Tag: stoned writing

Thoughts.

I told myself I wouldn’t write while stoned and sleep deprived.
But I also said I’d portray an accurate representation of myself, so fuck it. No lies.
I’ve been told I’m ‘too sensitive’.
What is being too sensitive?

Too sensitive is using marijuana everyday upon waking since 2014. An assault on the senses, waking up crushed by unseen forces, driven mad with restless leg syndrome, screaming, punching walls, throwing objects, breaking phones.

 A bloody terrible way to start the day!

Too sensitive is feeling the neighbors at breakfast, bickering, pulling down the driveway, late to work. Too sensitive is feeling the dog barking, the neighbor cutting the grass, the children heading to the pond five minutes down the road. Too sensitive is feeling I-80 and White Haven ten minutes away. Too sensitive is waking up three to four times a night, and using a combination of cannabis and masturbation to achieve sleep. Meditation. Too sensitive is dropping objects because “bad vibrations need released”, maybe somebody told a lie, maybe a dark personality entered the room, who knows but better pay attention.
Too sensitive is feeling the deer maneuver the backyard, the bees pollinating flowers, the spiders catching prey. Too sensitive is feeling the music flush your veins and ignite your hair like a line of cocaine. 

A testament to my brainwashing I suppose.
I did not realize I was an intuitive until roughly six months into modern psychoanalysis, awoken by another intuitive, Dr. Anthony Tereo, student of Hyman Spotnitz— intuitive. Until then I was still suppressed and living a lie thanks to my mother, who intentionally subverted any awakening to disguise her own sociopathy. What happens when an empath understands their gift of intuitive feeling, what does it mean for the narcissist?
Predators don’t appreciate becoming prey. An observation. It’s their forest.

Too sensitive is feeling others thinking about you, reading your social media posts, reaching for your phone to respond to a text that hasn’t arrived yet. Too sensitive is crashing your car because you “feel something coming”, so you take the longer way home thus getting rear ended and completing your prediction — a feedback loop. “Would you have knocked over the vase if I hadn’t said anything”: The classic quote from the The Matrix, the scene with the Oracle. 

Too sensitive is dreaming of cities burning before covid, dry heaving for months before the world shut down and losing sleep in the process.

Being intuitive is closely related to sleep. Connected to the ether, recharged, with a full eight plus hours of sleep, the intuitive is joyful. Disconnected: exhausted, burnt out and the experience is less desirable, if not unpleasant, suicidal.
Too sensitive is feeling tomorrow when your head touches the pillow. 

Too sensitive is feeling the electromagnetic field on every person, place, thing.
Too sensitive is feeling where people are going when they leave, typically future conflicts.

Too sensitive is not being able to work a standard nine to five, because you never know what predictions will keep you awake at night. It’s being forced from workplace after workplace because your managers can’t quite put a finger on what’s happening, but they know something is happening. Too sensitive is feeling the psychic backlash from everybody wishing you “worked a normal job like them”. 

Too sensitive is breaking your ankle in the Franklin Institute’s nostalgic heart display, because it’s holding too many vibrations in such a cramped space. Too sensitive is having ankle problems for the rest of your life, along with degenerate disc disease in your neck from pressures and density of the world. I used to have my younger brother walk on my back to relieve pressure, or I’d neurotically crack my back on school chairs for relief.

Memories of neck kinks preventing me from school as early as pre-school.

Too sensitive was having Brendan Murphy, Melissa Roller, and Abby Rigby send thoughts to my head causing me to laugh out loud in the middle of class. Removed by Ms. Cooper, my eighth grade English teacher who asked if I was “autistic or something”, who then proceeded to gaslight me into feeling terrible about my gift, a gift predominately related to English, observations and writing abilities. Hmmm… I wonder why I hate writing so much… The same situation occurred in Mr. Twiss’s math class, except the teacher would give me detentions, forcing me to stay after class so he could use my aura like a battery. I imagine he wasn’t having a great time living alone, raising two adopted African children consumed by lives of crime. My mother confronted the teacher and I never received detentions again.

My mother was used to guarding me from people. She wouldn’t let anybody close or anybody near who might awaken my abilities. Preferring I never build a close relationship with my drum instructor who invited me to drum recitals, enrolling me for sports instead of art/music classes, never introducing me to the piano when I sat playing keys all day; she intentionally subverted any understanding of myself. What would happen if Nick discovered he had psychic powers? What was being threatened?

Everything. Psychic powers threaten everything in the world of the sociopath— the narcissist. Intuition channels truth and the narcissist is desperately trying to erase any memory or acknowledgment that truth exists. They need lies to build illusions, to assume power and trap their subservients. The narcissist is consumed by anger, hatred, fear, and paranoia- primary lesser worth. A narcissist knows they are a narcissist.

I’ll never forget being under the influence of LSD with my longtime ex-girlfriend. A moment of peace, interrupted by a mean, rage full comment from my girlfriend who shortly apologized. Confused yet not surprised because of this regular occurrence, I asked “was this your borderline personality disorder,” to which wish she responded “No, this is something else.” They know they are narcissists, which is why so many of them run from me. The predator doesn’t want to become prey, and I see them, boy do I see them. They’re fucking everywhere, in case you didn’t know. Ever wonder why things are so shitty: crime, greed, corruption, violence, are all attributed to the narcissism pandemic. A lot of narcissists hate interacting with an intuitive, at risk of exposure, however others may become attracted, like moths to a flame.

The most powerful weapon in my arsenal is cognitive dissonance.

Laugh hard, laugh loud, and smile bright— I promise the narcissism will expose itself. Whether you meet direct aggression from the narcissist who’s unable to feel these transcendental emotions, or the codependent who’s involved with somebody unable to express joy, happiness, and inspiration, resistance is to be expected from somebody with narcissism in their life. A reflection of the narcissist’s unhealed traits, and a reflection of your inner work.

The greater the unconscious healing, the greater the resonance with intuition, the greater the capacity for love and joy. What happen’s when you uplift your vibration?

I think “too sensitive” is a shitty usage of words to express traits that don’t accommodate our backwards, narcissistic society. Sensitive is what my sociopathic grandmother said when mumbling under her breath about my feeling ability, sensitive is a label my parents garnered to excuse any accountability for their selfish acts,  sensitive is gaslighting— an attempt to disenfranchise somebody’s perception of the world.

Intuition is about finding your place in the world, just like anything else.
And finding your place in the world is about doing what’s best for you, despite the reactions and opinions of others. Something I’m still learning as a people pleaser.
Something I’m learning while living somewhere that isn’t right for me.

Life’s too short to live somebody else’s life— to live in fear.

Who are you?