I am not perfect.
I am Human.
The course of my life was prophesied by the mother-in-law of my dearest childhood 
friend some forty years ago. Everything she had predicted has occurred in stark reality. But it was a plan. A master plan. For details, I sought out other spiritualists, psychics, tarot readers, and astrologers. I currently employ these tremendously gifted men and women across our tiny globe. They reside in England, France, and America. And the oddest part of their valued insight all pointed at one thing: Spiritual Transformation.
What is Spiritual Transformation? Try Googling it. What you’ll discover is that it’s a phenomenon that is, in a word, Heavenly. But it is not for the faint of heart. It is a very, very long process which spans the millennia. It is nothing to attain. No matter how much one can wish for it, it, this transformation, is a gift of the Higher Self.
Every Human on earth has a Higher Self. This Higher Self is the entity to which you pray. Some may call it God, others may call it conscience. But the identifier is the least 
important. It is, above all else, you. You as part of the Great Divine.
When I meditated I often had conversations with my Higher Self. I heard answers. I heard insights. I could answer peoples questions about their worldly lives. I helped people that sought my insight to navigate their troubling worlds. And I did so out of humility. Out of compassion for a very troubled, pervasive Human condition. A pervasive Human condition which has devolved from its true form. There was a master plan for Humanity which was side stepped when Humanity created two distinct distractions. Humanity constructed two masters: Time and Money.
These two masters have been invented. Invented by men to put a value on Human Life. 
In the Divine Expression of Humanity, there is equality. We’re all cut from the same cloth. But greed and only greed has detoured us from the Divine Expression. We’ve been devalued. Time, a horrible construct has caused Humanity to be enslaved. And money? Money is now the ugliest form of servitude. I challenge everyone to argue this point: “What freedom in life do you really have when others place time and money ahead of any other?”
I have been blessed with Enlightenment. Enlightenment is not, I repeat, is not a romantic ideal. It is nakedness. Yes, I feel a very distinctive comfort. But I also feel Humanity’s pain and suffering, and sometimes it can be so painful that I’d gladly exchange this Enlightenment to simply escape. But I cannot. The die has been cast.
Prior to my Spiritual Transformation, Wisdom told me through meditation, that I would eventually land upon a fire in my soul. This fire would provide all the questions and all
the answers to the Human condition: Life, Peace, Truth, Courage, Clarity, and Humility. And, it asked, did I know what I’d achieve when I received all the questions and all the answers? I didn’t. It would be Peace.
And so I have been charged to communicate the tenets of the Human Expression to as many people as I can. To assist them in righting the wrongs. To assure every person that there is a grander plan. To shed light on a darkened world. And too, above all else, continue to absorb the pain and suffering of mankind. Not to better my Self, but to provide an avenue of light.
And sometimes, when I’m stumbling through the darkened rooms of my soul, I turn to others that can see in my own darkness.
building to the tensing and releasing of pleasure. And while my flesh is satisfied, I know that there are precious moments following. It is in these moments, post coitus, that I discover who we are in our purest forms.
I’ve been living in Paris for almost a week. “Living in,” was a distinction pointed out by my Parisian last evening over dinner.
said to me last night while our entree plates were cleared, “It’s almost as though you’ve been here for longer than a week.” And then, while looking down at his lap, he admitted, “I’m going to miss you terribly when you leave.”
is my garden; this dining room is my dining room; the hotel staff greet me every morning and evening as Mr. Didrickson; after you leave for work, they know that I retire to the garden for a cigar, and they’ll bring me two triple espressos while I ruminate about my afternoon’s writing; and they know that you and I dine every morning and evening. I’m treated as an expat writer, living in Paris, and enjoying the intimacies of a younger Parisian. And like all top-notch personal service, they are committed to Our happiness, which, by the way, is seen as natural and lovely.
profound depth of clarity as well as humility. Over the course of six years, I’d been prescribed by doctors copious amounts of amphetamines, opiates, and benzos. When I mean copious, I’m not kidding. 6 kilograms of amphetamines, 3 kilograms of opiates. I should have died from these lethal doses, but I muddled through unscathed. No damage to my brain, but my metaphorical heart was crushed. I’d become a monster. I was drooling on my self, lost interest in others, and ruined my 30-year relationship.
meditated the voice of wisdom told me to rid myself of these toxins. Without their removal, I wouldn’t gain clarity. And without clarity, I wouldn’t ever understand humility.
Whenever we deny ourselves the full embrace of these tenets, we deny our own existence. We deny ourselves our own humanity. Are these tenets difficult to accept? Yes. But once we surrender ourselves to these fundamental expressions of our humanity, the world, in its divine expression, provides for us the very fabric of Life.
incarcerated for two months as a severe manic. I’d been entombed in some of the most sadistic and disgusting psyche wards in Chicago. 4 psyche wards in 14 days. Some offered a bolted down cot, with no pillow, and a sheet which was tied down so I couldn’t strangle myself. I’d been locked away in some nursing homes which prevented me from wandering outside wrought iron fences. My former partner took out a restraining order against me after I’d tried to strangle him in an ER. I had no home, no address, nowhere to run from these oppressive places, so I turned to my imagination to escape.
thing which even smacked of normalcy. So I developed a relationship with Artem that I thought was real. I was so desperate that I didn’t know what else to do. I asked my Parisian over breakfast this morning, “Haven’t you been so desperate to free yourself from the bonds of personal anguish, that you’d believe in anything which provided the most ridiculous shred of hope?”
languidly stroked his chest hair, I allowed my fingers to trail down his belly to his button, I let my eyes wander through his eyes and I saw my own attractiveness there; I touched his arousal as though it were molten iron; I kissed his tender lips, letting our tongues dance with each other as though they’d known each other for lifetimes.
Yesterday and today I tried to distance myself from the two men which have burrowed into my soul. I lashed out in anger and in disbelief. And now I sit in my Parisian hotel room and wonder if I’ll ever enjoy their precious company again.
and felt every inch of his intoxicating flesh. Why then have they chosen to distance themselves from me? Have I become so needy? Needy isn’t sexy. Not even to me. Confidence is sexier. Confidence brings with it the ability to be alone, untethered, a freed balloon floating high above the city. Young men love balloons. They chase them. But no one loves pigeons. No one loves the pecking of pigeons for indistinguishable morsels of discarded bread.
So to the two most important men I know, know this: I want you in my life. But I don’t need you. I need to breathe. I need to live. But love? I want love. I want men. And if this all sounds too needy know one thing: I was born into this life to live. I have lived before you and I will live after you. You’re but a wayside I’ve chosen to steer into. And you can join me on my journey if you so desire. But you’re free my darlings. Free to climb out of my car whenever we no longer serve us.
