26-1-2022: Day 230
The green phantom quartz crystal was prohibitively expensive – priced the same as half a week’s worth of supermarket groceries. And my mob have hungry mouths to feed. So, I told the kindly rock shop geezer I would be back at some point in the future, feeling richer and more enlightened. He placed the valuable crystal back on its glass shelf mantlepiece and went back to reading his gripping novel. Opening the door, I charged through the wind chimes and trod rubber soul for home.
I had spotted the green phantom crystal doing the rounds of the socials. It came from an inviting tweet from an Irish white witch, who had uploaded a photo of herself holding the giant rock of quartz the size of a basketball. My exploding thought was I had to get one of those in my life. So, I inquired about the properties, which, miraculously, matched my manifestation wish list. However, in these fallow times of low dough, I would take the executive decision to plant the green phantom in the recesses of my mind.
28-1-2022: Day 232
The midnight hour arrived and ticked by, long after the candles were blown out and the Lee Harris broadcast I was glued to had ended. I could feel myself slowly suffocating in the darkness invisible. Something was awry, something ancient, primal even, stirring in the coal black of night. I could feel myself being dragged by the heels into the shadowlands of the underworld. So, I waited for the assault on my soul from the Blackheart Man, the Voice from my inner darkness, and my arch nemesis from the fires of the Soul Asylums.
The knife glinted in my mind; a chink of light reflected in the blackness. It was being held to my throat, as he tried to steal away my soul with fear, paranoia, and supernatural terror. I was contemplating a heroic dose of Big Pharma pills, whilst meditating on love, strength, and healing vibes. I was finally standing in my own power. And, after a long sleepless night of death rolling, I heard the street birds sing, watched the light creep in, and soaked up the dawn of a new day.
31-1-2022: Day 235
The pharmacy delivery man was leaving the drug shop with a gigantic overflowing crate of cure all-medicines as I waited in line for my Script.
And as I waited patiently in the queue the delivery man dropped a single paper bag of these state sponsored medicines on the cracked-up concrete path. With a passing thought at who, where and how all these pills were going to wind up being popped, swallowed, and ingested – I picked up the bag, handed it back, and had an inner wink at all the pills, frills, and bellyaches on the road ahead.
Handed over the counter, the drugs were neatly packed and wrapped in a paper bag, sealed with plastic tape. To be unwrapped in the shadows, like an unwanted, unloved, and undesirable birthday gift.
And in this moment, I had a flashback to the drug serving hatch from the Maudsley Psychiatric Hospital, where fifteen years ago I was forced under duress and a section order, to first stomach these powerful prescription pills.
And with a sigh and heavy heart, I walked out into the strobing sunbeams of the day ahead.