First published 27 Jan 2021
“Hi, I’m here to see the Doctor”.
“Covid”?
“No”.
Looking back to when I was a child, growing up surrounded by my dad’s collection of mugs branded with the figure of Baphomet wasn’t a coincidence, was it? The Goat of Mendes, my very own surname. Dad swears he had no involvement with the freemasonry, but today I know I had, in at least couple of lives ago.
In 2012 I had my first surgery. It wasn’t cancer or anything dramatic, but it was a matter of health nonetheless. I didn’t know who I was back then and sometimes I wonder if I was meant to have survived it. Life was simpler for this fat guy who just wanted his husband to get back from India already.
In 2019 I woke up. I died, went to see God and came back with a promise: that it was time for everyone to wake up as well. “I’m Lucifer”, “I’m Horus”, “I’m Shiva”… And every time I tried to say “I’m Michael”, my mouth would overwrite it with “I’m Gabriel”, which it’s pretty funny, actually. To reach the father, you have to go through the son first. A couple months later everyone’s Corona Chakra was going crazy and the “wear your mask” campaign started.
Last week an ex called on my birthday, said he dreamed we were walking over a fragile roof and wanted to know if I was ok. “I dreamed of you too, you were taking me to a place to be blessed and cleansed, but a horrible monster was grabbing me and trying to get me off the line”, I responded. “Ouch. You should pray more, Betto”. “Yeah, thanks”. Try not to burn any bridges when you break up with someone, y’all.
Yesterday during meditation I saw as the ovoid caves of the fourth dimension were being transmuted into beautiful flower fields. According to the Spiritism philosophy, when a person kill themselves or die in very poor conditions, their soul can get stuck in a repetitive thought pattern and end up turning into deformed ovoids (eggs) devoted of free will and self consciousness.
Later on that day I watched a live chat with a spiritual teacher on YouTube. He does these all the time, but yesterday was different, because I never catch them as they happen. And then he started talking about the places on the Earth that still to this day suffer from atomic bombs consequences. A flashback started in my head from when I watched a Anunnaki documentary that showed signs of atomic bombs having being fired somewhere in the Middle East before known history. A second flashback started from me being responsible for at least one of those in an ancient life.
It was time to heal that, wasn’t it?!
You see, metaphysic work is no joke. I still have a real life bump on my shoulder from a fated encounter last year that severed my arm in the astral plane, but when I set my intention to heal the scorched Earth from atomic bombs, I didn’t expect that I’d end up in the hospital.
As I contorted with pain in bed last night, my guides suggested that I should go to a hospital. A terrible abdominal pain that makes me want to crawl into a ball still flares at around my Solar Plexus as I write this. Medicine helps, but doesn’t stop it. Preliminar exams didn’t find anything, so I scheduled some more for a in dept view tomorrow. The doctor from the hospital suggested that I should seek an endocrinologist for more specialized treatments, so an appointment was scheduled next Thursday, the day of the full moon in Leo, with the guy who did my surgery back in 2012.
Sometimes we have to get down to business and do the things we feel it is your duty to do (or die trying). And sometimes we suffer for things we did God knows when, but eventually caught up to us.
Everything has meaning, you guys, nothing happens without someone having wished for it first, what you can do is try to be better. Don’t ask for things to be easier, ask for you to be made better, wish it. Nothing is hard when you do it with an open heart; heavy maybe, but never hard.
Love remains.
https://old.reddit.com/r/ShrugLifeSyndicate/comments/l5rm9k/finishing_what_started_in_2012/
