That Demented

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I do not normally have visionary experiences with any psychedelics. Increased doses are less likely to cause me to see. I have however had the experience of seeing Jesus, a few hours after smoking very strong marijuana, and it certainly felt, and sounded, as well as looked, more real than any other sight I ever saw. The marijuana became entirely irrelevant to the experience. I guess this is the same with every experience of any psychedelic through which our lives profoundly change. The experience in and of itself is overt in sustaining a greater sense of beneficial outcome, than any solid matter substance could. And although we don’t always attribute to drug addicts, that their desire is to be closer to God, and their problem will be that they had placed drugs instead of prayers between themselves and God, we ought think of their suffering in this exact way. They are suffering God’s will, and their suffering will be heard in Heaven.

My website did not begin as a website for the purpose of espousing the notion that it might be good to take psychedelics, or cannabis. In fact I prefer we do not. I prefer I will myself never need to again. Yet if it happens that the Universe conspires to have me enter into an understanding which I am not prepared for by prayers, I guess drugs might yet be what overcomes me in the end, albeit my preference to avoid drugs will stand.

My website does in fact contain and sustain communication of, many facts apart from a few sparse facts about drugs. Yet it is perhaps relevant that users of drugs, tend to find more meaning in my words. Perhaps because an inner meaning is not fully able to become explicit. And perhaps because having become made too explicit already, you might feel a need to take drugs so as to understand what I am meaning. Either way my only advice is to avoid pills, avoid man made synthetic substances, and avoid the opium derived; if the substance in nature finds you, be my guest to make as much use of as you feel like. Of course if you need be considerate of legislative boundaries, then consider that as an element of your enviromental setting, and be my guest that your mindset is able freely consider what environment is safest.

Apart from my witnessing of Jesus, I occasionally see very brief images during periods of time under the influence of a psychedelic, and always of wildlife. Never cartoons, however recently I posted in the DMT Nexus website, some writing which related various cartoon images, with the deeper insights without visions, which I have received. Hilariously, all the hard core psychonauts imagined that thereby I didn’t go deep. Or perhaps it was naive onlookers who so imagined. [that link into the DMT Nexus website is embedded in the last post I made in the conversation thread in this link into the Shamanis Australis Botanicus forum website, and clicking on these words will find it, but perhaps only if you register as a member of that forum]

I read somewhere, or heard, that in the Santo Diame and UDV traditions, it is regarded as quite normal not to have visionary experiences. I also have the indigenous Australian tradition I belong within to rely upon. A tradition in which it is taught almost as though a choice, but no doubt actually definitely no choice at all but by circumstances of birth which can be inhibited and altered by choice, which way we experience psychedelics. Either, we lie down and take it as it comes. Or we get up and move around and retain control of our voluntary muscles, but we only retain this control via a self perception of having no need to become in control of our mind, but will prefer retaining control of our voluntary muscles. It is a sign of being of prayerful mind to be able to get up and move around.

Interestingly however, I know men who are normally more likely to get up and move around, but through narcotic addiction, came to prefer to be looking without moving. Also, I know a man with Hallucinagen Persistent Perception Disorder (HPPD), and he can use a lot of psychedelics without seeing anything other than the halo around any object he identified with. I expect it is becoming proven, that his HPPD was caused by him having presumed to be capable of avoiding the full integration of a specific psychedelic experience he had in his youth, and is still running away from age 49. And sadly, that experience is one by which he was enabling himself to engage with the illicit drug trade, by disabling others and causing that they had to face the police. I posted the story at another thread just yesterday.

I think the reality is, for some people it is better for themselves and everybody else, if they are looking and witnessing visually, but if they fail to integrate the experience, their ability to see can fade. While for others of us, it works out better for everybody if we are gracious enough to simply let others see as we might ourselves see if we actively asserted that desire, but in gratitude for the psychedelic experience, we share out insight with many. The ability to do so, has a few hallmarks which can be disconcerting for others. For example, how readily the local environmental sounds become the inevitable defining factor of mood within the psychedelic experience, and in that sounds dominate, we seem to becoming automated into translating sound experiences into the witness of vision at times, whereas the visuals tend to be sourced from much further away. That is true such that whenever I use a psychedelic, which is seldom, I find the vision in my regular dreaming at night, becomes interwoven with my intention in the instance of use of a psychedelic, and also interwoven with the responses and reactions of every surrounding influence. And the major hallmark, is in that there can be no lie between the posture and movement of the body, and the voice. A clean straight honesty between mind and act, between body and mind, between voice and posture, keeps us stable without needing to be often seeing the visions which can be so prized by others.

There is no shame in not looking. Whether by ancestry and birth it is a special ability, or whether by accord with wishing a certain outcome will not transpire. Because even in the case of having avoided full integration, it does work out that whomsoever else becomes incumbent with the story of the same vision and outcomes, is who will have need of, will be able to integrate it all more safely, and will be forgiving enough of who refuses to integrate.

Neither is there shame in simply not looking. I find I integrate more readily by not looking inwards, since I tend to be able to be more acutely aware of my immediate environmental surroundings. Thereby, sustaining better recall of the environment, I am able to dreams through the visions everybody around me is having, and usually begin to see the visions in dreams before arriving in contexts of ceremonial use of psychedelics, after which my dreams continue to be significantly influenced by what I have witnessed of those immediate environmental surroundings.

Of my website here, is one specific environmental surrounding context, which tends to weave its way into my every effort to communicate. Inescapably I am bound by a far out weird predicament, yet one which perhaps we all ought have been capable of predicting. As tribute to that predicament, in this page I am putting a poem I wrote of that exact predicament, and then also a letter composed unto the progenitor of my predicament of my life lived as me, a carnal body as well as Spirit being, body of emotion, and Causal function from above and beyond my ability communicate as well as above and beyond my predicament of carnal form.

So now, the moral to my words here, is neither to get bent, nor to dement, but to forewarn.  It might well be, that I myself harbour a belief, in an impending apocalyptic nightmare of sorts.  At yet, after all, is not Armageddon merely the name of a village where men had a ritual dance way of enacting battles potentially without needing to wage war.  And are we not many who are already familiar with such dances.  In particular here in Australia in that many cricket grounds are built upon the sacred circles defining of.  Those who brought the game of cricket here got correctly directed by indigenous men, as to whereabouts to enact that ritual.  And I know that the Gabba is one such place, relating with the other nearby cricket ground where indigenous men still today hold sway, and perhaps ought still be more openly involved in the cricket now.  I don’t expect anybody else might want to believe me, but I know a few who find themselves in need of knowing what happened in my life story.  Thus below, is a letter.  It is a fairdinkum letter I wrote, to a specific person, who ignored much of my attempting communicate to him about the trouble he is making in my life.  If it happens you find your mind feels a bit demented by reading it, I might only advise that you choose your own ending in this story.  But if you choose through me, choose wisely, knowing what I believe.








12th January 2018


Yesterday, I wrote down my thoughts, addressing these to a man, by the name of W**** “C*c*” W******. Hi “C*c*” I hope you are now reading this too. Yesterday I wrote out for you, my thoughts, because I felt irritated by the fact you are so obviously wanting me to spend money I don’t have. Yesterday you did try to force me, (as if that were possible), through using the vices of R*r* O’C*****, as if I were going to just go buy a coffee, when I don’t often drink coffee, or want any coffee, and had no money to buy any. But nevertheless, it felt as though I had no other option. Then I remembered why it is I often felt as if there were no option other than to behave in a manner I find unpleasant. That why being how you imagined you might know what was going on with me. But when in fact, you always have the innate capacity, by cause of how you caused yourself, to know about me and of me, and the only reason you don’t know exactly, is because you refused to keep my company until after I will no longer now let it happen again that we meet. I have good reason to refuse you now, since it is clear that your intentions were always to corrupt me, as if you could have prevented me in my belief in Jesus.

However, the point of my adding this note here now, into all already available of my words written for the context of my website, is to repeat what I wrote yesterday. I need repeat much of that content, since the document I wrote it into yesterday, did not get saved into my USB stick, but only into a public computer which it will in due course become deleted from. I might try to find it today, but there is no guarantee of it being still there. If it is, I will however, edit it before pasting it to the bottom of this letter I am writing as an open public letter to you. Open and public since enough indigenous folks who read my website will already be getting it that you are the grower who I refused to consider in my disseminating of the contact information I have. If you ask me politely I may yet renege, but am unlikely to, since I have it on good authority that you already had access to more money than you could handle very well.

Now before I repeat myself from what I wrote yesterday, I ought also identify the fact, that after I discovered I had not saved that document into my USB stick, an event occurred, by which it seemed as if I ought well believe, that you had already known the content of that document nevertheless, and perhaps for as long as eight years already. But maybe only seven, or even six. Six is a number that is rebounding with me a lot this week, but one year ago, it was seven years, so that can make eight, and I prefer it make eight than six. But even if it was six years ago, well that would take it back to when I happened to be in Darwin, and then Alice, and left by bus to travel back to Brisbane the day Brisbane flooded. The bus company sent us to Brisbane via Adelaide, Canberra, Sydney, and Armidale, which suited both myself and the man I then travelled with, as we both had experiences relevant one to each other, in those exact locations. However, passing through Armidale, my home town, ironically it came to mind there, in a dream asleep on the bus while it passed through, that you had caused the whole flood by attempting prevent me from travelling West from Brisbane. Yet while I had already been further West than you imagined, and wanting to travel East. And the event which occurred yesterday, was only in that my internal witness catalogued you asserting you wanted to dream momentarily unresponsibly backwards through a whole load of my experiences, only so as to know what I had happened to be doing yesterday, when video editing footage of an anniversary event relevant to this paragraph in that I am not in control of how I got born. In fact, if I had any control I would have given the causal control over me to the man I travelled with six years ago, despite him being a destitute junkie, rather than to yourself, since even junkies have greater self control and higher morals.

Now as for the content of the letter I wrote yesterday, if I edit out any fact, it will be that I improve the content’s capacity to be displayed in a more public context, but refusing to repeat the part about echo location being a phenomenon a human being can gain the skills of in the Dreamtime. That was the part about how all of your assertions of “who you” as if simultaneously questioning “who?” and asserting “whoever you knew I want to know instead of you from now on”, seemed to be aligned with having stolen of me from my own individual echo location ability in our collective Dreamtime. Again you want that I so state, perhaps so as others might steal from you as you had from me, and perhaps so as to isolate me as if it was me who did that to myself by writing these words out here now, but when I already know how that happened was already done by your cousin. Her infamy acquiesces to my insisting with you, that if you wanted another woman to be with you, who you felt more capable of avoiding hitting, it better be a woman who did not want all the attention as if by fame alone to achieve anything. But I have copped her torrential blame raining down upon me nevertheless, no thanks to your imposing upon her that she blamed me for her everything. And so we come to the other content of my letter I wrote yesterday.

No I did not write out the words of how you fucked your cousin up, and neither will you be able by any other means to cause me to become who did that. Instead I am writing here only, that there is law of God, of Logos, which corresponds exactly and precisely with indigenous lore taught to boys in preparation for initiation into manhood. Lore about how men need reguard women in intimacy. Lore you broke towards me. A lore which insists that, because men have higher thinking capacity than women, because men feel and are spiritually true when considering the future, and men’s selfhood is sustained by exchanging seifrot and mana with the past; and because women are lower, and more receptive and passive, and women feel and are spiritually true when considering the past, and women’s selfhood is sustained by exchanging seifrot and mana with the future; because these two facts combined, in acts of love, between the active and the passive, into the reconciled neutral, mean that men have the greater capacity to discern what act right now, in any and every moment now, will be more true and bring us all into a more perfect future, it is that men are who do, and women be the recipients of men’s causal love. Adam made Eve and Lileth was discredited.

You made me, and I will not, and could not, make you. Even when Adam himself tried, it winds up impossible for me to be caused into a vehicle causal to your problems, even for the sake of alleviating his. You made yourself through me, and that means my body is, in all its traits both positive and negative, your doing. Yet because I believe in Jesus, and I believe in God’s will, and I understand that the ressurection means we may all in Spirit one day soon enough, learn better how to combat the vices of the carnal body of flesh blood and bones, I understand well also how Jesus can often and easily, in brief moments as necessary, remove control of my body from you, and take control of me in a manner enabling of me in my belief in God, in love, and in the fact I need reguard you as always alive and living and undying in my every consideration of you yourself. The anti-christ you maybe, and towards me, you have life, and thus must in a way I am unable discern, also be accepting other than what lives inside yourself, but I have no part in causing that in you. I cause many others might more readily have less fear of the end of the carnal body, and I will avoid involving myself in any activity which risked increasing anybody’s fears, even while I am internally witnessing every day your efforts to increase my fear.

The important points here, repeating myself from yesterday’s letter, are that: you are who is doing, and I will not do you; if I discern you are doing it is because I am sensitive via sounds in dreaming, about who it is who is “singing” me; I am witnessing internally that Jesus can always prevent you, and also that through your having attempted manipulate other men into taking your fall for you, Satan gains more and more control over you by now; if you continue to attempt to prevent me from anything other than proving I was doing to you all your fuck ups, I will simply be required to write you another letter like this one, each and ever time, pointing out, that if you leave it all down to me, all I know of you was that you were the anti-christ, and while that might be all you were wanting to paint me as, it says in the Bible it will be a man. Obviously a man will do a better job of that nasty, but potentially necessary, role, than I could have.

For my part, if you want to heap the blame on me still now, you need only remember all those other private letters I wrote you, and too many of which you spread around among your family to read on your behalf. I felt sorry enough for you at that time, as that I sourced an incident in your childhood of a letter which was better left unread perhaps, as your excuse for not reading. So I repeat myself here now as well in another matter. Once, after I had a nasty run in with a nasty Englishman, who wore a navy blue rather than black leather, who had rode a Norton motorbike until he fell off by accident, who had a neo-nazi type of jive about him, and who told me then in 2005, about his speed psychosis meeting with me in his mind, when age only 17, 32 years before then, in 1973, after then, a really weird event occurred. One of the little people told me that in all the dreams of all the little people, I am well known to be Babylon. God bless The Little People. And sorry but, that other dude, he was far more scary than you, and far more dangerous towards this good Earth whose shelter is our home, and thus he stole all the redemption you might have had, if only you had not also run your set up of me back in time through as many sources as possible, most of all the police, by whose means the worst of the two beasts out of Daniel’s dream, who appear in Revelations, that one worse than you appearing before you, well, by his means, he enabled yours by which means he was enabled to be what he was imagining he wanted to be, and in far more drastic need of redemption than you ever have been.

Believe it or not, but this is of course the very detail of information you are always asserting was yours to properly own through me. So will you now please stop yourself from so often trying to force me into behaviour bad for my health, just so as you can find out more shit you don’t really even need to know. Besides which, you are, I know, at least as clairvoyant as I am, even if somewhat less clairsentient. Why you even bother is beyond me to know.

So now you see here, another lesson embodied itself into this letter I am writing as a repeat. Because it repeating myself, my writing improved, and another lesson got conceived of. The other lesson being in that, if only you had not attempted to find out what was going on with me by your method, but if instead you had relied upon simply asking me out of love, (and your own self-love ought to be enough, without any need for any affection towards me myself, even if you might need accept better in yourself that you liked me enough to have invited me to your home a few times), I will always let you know the honest truth of what my body is in any moment enacting. No harm in that, and done deed in fact, already the first time I accepted your offer, of course. Never mind the icing on the cake and the relevant anniversary, that was merely another round of more evidence to your hand in mine mate.

God bless you knowing all you know C*c*, I am thinking not more than you need have known of your own trajectory in time space. Space time. Perhaps now being time I let you know, even when all the Dog folks of Alice howled at me that you a dog, I refused to believe, but then, after an Ayahuasca ceremony, and I observed how the biggest body of water flowing foul underground ran out from under you being, and how it was connecting itself with many cleaner flows, I had to believe in you being more dog than crocodile. So don’t worry too much about the Pirana, dogs have enough wisdom to know not to swim among. And in your story of being the crocodile who raped Biaime’s wives, I believe it tells of how Biaime, hunting you down, could cut his wives out of your belly, and bring the women back to life by placing on an Ants nest temporarily. Well the Tent Embassy was where the Ant’s nest metaphor came home with me, and my experience of the Ants biting me, that happened before I even became Baptised, when, by a miracle, I survived.

And I survive yet, even if I delay seeking the document I left on a public computer through your deed having attempted prevent the document existing. Maybe the document is already deleted, but the fact is I already wrote it, and the basic concepts are already exactly as already repeated in this document. The measures of when you do what are never my own, I only assume you will want to know how I perceive it might have to be when in life a living measure. Take the matter up with men initiated into the secret sacred traditions of your own mind, land and family, if you wanted to correct me in my perception, that it better for yourself, if you had prevented that document from being saved correctly, if you had done it yesterday or today, better than six, seven, or eight years ago; if you wanted to correct me in that, better you do so via initiated men, properly initiated, and not engaging in false initiations which were the inductions into organized crime of the prisons. Already when you attempted have another man enact that of your intent, the whole story with me in it, landed into the concept of the status of Over30, as a prison construct about a certain status of having survived, landing in with a man of such status, with whom I mentioned already in this letter, I have travelled. Besides which, or is it the very point at which, my relevance is in that the Sun, the Moon, and all the Stars in the sky above us, will always over rule every bad choice made at Earth, even that to gain status such as Over30. Words enough here now written that any further you may need of me will ensue from my deed of making this letter available, now in public since that was your preference of me in my letter writing already,

with Love, from Rebekah.

p.s. My Mr W. W. I am addressing this towards, once again now, it transpires that there might be still a confusion in between your sense of who I am in our shared Skies under God, and my bodily behaviour at ground level; and in your case, that confusion became, perhaps unfortunately for yourself, a false concept of my body of solid matter, as if all its experiences and events belonged only in the sky. Better you had correct yourself as soon as possible now. If you wish not become the “Coco W(*)ar***” everybody knew was too bad for all, then please stand corrected, as ever self decent husband will enable a self decent wife correct himself. Take that as read, I will no mind your behaviour and your behavioural consequences will be all your own to abide in your end, (mine aligned with yours of course), but of the phenomenon of selfhood, and as your adulthood self you caused in the same moments you caused mine, correcting this one specific point of your misunderstanding I might every time, and will continue to be doing indefinitely ad infinitum. Please, do not keep confusing which matter was already solid, with which had not yet come down. Please remember, what goes up must come down. And please stop repudiating me while I am asserting I want not my solid matter body to be seen up in the sky. I want that I am visible only as men will hold me into God’s account of love through Christ Jesus. I want that my every behaviour is bound down into Earth’s carnal world as the suffering I endure out of love towards God above. I want freedom of mind, and if it was that you have enjoyed my freedom of mind as your own, I am who well understands the cost to yourself of your having avoided limiting me my innate freedom born in Christian love. Between now and you being visible in your true form, we have debts to one another to reconcile, and I will continue to think of you as the BEST I am capable of, being the nose of the Grim Reaper, a legitimate son of God in his own right, of our collective future to become the white light at the end of the tunnel, I saw in the dream of my being conceived when my father called me into my mother’s womb. You are no more than the nose, and leading by the nose, is as life ought, that I do not begrudge your having betrayed your own head and striven forth in pursuit of life when you know of your end. Someone had to do what could be done to prove, that when the shapes of life are seen apart from the colours, that was the direction in which was nothing of means but only ends.

p.p.s. And the worst that could happen to me while you are reading my website, other letters, etc, is and was, in that which men happened to have been the police, might have happened to have also been the same men I once or twice now have trusted enough, so as to tell them, about their policing being a phenomenon I am capable of observing; yet inasmuch as I might have broken my word by telling them, at least I told themselves rather than anybody else, . . . and if you would have me oppose myself again in having stated no intention of exposing undercover policing, well I could hardly have helped myself when I blurted out, nothing to talk about, and what we mind safer by when abiding within the law whoever they are can police.

Heaven Bent


I thought I’d no further

Need that I relate for you

Of a man’s concept as he be

Of the is-ness of what was not

As if what he is he did by me

As if I became capable of causing he

Yet who he made be what he wasn’t

And as if all he is was made by me

When I hadn’t but

The means except as he does me

That of course I know that I did not

Yet that he hide that also know did he of

And from and how he believed

Became in as much as how it be we

Communicate will be difficult to take

And while I appear as though I complicate

Him he caused the complexity I became

To be becoming as I become in becoming me

All the while as if imagining how

This could potentially have been

Without him seriously realising

As if, as if, as if, as if, . . .

As if nothing of my solid world

And experiential reality is

Butit be as he claims his

According to him that being never me

At least not until I observed him

Through another man’s lens

Communicated by a few more men

All asserting our collective reality

Ought never get that bent

Until one day when

In my observing him he

So overtly wanted the solid facts around me

To be becoming of his own reality

As that I pondered why perhaps had he

And realised his abiding error unfolding

We all ought celebrate as his unveiling

Interminable success story

Of the error in every crime

Becoming exposed all the time

Being his internal need of criminity

As everything eternal will be

Appearing as if forever ending

Whenever he relies upon looking through me

In his belief he could have caused

As his right to look of course

And yet as if to thereby cause me

Cause his reality he became the

Anti-christ unto his own hand

Still seeking mine out

As if my evidence he’d unfound

Himself deigning to do nothing now

And then by my shoulder I knew

All that evil did was try undo the moon

At least for his own kind

Yet feigning as if of only mine

We might think he had known too soon

For in eternity he yet will be

Who long ago first knew Jesus tune

That fragment fallen to the ground

Anti-christ son of God of lesser renown

Brother to Satan be willing and found

Awaiting his need and bound

By his own higher fragment also come down

Who as the head refused the task

Of doing me unto my last

Breath I take by he who made

Me wife unto his own desire

He be no more than nose sound

A fragment of the Grim Reaper who alone

Knows all of what he knows

And if in your mind you were possessed

By how his bind sought to unbless

Understand his thought assert

No accident ever fell at Earth

While for my part as his wife

I can’t forgive his nasty part

And merely might remend his tart

Ensuring he was often well fed

With knowledge he might not have known

Of what he caused in all Earth’s bones

Be in truth real accident

Just as once when assunder rent

The Moon is yet my guardian