Garages and Ghosts

So a friend sits down next to me and says "I didn't know you parked in front of  Adam's garage?  He looks at me in disgust.  I said "yes I told you that...I was in another world." I ask him a question and he starts talking to someone else.  This was tonight and that incident was nearly two months ago.  I got up and left. He wouldn't talk to me. I get this icky feeling inside that there are some forces of spiritual darkness that want me under.  I feel it in my bones that I am a gift of light and maybe the one I believe brought me to light?  Well maybe he is dark.  Maybe he wants me put away to never be heard from again?  The spiritual warfare of believing Adam's good not bad has always been there.  I still want to believe his good.  But no one will believe my psychosis on the stand.  It is only God that knows my entire truth and I can only tell the parts I can remember and there is so much more to my psychosis.

But that's just it.  Its called a psychosis...its called false beliefs.  It would be saying that everything I have experienced in learning my soul is untrue, and accepting the counterfeit of admitting I am so wrong, and the rest of the realities experienced are the only "correct" realities.  And I could do that.  I could about face and deny all that is me and say that everything I believe is a lie. And if I do not bend on this matter, I wonder how far one would go to torture me for it?

I am saying that just because the majority of the population cannot experience what I experience that I am "sick." It is justification to separate me from the rest of society because of my beliefs.

The stakes are high!
Betray me Betrayu?
Break my wings, break these chances.
The knife is the love is the knife.
The love is the enemy is the love.
Caught up in a dream you are cast in stone...
Im not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid.
I am afraid.
Its real over here.  I said over here it is REAL...
Other dimensions, other fortresses, other purposes.
And your power, as in, you could bind me to a cell.
Call me treason, call me witch.
I fear you and I love you, but its not real to all.
Some charade of diligence and life expectancy,
and being someone greater.
And alone at night I cry "why this fate?'
Why must the one I love, hate?


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