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Tag Archives: pain
Next to a school, a tree is being cut down. The people cutting the tree do not take into consideration where the tree will fall, once it goes down. The tree falls onto the school next to which it is standing. The tree collapses on top of a class room, smashing through the roof and walls. Inside many children are injured and one boy aged 7 loses his leg.
The question is who is responsible for such accidents in our society? Did the people cutting down the tree have to rush the job to get to their next job because of money? Did they not have sufficient training to cut down a tree and due to lack of money, the community could not hire people who did have the know-how? Did the people who cut down the tree simply not care?
One of the crucial points of the Equal Money System will be that people who train themselves to do a specific job, will do so because they realize how it benefits humanity. We will train ourselves not for greed or prestige, but because we treasure life and contribute in developing a world that is best for all. Therefore people who for example in a community will take the responsibility of cutting down trees or tending to nature, will not rush the jobs because they don’t care or because they need to get to the next job. Such people will also be trained effectively because there is no financial reason such as companies hiring inexperienced people at lower wages. Therefore we take care of each other as you would want to be taken care of. Therefore in an Equal Money system the value is life for all equally and the accidents we see now due to human error will decrease significantly, as no one is doing what they do from the perspective of ‘lack of’ or disinterested.
This is the key in the first place to all acknowledging the value of an equal money system. It is in realizing the benefits of such a system. It is not just about ‘equal money from birth’ – it is everything associated with the change in values of humanity. The decision made by the majority of people, to change to an Equal Money system does not just happen on a ‘monetary’ level – it starts because within each we realize, as I have that we no longer want a world where things happen because of greed, because we have stopped caring and now only live to survive.
Currently we live in a world where no-one can be trusted and our children, nature and ourselves are paying the price – at any moment your life or ‘limb’ can be taken away due to the negligence of another. Imagine yourself in one moment having your life or body compromised simply because someone else for a moment acted from a starting point of negligence, simply because they could not care to see you safe? Imagine if the reason why you are injured or killed was because that person did not care because he was being directed by money? This is the world we have created, it is all around you – watch the news. Therefore to say these things happen because ‘someone else’ did not care – is also not valid – we as humanity have all agreed to the capitalist system, to greed, to profit. Therefore it is us who have decided that we will harm each other in the name of money. It is each one of us that is responsible for the pain and suffering caused in this world because everyone together has become lethargic as the human, has almost become ‘evil’. If a god existed I would sure as hell be ashamed because if he is watching what goes on inside each one – what he would see is the true nature of humanity. We are sure as hell not the image and likeness of anything more than what we are now. No-one can exclude themselves from this – because every human looks at what is going on in the name of money and within how the current world systems function and simply shrugs it of and ‘hopes’ it never happens to them or their family. Each person who read this article and all similar articles about the boy who lost his leg, will react for a moment and in your mind secretly think ‘I hope that never happens to ‘my child’ as a fear ripples through your stomach – not considering that the little boy is someone’s child.
This is the ultimate deception we have become as humanity.
Since starting sexual intercourse about three months ago I have experiened various levels of discomfort and illness. Due to not using sufficient lubrication I scratched the inside of my vagina (vaginal wall) and thereafter I developed a slight infection which then resulted in a full blown bladder infection. Now I have heard of bladder infections being difficuilt to remove or just plain impossible, however what I am experiencing leaves me with this distinct idea that this is no ordinary bladder infection.
Halfway through the ‘session’ I would feel myself becoming scratched on the inside> I was not aware that this was, not so cool, so I would continue. Eventually I was completely raw and then decided to go to my gynie
I have been to the ‘doctor’ a few times, and I am not normally one to go to doctors. I have always been quite good with sorting out my own health issues’ just by using Kinesiology or self-forgiveness. However this bladder infection has not been easy to work with. The first time I got the bladder infection was when I forgot to use sufficient lubrication. Now sex to me, you must understand was a very traumatic experience. I was never able to have sex, because I was molested by some men at a party when I was young and have since then ‘detested’ sex and never quite understood why. It had taken me up till now to see what happened and why I harboured such rage against men. I then realised that for me to release myself from this decision to hate men and sex forever, I would have to push beyond my own ‘limitations’ (the decision to give this event power over me). So, with the assistance of Anthony who I am in an agreement with, I pushed through the painful sexual intercourse part and proceeded to work on having intercourse. this was extremely difficuilt as the pain was nearly unbearable as well as I felt trapped and sufficated with a penis inside me. But what was interesting was when I started doing forgiveness on ‘the event that took place’ I actually was then able to have intercourse! Obviously not 100% painfree, but I was actually able to lie there and exist merely as the breath and support myself through the initial painful experience of intercourse and just breath, instead of having all sorts of panic reactions rush through me and give me all sorts of reason to become hysterical.
So once I moved past that point I then started enjoying myself from the perspective that I then allowed myself to start experiencing me. I would push me to start feeling more within my vagina and I also started seeing myself from a new perspective. Obviously one is always here, therefore you dont actually ‘re-appear’ or something but I saw within me how it was possible for me to move beyond my greatest fears. So then I started playing with intercourse but found myself to be unsure of how to have sex. Yes, things like proper lubrication is an absolute must. I thought that it was fine lubricating somewhat in the begining. Hey! They dont show you how to lubricate properly when your ‘guide to having sex’ comes from memories of porn films. So we would slap on a bit of lube and off we go.
Eventually I became to rubbed and raw on the inside, due to how much sex I was having (in order for me to overcome limitations), that I was now sore and uncomfortable. I went off to my gynecologist and she poked her head in my hole and told me that I was bruised and rubbed raw. Now when she said raw she meant, streaks of flesh that had been rubbed open, not just ‘raw’. In her medical blasé fashion she mentioned that I should take it easy and quict with the overexcesive sex for a bit. This was actually hilarious because instead of stopping having sex until I was completely healed, I stopped for a while and then cassually continued, yet again not using enough lube.
A while after that I developed baldder infection. After going to a few emergency doctors I then went to see my gyne. She just sat there and told me about possible bladder disfuctions. She did not even look inside, which is why I went to a gynecologist and not a male GP. What was weird is that she was not the least concerned to actually check the vagina to see what is wrong on the inside. I went to her a week ago and told her that I have been to two emergency doctors with this infection and each time the infection is suppressed by the medication for a week. then it returns. So she tells me that if the medication she gives me now does not sort out the infection then I will have to go to a different specialist a ‘urinologist’ who will do all sorts of tests on me and then probably operate on my bladder. Her suggestion was take the medication and we’ll see. I must say I walked out of there ‘thinking’, you know I realise that other doctors have told me that I have bladder infection, but is she not even going to look inside and see what my infection looks like? I mean here she is talking about bladder defects and possible ‘corrective’ surgery, when she has not even looked inside to say ‘fuck me it’s infected’ or ‘shame look at you bladder that is swolen and infected!’
So i walked out of there fearing the worst. Ooh man I hate operations I’ll admit to that and I hate having needles stuck in my arm. So I walked out of there thinking ‘oh God now what i Cant afford this operation and I dont like being operated on’.
In the last few weeks since she gave me the medication that apparently knocks the shit out of any infection I have not taken the medication but instead used homeopathics. Homeopathics are not ussually my first choice because they take ages to work and ussually firstly make the symptoms worse before it gets better. I decided though that medication is even worse, so i wll try homeopathics first. It did actually assist with the infection imensely and I was starting to feel the relieve of ‘Oh maybe I dont have a bladder dysfunction’. Then like an idiot I go and have sex while I am still mentruating. I was so sure that the infection was gone or at least ‘very much subsided’ that I jumped right in and had sex. Now nobody tells you about how the body works and how to have sex when there is an underlying bladder infection. So what I did was slap on some patroleum jelly (we ran out of lube) and had intercourse. Because I had just finishesd my period, the lining of my uturis where the mentrual blood comes out was till repairing itself (again nobody tells you this) and I go and tear the opening of this ‘healing section’ while insisting that Anthony ‘goes deeper’. Ha ha. So next thing I experience this sharp pain and my orgasm goes flooding through me, but I felt that the orgasm was more of a pain reflex, which is the body’s way of saying ‘Oh shit fuck ok somethings wrong here so i’ll just orgasm and maybe it will stop’. After the ‘orgasm’ i felt waves move through my stomach area. Then when Anthony pulls out we see blood on the bed. I get up to go and shower (the gyne suggested this to ensure no bacteria gets into the infected area). When I get to the shower Anthony says that there is blood all over the back of my legs. I look and see that there is some weird stringy stuff coming out my vagina and blood. This was the lining of the mentrual stuff that we had disturbed while ‘poking’ it and now it was discharging. I felt myself get very dizzy, because i was so aware of my body and the infection that any shock to my vagina area caused me to just get a big fright! So I had to lie down and wait for the dizzyness to subside.
Then a day later, what comes back with a mother sized vengeance? The bladder infection. How? Well when I puctured the blood lining that was still healing I also scraped the place in the vagina that was ‘previously’ infected. This shock through my system from the pain was enough to cause the infection, that was very much underlying within the cells – to pop back up. See, whenever i had managed to subdue this infection though proper eating, water drinking and homeopathics/medication it was only until the next time I go and upset that area. Now I ask myself this: why does my ‘infected area’ get bruised so easily? This is due to how my own body does not produce enough lubrication and when I have sex I place pressure on the part that I scratched previously. Because we dont use proper lubrication it tears at the skin and then the infection starts again. Apparently K-Y jelly does not support the rubbing process. This I have learnt what ‘the hard way?’ So then the infection came back. I started feeling the pain and I used the homeopathic remedy as per ussual, only this time it did nothing. I realised that obviously my body was adjusting to the homeopathics and that i was to take the medication ‘that knocks the shit out of any infection’. So I did. I did not want to but hey fuck me it was sore. So I swallowed the first one. For the rest of the day and evening I experienced sporatic bouts of pain and urinary burning, but by this morning the infection has ‘let up a tad’. So, I write now because I am looking at how and why i allowed this infection to occur:
Within my mind consciousness is a thread of information that links my own believes about sex with how my body fuctions. If I view sex as disgusting or horrible then the thread of information, takes this statement and places it within my bladder and sex organs. Once I have sex the sexual intercourse ‘initiates’ this thought construct and I then experience myself as ‘violated’. Now dont get me wrong, I do enjoy Anthony and sex, but I have this ‘hidden’ (whatever) desire to cause people pain that have sex because they concider it fun to degrade woman. Now within me that statement is obviously, not cool, because I see how we all experience sex as cool and fun, so my own sexual addictions that I have had are no different to what any other person experiences ; HOWEVER what I do within my own body is cause myself extreme pain because I manifest any sexual experience as ‘this infection’. So my views of sex being the infection of the mind manifested as every disgusted minded boy, man and girl out there is how I then manifest it within me.
Due to this, I have decided to never have sex again…. ha ha see the cycle? Now my only solution, due to fear of pain and hospitals is to stop having sex. This in itself brings me back to why I never wanted to have sex in the first place. So I have built up a resentment to sex AGAIN through how I have assisted this infection within me.
The solution: Self-forgiveness. To forgive myself for hating people who have sex, because they are fucked by the sex system.
I forgive myself for alowing myself to internalise this hatred. I forgive myself for judging people who have sex, because they are fucked by a system. I forgive myself for having sex and concidering myself unworthy of having sex. I forgive myself for being resentful towards myself for alollwoing thoughts to determine my sexual expression. I forgive myself for experiencing discomfort during sex and therefore allowing myself to build up a resistence to it. I forgive myself for being angry with myself for existing as a female expression that allows myself to create sex desires in this world. I forgive myself for participating in sex talk as a means to give us a reason to want to have sex. I forgive myself for viewing humans as disgusting because nobody is willing to stop what they are doing and seeing what we have created. i forgive myself for resentment towards myself for allowing myself to be fucked by the sex system and therefore finding a ‘reason/excuse’ to no longer participate in sex. I forgive myself for not being honest about how I view sex. I forgive myself for harbouring ‘ill’ thoughts about sex, and therefore creating this infection within me. i forgive myself for resenting myself for being me sometimes, with all my issues and all my ‘problems. Sometimes I experience myself as just being here and ‘free’ to express and then when something like this happens I become angry with me for creating ‘uneccesary’ shit.
As I write this I ask myself the question why we all like writing about our childhood – can we not just let it go. However, within my childhood I see how I created myself and how I came to be – here now. So I will give insight into it: I remember my father was a very quiet, depressed man, my mom as she is now – angry, erritated and worked up. My father did not want to be here, he was caught in his head, worrying about feeding his family and child hood traumas. I of course only wanted him to hold me and play with me, but he was a troubled man and therefore stayed in his own room, cooked his own food and did not have much to say.
At some stage my dad had a mild heart attack and I remember standing just outside the doctor’s room, listening to the doctor tell my mom that if my father did not ‘stop smoking’, that my father would die. So, my major concern then became: when will my father die and what am I able to do to prevent this? I tried speaking about this to him, but he told me ‘to just ignore it’. I then realised a while later, from watching my father, that he was indeed going to die. I just knew it. He was always sad and alone and always smoked (at that stage I was of the opinion that yes smoking does kill you). From this I came to understand that he was going to die. The rest of the time, from that point forward I spent watching and waiting. If my father came home from work in the evenings, I experienced a flood of relieve. If he was late from work, my little brain would be wrecked with fear, I would be consumed, fearing that any minute the phone was going to ring….
Then one day I was doing homework in my room and my mom walks in. She appeared worried, sad. My heart was racing because it had been doing so ever since the conversation between my mom and the doctor. She stood before me and told me that my dad had another heart attack and was in hospital. Of course the realisation that the moment was there just sunk into me, how inevitable it was. That evening we visited him in hospital and I would hardly speak to him. I was angry because he was aware that this was going to happen, yet it did not stop him from ‘smoking’.
I remember vaguely praying to Jesus or God that night and begging for my father not to die, same shit different story. Early the next morning, angels did not descend down from the heavens as my father was fighting for his life in a hospital bed, instead he suffered repeated heart attacks and died. I experienced what any young child does, when they receive such news, I was shocked, I did not cry. I waited for my father’s funeral before I cracked inside the church and became hysterical. That day something in me snapped. I was very angry. I was tired. I had been waiting and fearing his death for many years and i just wanted my father to hold me without me worrying about when he will die, or me feeling his stiffness and depression.
After his funeral, I became very angry. I had decided that God ‘betrayed’ me and that he was no good. What kind of world do we live in where a God, gives a child a father that hardly speaks to her, then has her spend here ‘childhood’ worrying about when exactly he will die and then like a sick, prolonged joke, he… dies. It came out years later that the bank he was working for was joining another bank and that on that particular day they were going to retrench people. My father was so worried that he was going to loose his job, and had told my mother that he was not sure how they were going to cope if he lost his job. Apparently the day of his heart attack, he already left the house having the first heart attack. My sister noticed that he was sweating and looked pale, but he asked her not to say anything. He did not want to upset anybody. So after i heard that my anger at myself and the money system started. I ‘blamed’ myself because I caused his death and the money system drove his body to death.
I tell this part of the story because in a way it was a blessing and a curse. That was unfortunately a path that i took of self-hate and self anger. On the other side, that was the first day I questioned the existence of God. I was eleven and I remember standing in my garden and yelling up at the skies: ‘Whether there is a God or not I dont care, you are not a God’. ‘If there is such a thing as a devil, I will serve him instead, i will show you!’ Yes that was very dramatic, but that is in a way what drove me insane. A couple of days later, my father’s best friend came to ‘pay his respect’ and ended up fondling me when my mom went to bed. Let us just say…that was not helping. From that point my quest to ignore God and blasphemy his name was how I spent my school years, and then I became afraid and tried to get close to him, by ‘worshiping’ him. From that point forward, you can watch my videos on youtube.
I forgive myself for crying for my father’s death
I forgive myself for seeing this world as cruel
I forgive myself for being afraid of what this world is able to ‘manifest’, as myself, as that which each one of us has ‘become’
I forgive myself for crying because children are so innocent and have no clue about what really happens in this world
I forgive myself that I put myself through all the hell, just to prove a point to a God that does not exist
I forgive myself that in taking on God, I ended up taking on me, because I am the only one that will experience what I create
I forgive myself that sometimes I feel really old and unable to just be
I forgive myself for feeling as if i have been doing this for more than just one life time
I forgive myself for crying for the past
I forgive myself for allowing myself to think and feel
I forgive myself for fearing that if I do not stop feeling tired and old, that i will die
I forgive myself for only now embracing me. I love me and I want for nothing but to just be
I do not want to chase dreams and fears and worries any longer. I forgive myself for feeling like I am tredding water sometimes, and for finding ‘beingness’ difficuilt
I forgive myself for fearing, just breathing and stopping, because I have found that if I stop then I stop moving and all I do is run and play all day. How am i able to run and play when animals and people are being abused and killed
I forgive myself for feeling pressurised to do something, yet at the same time, just be
Therefore my beingness is rushed and worried that i am supposed to be surviving and doing things to stop the lies in this world.
I will continue…