen dream. If I could describe the music I’m listening to right now, it would tap right into your sensory memory and imagination. It’s one of these days. We all know them. Most people will experience such days. Unique, yet universal struggles or powerful experiences that change you and your worldview. The more of these transitions you will undergo, the darker the world seems to be. But, paradoxically it’s through this darkness that you will truly get to know the light.

You are not your personality or your circumstances. Most parents don’t know much. They are their circumstances; products of the system. Completely under control by the great machine. If most parents would be conscious, their children would most likely be successful. This is clearly not the case. People are becoming dumber every month. That doesn’t have to be a problem, if only we would be good communicators. I see a lot of people understand a lot of basic things about life, but they lack the skills to communicate it. When I meet new people, I tend to listen very carefully, to everything they express. Sometimes their words reveal less than 10 percent of what they’re actually saying, but because we are on a similar wavelength, our understanding resonates. We both feel that we understand the same thing. We assume we’re talking about one shared experience. This is true intimacy. Sometimes both parties really know what they’re talking about, and it’s very close to the truth. Other times people can’t be further off…


The truth is that what remains when we stop believing the stories that make up our collective dream. The truth is infinite, scary and unknowable. It makes no sense to strive for truth in a world that can be anything withing the confines of the collective imagination. This will be clear when you take a good look at history. As long as we are in this matrix, we might as well enjoy every moment.

I feel like a different person. I am a different person than I was a few days ago. When I saw myself in a recent photo I didn’t recognize the person in it. Rationally I knew was me, but it’s just the shell. My body, appearance and style, whatever that means. On the inside, everything changed.

Leslie died.
Maybe, finally.
Free of my personality.
I am not even my own anymore.
Yet I feel confident and clear.
Happy and free.

Everything is an illusion.


Everything I believe is real.

Many eons ago, the real world split into two worlds. One, the dark material world, and the other the spiritual light world. This material world is the only world most people know. We ripped our world apart and squeezed out its secrets in a desperate attempt to be liberated. Liberated my the rules and mortality of this material (physical) world. It seems like we never wanted to be here in the first place.

This idea comes in many forms. Mostly in stories and mythological symbols. There is the science fiction theory that earth is an alien prison planet. Alien is defined as ‘other’ or ‘unknown’. Something truly alien would by its very nature be unknowable. Could something unknowable or invisible be running the show? It’s very probable that hyper-dimensional entities have more control over our world than most of us could ever dare to imagine.

Another more biological theory states that we are some kind of decease produced by nature to obliterate all consciousness in the universe. Whatever consciousness is, it’s a threat to the earth. This is her way to protect her children and herself. So, it’s open to the idea that consciousness is maybe a spiritual aspect of life. It has no business here in the material world, yet many among us are infected.

The creator of this world is insane. The real god keeps our time and sends us memories of the many forgotten worlds. If we overcome this amnesia, we enter another world. On the surface it looks the same, but you clearly feel there’s something off…

BOOM, you just made a time-jump. A dimensional leap, so to speak. If you actively explore edges this sudden transition occurs more often. When it does, pay very close attention. Especially to yourself. Listen to you thoughts. Monitor your feelings. Ask yourself, are these my thoughts and my feelings? Or did they slip in when I let my guard down? Both are possible. You are going to experience them, and maybe even remember that you were split off a long time ago. Unless you already do of course.

Lets see what the media has to say about it. Well, nothing really. The real media died somewhere in the 50s, maybe even earlier. What we see on TV is cleverly designed to keep us in a time-loop. Energetical attacks are woven into the messages of mass corporate media. Very few human beings have the eye to see this. No human alone has the power to steer it in a positive direction.

Tick, tock, said the clock. You’re running our of time…I wish I could run out of time, literally. To be free of time, truly beyond. The clock looked at me as if I said something really weird. What is time? How does one liberate oneself from it? Does it even exist out there, or is it something we made up and tell ourselves to avoid dealing with deeper questions about life, death and the universe.

What if you can know what happens after you die? Would you want to know? What if there are many, many possible scenario’s, and you might never know your own afterlife beforehand. Would you still choose to dive in? There’s no looking back, no safety net. The past died a long time ago. Let it go and you will be a different person. Or, should I say, a person without a fixed personality. Like a character in a story. Maybe that’s how it really is, who knows…

Last night I dreamed of my ex again. This is the second night in a row I believe. In the first I vaguely remember chasing her, for a good reason I don’t remember. In the most recent one we were just hanging out. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt free to say and do anything that bubbled up inside. ”Let’s have sex, that will be fun”, I said. I touched her, to see how far I could go… Nothing she didn’t want. I mean, I know her. Well, I know the person she used to be. She is dead now. Anyhow, she didn’t want to have sex, so I left. It was a waste of time to be honest. If I were lucid I would have raped her; probably. Technically everything you do in your dreams you do to yourself. So, I would rape a part of myself. Not to justify rape or anything like that. It’s just a rational conclusion of my observation and experience.

In my dreams I often do what I want to do when I’m awake. The problem is that I don’t want the consequences. Therefor I have a few options. Just do it and accept the worst possible consequences is one possibility. Another, very tempting possibility is to gain enough power to get away with my actions. I mean, the majority decide the rules. They don’t even know it. And, most people live by a bad story. So much creativity wasted on lying, creating drama and tyrannizing others. Who are the real criminals here? It’s hard to say. The best option I have is the hardest one of all. It might take many lifetimes to accomplish, which is way too long for me. That option is to create my own world. A world where I am truly free and almighty.

As appealing as it sounds, I might not get any results in 10, 20 or even 30 years. That’s why I let go of this dream. I enjoy the taste I get in lucid dreams. Sometimes spontaneous mystical experiences arise. I don’t know how to control when, where and how this happens. Basically, I will most likely never experience the only thing I always wanted. Not as long I’m human at least. Ultimate freedom comes with the highest price. Most people can’t afford it. I’m not sure anymore if I can. I can still have fun. Be happy and occasionally taste the impossible.

According to universal laws, no matter how much they disgust me, I need a plan. If not, I will fall into someone else’s plan. This I will not allow. What is my plan? First of all, I will get my hands on enough money to be a great force in my own world. Money makes the world go round. It can take me around the world too. When I have between 2000 and 4000 thousand euros I will invest in the magic I will sell, to make much more money. Every cent I don’t use to invest, I will spend on new experiences and a better life for me and those I love. Finally I will eat healthy, get my friends together and fly as high as the mother of all eagles.

I will unite as many open minded freedom warriors as I can. People with heart, courage and clarity. We will decide the rules. Everyone will be taken care of.

How do I justify my unhealthy diet and lifestyle? Simple, I don’t have the means to eat healthy or to live a good life. Plus, I rather eat cheap shitty food than work my ass of as a farmer. In other words, I don’t need to justify myself. At times I feel I have to know why I’m doing what I’m doing. That’s what justification really is. It can be good to know, but sometimes you just don’t. Being a good person in a bad world is a full-time job that makes no sense whatsoever. Apart from the magical beliefs I use to cope with it, rationally it makes no sense. I know what I need to get what I need. How I’m going to get it I’ll have to see. Maybe I find a job. Maybe I create a job. As a street musician who sells magic under the counter. Or as magician wishing it into my reality.

How much would I make if I collect empty bottles? Some people would love to give them to me, that’s for sure. It saves them time and unnecessary effort. I can even give them a percentage if they so desire. I know some people who collected bottles I Germany, especially after parties. They made up to a few hundred bucks on one night. Depending on how fast you work, and especially the knowledge of the right places and times.

The other day we sat outside in the sun. One girl, a guy and me. At one point I told her that when I dream at night I do the things I want to do in the day. ”I wish I had that”, she responded. Upon reflecting I thought that she probably forgets most of her dreams, like most people. Maybe she does dream about everything she wants. She just forgets. If you forget your dreams, you lost touch with reality. People who forget their dreams often have no clue how creative they can be. They don’t realize how much of their life is a result of bad channeling and wasting creative energy.

Dear dream journal,
Last night I had a steamy hot dream experience, once again. I’ll spare you the details this time. They were filming for a movie, and I was an actor acting for a sex scene.

Half a day and one night of sleep and dreams to go before I leave everything behind. That includes a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, my daily shower, electricity, internet and my income. I don’t know where to go or how to get what I want. Maybe it would be better if I didn’t know what I want, so I could just choose anything without caring much about it. Ultimate freedom is where I’m headed. My starting point, the streets of the Netherlands. At night it’s still cold, but during the day the weather is really great.

At the moment I am sitting in my dads living room. He helps me to prepare for my journey. There are some things can’t talk about publicly. In a sane world I would tell you all about my future plans, but unfortunately we live in an insane world. Tonight we go out for dinner. My father and his wife already planned this before they knew I was going to be here. My little brother keeps asking to play video games with him. He is happy to see me. That makes me happy too. I have one skill, which is also a way to share. I am a good listener. Often times I forget that listening is sharing and sometimes even learning. What I can say is that I go to another country. I have a place to stay. A foundation for my imaginary enterprise. Maybe I get a job. If not, there are many possibilities left. I have just enough money to rent an apartment with a garden for a few months, and to invest in my dreams…

Waking life dreams or Out of body dreams?
What’s the difference? Do you have a preference? I don’t really have a preference, but I like to switch it up. I love change. A dynamic life lived on the edge of my reality. Two nights ago I started reading the white goddess by Robert Graves. It’s about the history of poetry. Apparently the divine quality of true poets depends on their relationship with the white goddess. The white goddess symbolizes the mother of all beings, unconditionally loving, yet cruel at times. I think this was the original god our ancestors instinctively worshiped. Nothing like modern worship, or at least not how I experienced it around me. How is this related to the dream life and waking life? Well, poetry had a very powerful effect on the world. It shaped and changed the minds of many. The core from which these clearly visible effects manifest is the second world. This second world is the world most people forgot due to our collective amnesia. It’s the non local, non physical place of all dreams. The dimension of the imagination. The world of our ancestors, and the land of the dead. All of these descriptions don’t do justice to the underlying meaning of it.

…It is in our dreams that part of ourselves remembers, or tunes in to the second world. There will come a time when we collectively rediscovers our long lost paradise within…

What I’m saying is that these two worlds and experiences are one whole. They are not separate. It’s hard impossible to say what it is. All I can do is say what it’s not and to use symbols, metaphors and stories to hint to this eternal thing. We only experience one side of the world, which is very limited compared to the other side. The second world seems like an infinite universe waiting to be explored. Too much freedom obliterates the ego, your true personality and even your body. Therefor we need to drastically change our self image in order to attain ultimate freedom in both worlds.

Tomorrow I fly away, literally, in a plane, over sea. Is that a weird sentence? I feel some flow after reading it a few times. I wish to live my dreams in my waking life. Even if that means I have to sacrifice my dream adventures, friends and lovers. It feels surreal to write about it in this way, because a few hours after arriving in my body it feels as if it happened many years ago. On the other hand this kind of amnesia also occurs after waking life experiences. You can linger and hold on to the past, but that’s not the same as remembering. This is more like believing the story you tell yourself repeatedly. Truly remembering anything is rare. It tends to stay with you for the rest of your life, even though might not be aware of it all the time, or apply this wisdom. So, truly remembering is the embodiment of wisdom.

…It’s there when it’s needed, laying dormant, ready to assist…

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