If you, like I,

are faced with these questions daily, maybe you also fumble around in the dark looking only for the exit you already know does not exist. Captured and imprisoned without a remaining single drop of hope. A droplet that could even tease the thirst of a severely dehydrated body. An excruciating despair for all eternity remains but in this mental and physical pain I still wonder. I wonder if this meta system's oppresions suffering prison box is all that is left. A life debilitated by a constant head pain and a vertigo’s nausea which is set off by electromagnetic and military style wave weapons or broadcast wifi functions that blast your own stored electric energy like magnetic waves through the brain and something behind it all so treacherously evil one is deemed to be mad if trying to explain, bio hacking is the future of humanity. An extraordinary treachery that lays the deterministic path to one's inedible grave. Or is the journey back into Plato’s cave just one forever dark imprisonment. An imprisonment merely realized as another past flickered shadow on the illusionists wall. No more sunlight and sandy beaches; freedom to breathe the air of choice. The air, once an absolute given from the creators’ of nature's world, now also stolen from you. Either way, if I were to escape it would be for this one reason: to find out if one peacefully survives again and if that unerringly were what ‘life’ ever was. And if it is at all possible, to forget the hidden world that has been illuminated.

Via significant incident shifts varying in intensity my conscious being against all will or previous knowledgeable thoughts was thrusted into the meta modern cultural changes and illuminating many of the horrors of the unknown. The unknown all that stuff that people are afraid of, and a risky strategy is this. To pretend the seas are not rising while all is well on the Titanic, a cowerdice I see a lot.

One such shift includes a type shaming that esoterically may have been organized from birth and from the minds mind of a collective neoplatonists outer stratospheres earth. Following all shifts life now is alien while alienated and continues are too many to describe torturous methods that daily are constant. Torture now only seems like a continuous and regular reminder, ‘for us variants this world is out of this world cruel and messed up.' They may have come at you with evil's scapegoat theory, the theory that will for them make things much, much worse. They may have come at you with the devils oppression and the romantisized version of The Book of Job. They may have announced the now universes law, cheery picked from the bible with sins of the father. 'Behold fellow collectives and elites take stock, he maybe a good fella and innocent but the law is the law of the universe.'

The combined methods unveiled in an awakening are like a granite conglomerate over many years cemented together for purpose: the forming of a matrix of pain. The 2001 A Space Odyssey monolith suddenly appears in room with the sudden violence of brain therapy and shock treatment. The exploding neural network is super-fast in reconnecting but not before the feeling that one had just quantum travelled into a universe’s parallel dimensions. Travelling to the other dimensions leaves one totally isolated from others suddenly talking a little bit cryptic, mythic and jiberish. People are more like faulty androids and almost dissconnected from their former selves, full of lies, evil and contradictions. A behavior in people that had almost announced itself periodically throughout one's life, is now only constant. Messages from the unknown are suddenly death threats threatening, arriving with just impossible tasks, a quick introduction into valley and hill crossing where in the desert most will die and while you search for your next Sysiphis hill find the others. Sometimes the crossing of dimensions is achieved via the most violent of accidents.

Who would know if this was only truth. The truth that leaves me with this current desired mission, to find my way back. I now must continually ask myself would one really want to go back to live in a world pre understanding of accidents, pre awakening and as I remember, co-existing mostly with ignorance, denial, and a refusal to acknowledge the darker facets of existence. In a realm where "seeing no evil" equates to the absence of evil, now seems like a prospect supporting a society on the cusp of an absolute evil. Deceived and gasslite by their governments is a futures prospectus dangerously fraught with deceit and certainty for most all.

My journey is a journey through an alchemical magician’s illusionary and wonderous cosmic of magic. An alchemist’s secret world run by puppeteers whom in this world appear more saintly but later reveal themselves as split personalities do. Lifting the vale to very dark seated soles and whom inhibit a forever unfulfilled hunger for humans’ overly oxygenated frightened blood. As if out of a biblical sacrifice they have seeked out the blood of the innocent. Unfortunately, until one knows just what gods exists innocent most are. Treacherous goblins and fallen angels, the watchers and helper pagan witches who prey over one’s life like a demonic child playing with ants and fire. Penultimately when they have grown tired of your responses or failing to break your will, blast you through to another dimension which so happens to be this dimension. And into what feels as if a lunatic sociopath’s and psychopath’s together have enforced technological cultural changes which all took place while we continue to just sleep. Where from inside the matrix all the puppets who reside as unknown and the worst of the two knowingly, serve the dark side of humanity. In this new world vulnerable stripped and powerless, subjected to the betrayal and cruelty from those supposed closest is where in the dark of the cave a crawling over thin creaking ice journeys begins.

Twice now I have walked away from accidents that did not defy the laws of physics but only needing all the laws of a quantum physics to assure one’s survival. A multitude of variables intertwine by their connectedness, through a precise staggering of each variable timing they converge to culminate into the ultimate of conclusions. Not only to serve as a delibitated life directional path but to blindside into the mind of the innocent the absolute appearance that one must either be blessed by a god or the luckiest person alive. This is the truth or truth is you die in one dimension and for mystical reasons appear simultaneously in a new other. This nuttily would put me into a class of people labelled as inter dimensional travellers.

Either way my mission now, seems to be about finding my way back or at the very least coming to understand just what is going on with humanity and this sleeping treacherous, spinning out of control dimension. For five years now (at the time of writing), the later part I have neglected as any personified truth. And with me in this moment wrighting this short story, just maybe it is a part of me that has it figured out and whether threatened or not my search and verbalization of truth continues to the very end. This is me playing them at their own game writing as cryptic as I can be. If you are clever enough while disgarding the madness and reading in between the lines we are left with a truth, all of it. To accident or dimension leap one

Although with neither of my suspiciously dangerous accidents do I really believe responsible for blasting my consciousness into another dimension. My enforced awakening had showed me the now connectedness of all things and momentously illumnating a life are all caused results and the prolific use of causes and effect. With all those oddish behaviours and questions that gathered like objects filling a room, all in a singular moment answered. Something had been there all along and it would not take a quantum traveling to expose it. However, accidents do represent how sudden change in world views can ambiguously happen with a wallop. This accident is about the one accident that connected a multiple of accidents by a singular thought. Signalling and beginning changes to my world forever.

A red-faced plumber’s van driver is preoccupied in a vociferous road rage exchange. To be the first away at the congested traffic T intersection and not paying any attention to the right of way or green/red lights, the van driver synchronises a waving of the furious fist while also flooring it to cutt the other car off. “Me first you ruddy such and such,” surmising had screamed from his mouth like a fowl chicken struggling a very large egg.

Meanwhile I'm in the cycle lane riding on the downslope at about 25 to more like 30 km per hour. Moments before the lights had turned green, relaxing the senses to the point of no need to speed up or slow down. I was an experienced rider who knew full well green lights pose more danger than illegally riding reds. For those interested in such a fact, riding through a red, one’s own senses are best trusted to the point of eliminating a higher percentage on the element of surprise. I could write the argument in detail, but this story is about an accident and interdimensional travel.

Immediately following the accident, I was sitting on my rear feeling a little embarrassed while my mind sets into a type overdrive, ‘how did, am I dead, is this life after dead. ok, i am not dead, proof: conscious thoughts. Am I concused, how is it I am not even concused’. Believe me you know, instant concusion i pretty scary. A soft hand tenderly touches my shoulder alerting me in an instant, attentively I shake off the emabarrasement, “are you alright,” she says. “I uhm”, while still astounded, stumbles from my mouth without any other words to be found. She helps me to my feet with a concerned and caring set into her eyes. “Your head is bleeding”, she says. Her observation immediately startled me into a somewhat vein realization.

Very recent I had started shaving my head and my immediate focus transfixed on self-image and my perfectly shaped egg head. The consequences to knocks and grazes sprung into my mind. In most road accidents gravel burn road rash is worsened by speed. If there remain any forward momentum when landing, was going to leave the new bald look truly messed up with a skull peeled back to bone and sizable scares. Standing up and carefully pulling the red baseball cap from my head, I asked, how bad is it? She replies nodding her head, ‘well its bad.’ I ask her to clarify bad, “does it look as if my head has hit and skidded or is the damage more of an impregnation of road.” Thankfully, her terminology of bad referred only to the sizable elongated golf ball now popped out of my head, just as they did in Beano comic magazine.

It is then I hear a witnesses from the crowd, egregiously describing the accident to the van driver. “You were busy waving and screaming in road rage at the other driver and failing to notice you were taking off through a red light. I watched you from start to end,” he finished with. And I noted, wow people seem angry. London cyclist getting a hounding by press and public had become an every day norms making the peoples directed anger nice for a change.. Depending on the amount of negative media attention and so much so, under most circumstances cyclists are deemed the danger and always in the wrong. One is killed on an intersection, green light or not, opinions are they should not have been there. If only people instead of becoming overly aggressive and making a cyclist life way more dangerous become just that little more aware about the multiple reasons behind these periods of bad press. Apart from providing highly emotional issues for public distractions from reality or used like a timestamp gap for leagacy media news, to follow is their multi purpose goal and campaigns of revenue collecting. I guess visually seeing the consequence to a pathetic and all too common idiotic road mentality can drive the most placid of pedestrians into rage. Against the media programmed odds suddenly they came to defend me the cyclist. I had so many fuelled by anger witnesses the claiming of a small fortune and £15,000 was the done deal. Or perhaps they remained in interest behind, wondering if the guy who had landed on his helmetless head would suddenly drop dead.

I look up to see the van that is fast accelerating straight into my red zone. The Red zone is the un-avoided crash zone. The vehicle gathering in speed fast did not look like a vehicle that would or could stop before passing straight through the red zone. The same terror feelings invoked when suddenly cast into a dream and at the end of your fall the detail ground rushes in filling your entire field of vision. You just know in the eye-popping moment avoidance will not be avoided.

A reflex’s slam on the front brake, hurtling me over the handlebars into an upside-down position. With eyes still transfixed to the van and from the reverse side up I glimpse the passenger arms frantically trying to alert the driver to the front. Not a 1000th of a second to spare the driver spins his head while simultaneously slamming on his brakes and his emergency stop fails preventing the van from stopping in center the cycle lane. Colliding with the Mercedes van at the exact point of stop, at the point the suspension had fully bottomed out with the front bumper just inches from the road. Like a flash moving photography I see the bumper in line with my head. My body was like a sponge and moulded to the front fitting comfortably like fingers in a glove. Right shoulder slipping above and on bumper and hips to legs sprawled from bottom to top of window screen as the wipers take grip of my side clothing. I skid across the face of van and the bounce from the spring-loaded suspension pushes me off, throwing me clear of the van with only more elevation. The van stopped all spin momentum and now upside down free from the van and free as if floating in a space and time with this one thought paused in my neural pathways, a synchronistic thought.

This exact same thought had arrived for the second time during a cycle accident which at first, I need to return. The first time in the background of my thoughts are the mysteries from my previous two drama filled days. For six weeks I had ridden my cycle from London to Largos, Portugal and the release from a highly adrenalized esoteric adventure was immense. Another story which finished off with a long downhill to the Portugal’s coast and a relieving period while now in traffic and feeling finally safe from the extremely isolated roads that lay path through the large forestries. A story that integrally connects to this story but nobody at present will believe it.

My legs were feeling surprisingly great after a previous days quick 170 km. So, I started to envision how great it would be to ride back to London via the east coast of Spain and not letting the previous two-day misadventure from now affecting me. An absolute barney idea and not planned; among other things I could ill afford the time let alone the ride and despite everything the temptation was only building. My life was never rational and was not going to start now. For one thing the psychopaths and dangers in the world I did not want to let get the better of me.

My more immediate thoughts where about all the London Road and cycle accidents previously, I’d been in. A common variable to four out of five previous accidents was firstly going over the handlebars. I had been in accidents not countless times but too many times and in all of them I noticed that my hands had saved me from what could have been quite serious injuries. While riding my bike in the south of Portugal I was marvelling to myself about the speed of my reactionary hands and how they seemed so instinctive at saving injuries to the head. And in this moment, I wondered if actually possible that they would instinctively “always” save me. In that moment, a notification arrived on my phone mounted on the handlebars. I reached for the phone feeling a little uncomfortable with one hand on the bars and that voice that said you should not be doing this just now. Ignoring that voice and uncharacteristic of the day, a tornado whirlwind of sand and dust wisped up on my left bursting from the trees. Catching me by surprise the gusty force blew me sideways until both wheels trapped side on to a smallest at about one inch and a half change in height paths, as it was a bus stop built for wheelchair access.

Riding at a reasonable pace over sideways I go with a thump and the first thing coming into my brain you by now are able to guess it; my right arm is stuck to the underside of my right side of body. My right hand gripped flat in a vice of hip and concrete, de skinning the backside and rendered useless for any task of saving my head. I slid so far, I could have written a synchronistic poem about my ironic Cool Hands Luke are not able to do anything. On the concrete I came to a sliding stop but not before the forces simulate the rear of a van in an emergency stop, lifting my feet and hips high and shifting all my weight onto my underside shoulder. My shoulder was not unlike the front tyres of a van while under the stress of UBS anti-skid shuddering emergency stops. Consequently, the now lifted angle brings my head to the concrete to take the last hit.

**< The last hit taking off a pin prick of skin and drew less blood than a half pin prick and despite the pains screeching from my side the nick was noticed with clarity. The rest of me did not get away with natures or gods joke and encrypted synchronistic message, as my right leg, hand and shoulder succumbed to road gravel damage. This time my head got away with just a spec of a reminder. A reminder that reinforces my felt sense that your hands Luke will not always save you, nor your head. The gods were not happy with my dreaming and thoughts of riding home leaving me in a small mess. With all thoughts of continuing quickly forgotten, it was time to search for a bike box and a flight for London home.

...returning to Mercedes van ‘Your cool hands Luke will definitely not save your head’, the words directly spoke to me. With both hands besides each hip knowing what was soon to come I add a quick thought to the synchrony, life is over and instantly feeling robbed. With gravity and air as the only wrong defences my helmetless head bangs into the road with an indescribable crunching force. Bouncing straight off my head and onto my backpack making the last part feel as if landing into the softness of a cloud. This was the second time landing on my backpack, the first doing a 270-degree flip over top of a bonnet to a car and landing flat on back n backpack. That day I had felt the weird circumstantial comfort too and lucky to be awake and abled to make the comfortable connections instantly joines the huh thoughts.

I opened my eyes to the puffy clouds dotted in the sky and with the clang of all clangs still heavily vibrating my mind. Taking a deep breath and feeling weirdly embarrassed I pushed myself up into the sitting position. Noting, I guess to add to all my wonder, the van was at least two meters behind. The mystery if unknowable was my skull did not utterly shatter and my neck stayed sturdy but to clarify the film The Adjustment Bureau uncourteously comes to mind. Maybe I was lucky having paused in the air like a Micheal Jordan dunk and coming straight down to bounce off the road like the ball off the court.

Escaping with an impregnated bang to the topside of forehead I noticed something immediately following the accident. I was not traumatised by this what would easily rate as my worst. Trauma formerly was something you could never escape following accidents. All of them emotionally you would take time to regather your confidence on the bike. This could either take hours, days or even a couple of weeks, but this accident and in this way left me with no emotional distress. My mind preoccupied with the mystical and mysterious universe left the scene of the accident with one question, a cursing why? From the gods I never got any immediate answers and while riding away I had another thought. For reasons now I do not understand and at some point, in the future I am going to understand the why reason this ‘accident’ happened. It all came together when walloped into the metamodern systems enlightenment. My faith in the deceiving universe was also why I never hung round and made a claim from this accident. A decision I do not regret but faith without trust I no longer have in a universe.

After the accident, my next day reactions might explain where I was in life. I was quick to post a photo of the large golf ball lump on my head and onto Instagram. Thinking the mysteries of the universe needed shared. Today I definitely do not, which brings me to the second question in the title.

I don’t know how to truly give up. My own mother’s death did not start my thinking on life and death, but it certainly has contributed since. You see, I deeply believe all born on this planet should have a chance at living the full term of their life. Life and death should be in the hands of God or creator and not controlled in the manor it is and by man’s evil. This sacrificial life is not for the greater good and leaves lives with no choices or options and means of escape. And this is the only reason I post this kind of personal revealing stuff online. I am tired of feeling isolated, alone in this metamodern world and faced with unusual circumstances that people cannot and refuse any understanding.

With other people, I don’t know if this is arrogance or ignorance. On the large they are ignorant while feeling they actually know something about what is happening with the world. How can they when incapable of listening or telling truth and hypnotised by their Netflix movies or TV. Let us only hope the dark fictional realities entertaining, does not become their sudden truths as they had and have mine. To my horror it is only since that I have watched Netflix. Pre-2000 I stopped reading and watching the looping repetitious stories output by papers news and tv. With truth my only living defence is something general people do not have and without I can only imagine the worst. I don’t know if the systems metamodern cultural changes that one’s and all are shockingly rocketed into will always keep me cornered in a tiny little black mirrors box. I remain curious about how many of us variants there are, and I have assumptions on who and what variants actually are, and may others prove some of my assumptions to be wrong I really wish for.

Following my shifts, the universe gave a multiple of reasons which include using the mythology behind the book of Job as just part of an explanation. In the biblical story and where seemingly the reasons to why all the terrible evil things done to Job, Job was never explained. He does get the somewhat contentious explanation from God, with a, “who are you to question my process, and what have you created.” Job must have thought why are you answering a question with a question, is this not exemplary for deceit and politicians. This story leaves me deeply suspicious on the origins and meanings of stories from the bible. And only shows yet again the hypocrisy that twists and turns. In this dimension violence is the darks not so hidden tool and they do not return what was stolen. Holding nothing in their power that can ever replace what was stolen. Unless miraculously I am sent yet again into another dimension but this time with the tools to defy evil the game…

Although my lifetime journey holds identical mythical paths with Sisyphus, Pinnochio and The book of Job, this feels a bit of a red pill hard to swallow complete. On the uphill and downhill slopes life was unusually tough but it would be a lie if said, “pre-awakening I did not enjoy life defined by challenges. Challenges arising from all misfortunes and failures.” Getting over one disappointment gives you a sense of pride and fulfilled determination. Awoken to the power and the technologies is a whole different story which only diminishes everything into the most demeaning of realities. These types of realities full of deceit, personally I would not condone on a robot or animal species.

Other reasons/excuses using century old myths, spirituality, sins of the father, racism, the scapegoat for evil all seem a bit scapegoat and only just that, excuses. I can choose to believe one or the other but to fully believe the multitude of reasons leaves me only empty. After six years the true why question remains unanswered and with this website intention, may it hold a connecting key as I know there are others. I hold hope that the fully monopolised internet allows for this backdoor site to reach “only” other variants. But truly sceptic to reach one other through the controlled place of the internet, I have my knowleagable absolute doubts. Join, make contact, and write a response. Respond with something that says hi, I am a variant and write something!

or maybe not