It seems to me that nobody understands how to treat a Woman in labor. Are we still so far degenerate in our progress of evolution that we are unable to see the reflection and apply it to what feels like ever-continuing levels of gestation? It would seem so based on the absurdity of my journey. Here’s a snippet from the third, and apparently, final volume of my memoir.

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As my spiritual journey progressed, disappointment, loneliness, and wild lucid nightmares covered my existence in turmoil. I felt like everything was spinning back, connecting the pieces of me as if I had originated them. Or maybe I ran away from them because the visions, drightmares (lucid dreams that suck), and thoughts were either horrifying or laborious drudgery; some drightmares were both.

I am tired of labor and in case you have no common sense, NO WOMAN CAN BE IN LABOR FOREVER! Eventually, she will die and so might the unborn children – again a reflection of birth. (And, here, I mean die and not rise again).

A little more from the preface of Volume 3:

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I won’t bore you in the preface with the complexities my mind has labored over trying to understand time, space, and what feels like a never-ending journey with delinquent children playing a game from the past. The same game from which I ran. Much of my rant reflects the tragic history we ran away from, where life was used as a game by “gods in the heavens” that reduced their neighbors and even their children purely for entertainment. A game that I believe we inverted to use as a foundational design to escape and give birth to a new and better future. In several blog posts on my website, I reveal that I discerned the construct we are in reflects human procreation and birth. 

NEWSFLASH: This is NOT A GAME! It’s labor and delivery. And because so many of you are busy playing a game, I am unnecessarily yelling at my sister who isn’t even playing the game, when I should be yelling at the idiots engaged in a game that I ran away from. Another snippet from the preface of Volume 3:

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And based on that piece of information, I find anyone continuing to use human life to play a game, offensive. We are not playing a game! What’s happening is gestation, labor, and delivery. But for those who want to play games, I have one for you. Let’s start with a round of hangman. Who am I?
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The difference is that my games SOLVE problems rather than create them. Do onto others as you would have done to yourself.  So, you wanna play a game of life?  When copyright law is invoked, and the last hand is played, I will stretch my arms so far that I’ll have more chips piled in front of me than anyone at the table; I’m talking about whatever medium is used for the game you’re playing.  I don’t care if it’s poker chips, money, tortilla chips, or potato chips unless it’s the Cape Cod Salt and Vinegar chips or the lime tortilla chips because those are tasty. Once the winnings are in my hands, I will re-scatter what I have collected however I damn well please!

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In Closing out today’s rant: We are one species sitting on ONE FOUNDATION OF LOVE.

EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT THE APPLE NEVER FALLS FAR FROM THE TREE. SO LET’S HOPE THIS IS NOT MY END STATE BECAUSE THEN OUR ESCAPE PLAN WAS ALL IN VANE.

p.s. – I’m not playing a game with children’s lives. This MOTHER WOULD NEVER DO THAT. So the statement in the book is for the idiots that wish to continue playing games instead of being kind and generous to their brothers and sisters. So the challenge to play a game was unilateral, not bilateral. Count me out of disgraceful behavior, but do consider that a Woman in labor should be cared for and comforted, as it has a direct impact on the unborn child or children.

Spinning Reflection Photo by Harry Shelton on Unsplash

Chess Pieces Illustration by Eric Savage of Savage Creative

Degenerated and disposed Illustration by Eric Savage of Savage Creative