“What did you come in for?” he asked me as he sat there looking down.
“I just came in for a drink and a magazine,” I said, feeling very scared, turning my head in anticipation of any punches that would rain down.
I checked my gun again and pushed open the door that had its own unique bell attached to it. It rang innocently. I made my way to the magazines, whilst checking every aisle of the little shop for this person who had left their engine running. I couldn’t see them. I could only see the shopkeeper standing behind the counter. A small man, he looked like an old Thai boxer. He looked a bit odd, just standing there, still, looking straight ahead. I thought he might have been half-asleep seeing as it was so late, but as I focused in on his face, his eyes were looking directly into mine. And they were wide. Wider than they should have been. His mouth looked tense, like he was under some sort of threat and hoping I could be his salvation. He had the familiar look of fear that I had seen in shopkeepers’ faces over recent weeks.
My heart was beating faster than usual. I couldn’t help it. I still, after four times of doing this, could not control my own bloody nerves. The more I argued with them, the harder they seemed to grip me, until I could feel the muscles in my arms quivering as I clung to the steering wheel.
I was becoming fed up of struggling. I realised on that bed that I had been struggling my whole life. When I was born I was struggling to stay in, to stay in the comfort of that womb that protected me from the world, and once I was forced to leave, there were responsibilities I had to take on.
“I must find it, Dad, I must.”
“Ok then, we will look some more.”
“It must be here somewhere, Dad, it must.”
“Ok then, we will keep looking.”
By Dr. Bernard J. Hoothfellow
I was in a job that I did not like. The mornings were like a hell. I remembered a time when I was enthusiastic about work, when I would jump out of bed, ready to fly in to another day in the lab, working towards what I thought was some great new cure for some terrible disease that was afflicting my species.
But as time went on, I became skeptical. The company I was working for was not as interested in health as I once thought. They manufactured drugs for sale all over the world, selling to governments and healthcare systems that would take people in who could not figure out for themselves what was causing their own diseases. Sometimes their drugs worked, oftentimes they didn’t, or the drugs got rid of a few symptoms, but gave you a whole new load of side-effects which would make you feel even worse than before you started taking the damn things.
Often we can feel trapped in thoughts, trapped in identity, trapped in conditioning. It can seem as if we are trapped in the cage of our own minds. This book points you out of this, to show you that both the cage and the person who feels trapped in it, are not real.
This book also looks at some of the insane ways we have been taught to approach life and to function in the world, and how to be free of these conditioned behaviours.
The content within each chapter is split into passages, each passage being a pointer in itself. You may feel inclined to only read a single passage, and pause to allow time for the words to sink in before moving on.
Three young children were running through the forest. They were playing. They had given Richard a head start, and the other two, Amanda and Greg, had to chase him down.
The forest looked like a place of pure magic. The beams of light from the sun were penetrating down through the trees on to the forest floor, and high above the children the tops of the trees were gently swaying in the wind, and their leaves seemed to dance and rustle from far overhead. It was quiet, other than the distant rustling, and the giggles and occasional shouts of the children who were running along the ground.
Forget about what happened.
If it hurts, why keep it?
To keep you safe?
To stop it happening again?
To enjoy the pain?
Jerry was a strange boy, no one could understand him. His parents had known there was something wrong with him from a young age. He was seventeen now, and some people were still uncomfortable with it.