“The portals are everywhere. And they lead to other Earths…right beside this one.”


At first, I thought, when I went to sleep at night, someone came in to the house to change the whole thing, and that it was some kind of test, and the point of my day was to get back to the one I liked. The one from the day before. Or the one I started at — actually, I don’t know which one I started at now, it’s been so long that I have been doing this…I keep losing track.

There are millions and millions I suppose, I think they are manifested from what you are inside. I mean there was more than one of them that you could like or dislike…dread, joy in, or spend a lifetime in if you wanted too. They weren’t all strange or imperfect in some way. But some were, very, very bizarre, nightmarish, and dangerous. And all that time you spent there…ominous sometimes. Like you had been there a number of times before, but in different versions. Predicting a future state, sometimes they were, a future state, dates and time change. A possible future state. I think, it depended on what I was thinking about at the time.

I was married in one them and find that, my wife was in a number of worlds all with different characteristics depending who I was within them. She did not know this. But she was characteristic of the world I was in at that present moment. Sometimes I hater her. And, I had to be careful of friendships, I was getting quite tore up emotionally, because I would gain an attachment to someone and depending on the world, I was generally powerless to help them escape it, if it was extreme — and some were extreme, post nuclear, warring, affected by a solar system in chaos.

One was a frozen ice-age world, struggle and hunger drove many to cannibalism and terrible acts of human depredation. I had a rough time at these contrasting changes.

I know. I’m being rather confusing, vague maybe, in this start and a bit ambiguous but this is difficult to explain to you. Can you understand that? Without sounding crazy I have a tough time wrapping words around it. It’s…difficult for me to even think about, I really don’t have an adequate vocabulary to explain some things. That I saw…These are sometimes, many times outside the parameters of this…this! Right here right in front of you!

Imagine looking on this screen, like your doing right now, and all the letters are different, strange shapes, like hieroglyphics, some strange language, colors that are beyond you…just a bunch of marks all consistent in shape and color like this type, a language but not your language or any language you have known. Or the monitor is round. And someone comes into the room, and strange sounds are coming out their of mouth as they speak and then they walk up a wall, and walk across the ceiling and back down again, open the door and leave the room.

This is a sort of metaphor to accentuate the importance of what I talking about here. Has it been that bizarre, I haven’t experienced it, yet…

I began to presume, there were millions if not billions of versions, eventually.

All juggling on a dependency of me.

I am always finding new ones, and at some point, I… I sometimes am afraid of that potential, I still have a fear of entering one and never being able to leave it, to be stuck there in some madness. Time was never a constant. But I always find a way out, sometimes its easy, other times it is — I think, when I have completed something, I leave. A task, or reaching someone within the reality that I need to speak too or talk about its absurdity, and that’s a two way street, the minute you think it’s about them it turns on you. It is a very strange reality to live in.

Do you experience these things? Even in the least of what I am expressing here? Are you aware? Can you understand what I am getting after.

20180502_163508Some come to me with the slightest of differences. The smallest of things. I became greatly focused on this for quite a long time as I grew up. For instance, the color red was missing in one, and replaced with another color that, I had never seen before. And have never seen it since. I was the only one that was noticing that — I got myself in a lot of trouble trying to explain that concept. I know what red is, and it was not present anywhere I looked. I cut my hand and what oozed and slipped out was not red blood, it was, buzzing sound!

Do you know how hard it is to explain the color red, to someone who has not seen it before? These are assumption we make because, we except such things as normal you know…never questioning, just excepting…we learn a thing and eventually it becomes deeply ingrained, a terrible habit. But they are not habits, unless you have context that you have lived them in. I know? I am probably confusing you.

I mean the color red, it is, in a sunset, stop signs, street lights, its taken for granted. It is the very blood in your veins. Its a dangerous color. It has a taste in strawberries and good wine. There’s more to it than you think.  I was in a world were it did not exist! Anywhere! And believe me I searched.

Think about it for just a few minutes… And don’t ask me what the replacement color was, it just wasn’t there for me…I have no words for it…it was, another concept, color. And no one knew it name. Or I was not understanding.

And it would set up some strange emotion when I would see it, it became hypnotic if I allowed it. I had very lucid thoughts about it when I would see it, it triggered something in me that I have not experienced since that time. A deeper understanding of my existence. It was not red, experiences, different experiences. I can’t find words for it. The vocabulary problem you see? I have no context for it, no history of it and we relate so many things to the color red. It presumed.

When it is gone, and because my brain was not used to it — seeing it, the other thing, it kept popping up, like someone was yelling at me. Thoughts became cluttered up and made no sense, I was losing a sense of myself. I had to leave, to find a way out! My head would not let go of it, and the distraction was unbearable like it was a foul smell, that followed me, a loud constant buzzing noise. And I shouldn’t get started on that line of thought. I’ll remember it.

I was getting physically nauseous, sick from it, and started wearing colored glasses and drawing the shades to confront it and survive it.

There was a portal, that leads to one world, where, everyone liked me, and they love me. They are always doing little things for me, giving me items, gifts. Very sweet actually. Or they would be asking me to go along on unusual and wonderful experiences with them. Everyone of importance, does this, it got to the point that they would travel to my door to see me. It actually became annoying and clawing in the end, it would not stop no matter how many times I told people to not do this anymore, that it was making me uncomfortable…people I felt were always watching me. I became quite paranoid.

I would go out into public places, stroll along and people would run up to me. I could see others watching, and waiting for me to speak to them, anticipating. They would make such fools of themselves, I hated it. I was always trying to get away, escape, hide; duck in somewhere — disguise myself, they would see right through it. They knew it was me. Behind those masks, and sunglasses and hats. I did not for the life of me know how they did this. I went to great expense buying sophisticated disguises. I was there for a while and it became a matter of principal and eventually it became some some kind of weird game. I had to simply fool them once. It never happened and I left, never to return. I do not know how or why I left. I just finally decided and found myself in another place. But it doesn’t always happen, that way. Sometimes I feel trapped.

In one of the worlds, I am hunted down, for doing something, I don’t know what it is that I did. But I am tracked and chased mercilessly, and then I escape their clutches. And I always seem to be on the run and am able to escape in that one. I am chased again and harassed constantly. I think the point is, being chased. I think it’s about, terror.

I am trying to get to a point here. In describing theses things to you. In another one, quite perplexing; it was the same reality, the only difference was, a small dark mole about the size of the head of a straight pin, slightly bigger, to the right of the mouth about an inch and a half, and down about an inch towards the center of the chin — everyone had it on their face, except me. That world was a perfectly normal reality, rain, sun and the moon, people going to work; my life exactly as it is, toast was toast just like this one.

They did not notice they had it; the mole, I had thought. They never realized it at all. They hadn’t even taken it for granted I’d guessed, I presumed it was because they couldn’t see it anymore, had never seen it. But I could see it. Plain as day. There it was on everybody’s face, to the right and down, exact same place. It was the only thing I thought about there. That mole. I looked in the mirror, couldn’t find it on my face. I would talk to others about it, subtly, I would find a way to ask them if they could see it, I thought it might be possible that only I was seeing it. And I was. And that was the point that I was, the only one seeing it. It was worlds like this that gained my interest as to why this was happening. You must understand and I am speaking openly here but, I had to stop.

I wouldn’t stop talking about these experiences, and ended up some whacky places in a straight jacket in a room with rubber wallpaper. And then I would go to sleep. And wake up in another and a new reality.

It was worlds like this that made me start to wonder. Because I have always been alone you see. I like it that way. It took me a few years to figure it all out. That these are portals…these are holes in reality. There are duplicates with just the slightest of variance. And this led me to the very nature of existence and the power of my own imagination — I thought I was crazy. Hallucinating, and I have, been told that.

I stopped mentioning these things that I had noticed when I was a child. Or maybe I wasn’t!

It got me in a lot of trouble. I had to be very discreet in querying things that were different, because on many occasions, it changed from second to second in the beginning. It would upset the ones that took care of me, the ones that loved me or had authority over me; my family and loved ones — only adults seemed to be bothered by it, children never questioned it when I told them about these things. Some children, would shun me. Other times I showed up in places, and was not known, and that can be painful.

But, tell an adult and I would quickly be raced off to see another adult who was expert in such things. Strangely ‘they’ couldn’t understand the dam portals either.

So I decided not to tell anyone about them ever again. Until now. And I have lived that way ever since. Why am I telling you this? Because I discovered something about imagination and reality. And I’m hoping you will understand it.

I notice now that as I get older that I can manipulate which ones I wake up in, and sometimes, if I am not completely paying attention I wake up inside one that, I have totally forgotten I created during a night of dreaming. And then I notice something throughout that day that brings me back to the dream, the night before and I realize the portal was opened in the dream and I entered it then, and now I am truly manufacturing them..

In some way, I have imagined an answer to a question, or some profound thought I had been mulling over for some time, and there it would be, a portal, a sort of visual answer, lived out. I have sometimes played with multiple answers, just to see the what the outcome would be. I have played with physics of it, I have played with shapes; the size, time, gravity. It is endless the possibilities. All these doppelgängers. These possibilities of me for the choosing.

Worlds were we are very, very large. Worlds were everything is versions of physical perfection, and you can’t believe how much of a hell that can be…

Lately, I have gone back to some that I lived in for while, weeks or months and correcting some of my, how should I call it…my, malfeasance, as I was a power figure in those. Sometimes I took control of them in past times…I was young then, consumed with youth and my own ego and sought the wrong type of power and control.

Yes, in some I took control when I shouldn’t have; let’s leave it at that.

I think that I have discovered something that only I am aware of, or that only I can do…and possibly everyone else can do it, but they don’t know that yet…I have thought that maybe I am the only one in this, and these people I meet are not real, I mean not really real.

Maybe they are real, and they have not learned to do what I do quite.. quite well now. I know they don’t know what I talking about. So I never discuss it, except for now. And I have a reason to tell you.

And so now I move from one to the other, sometimes back, sometimes forward. Sometimes I have gone back to childhood portals to experience a specific day, that I remembered, and relive it correcting what I think is wrong. And I am always the actor for the part. But even that is useless, so I revel where I am clear, and young and fresh, a child, and new, and in the Spring sun and happy. Lusting after my life. It refreshes me when I get tired.

I am getting old now. Will I keep choosing the ones were I am younger. I have a tendency to forget a lot. I am not sure how old I am anymore? I not sure how long I have done this…maybe, I have always been doing it. Maybe, I will always be doing this. But it’s only limited I have come to understand, by what I can imagine and dream. It is endless really, so one gets physically tired after a while.

I am writing this because I am thinking off stopping, and staying within this one until I solve it…

But something is a miss here. It was a reasonable place, I liked it and found interesting things to do, I am an artist and so I write now, and paint and draw memories of where I have been, other worlds, greater or lesser.

But this place has changed very fast, very very fast. The people where content and free spirits, creative, loving and thriving for life, I liked that and then someone announced that there was virus killing people. I became interested in this because I could not understand what they were talking about. A virus?

News was everywhere about the virus, they started counting the infected and the dead, it was everything and everyone. Masks were worn by people in the streets, businesses were closed down and people lost their livelihood and individualism, they became afraid, terrified. And this only added to the fear and more rules and more isolation. It happened so quickly, reports of thousands dead and soon that became 100’s of thousands. Children were greatly affected, and stopped speaking; families were affected and torn apart, communities at each other, and this lead to more rules and laws and the whole society, the very civilization questioned who or what should survive.

The old were locked away and many died of fear; the treatment of the virus. The young stopped playing and were placed inside clear Plexiglas cubicles, and drawn circles on the floor to sit in.

Vaccinations became mandatory a must and people wanted them because of the reports and the nature of how the virus was understood, it kept changing and evolving they said; each step creating more fear and terror. Life has become unbearable, I have to get out of it…but I started to notice something that rang very clear in my mind.

There was no deaths, from the virus itself — people die from many causes, old age and sicknesses, that we suffer as humans anyway. It all appeared to me as greed and malice, poverty and neglect. Because of ill knowledge of what life is. The whole thing became theater, an act, and everyone knew it was bullshit but played along. Although some some were and are maniacs.

The hospitals were empty, the virus was called a pandemic affecting the whole world. But there was no bodies, no autopsies, no coughing and hacking humans walking countless streets. The reality had split and there was those who believed and those who did not believe and they raged against each other. It became a polarity of politics. The virus it seemed was a delusion, of their minds, like some kind of weird meme and you could not convince those who believed of the real truth of the matter. Time has gone on, the battle for the mind took on a whole new light and little by little more and more were lost to the…virus?

I have stayed and moved around trying to find the truth about this thing. Everyone had a story to tell, but none could tell you of someone who died of the virus or even had the virus found inside their bodies. No proof of what was contended.

Colds and the seasonal flu were just simply that. But people stopped having those, and only the virus remained.

It took on a whole new position the longer that I stayed. They’ve voted in leaders according to there pious beliefs of this unknown and of the vaccines and the virus itself. It is almost as if it became like a deity that they have started to worship and those that caught illness where branded as bad and it was justified in their illness and sometimes death as the condition of the virus took over all things.

But all through this, no stacks of bodies in streets or hospitals, vast vaccination programs where just that, and the societies has obeyed for fear of the secret police who checked on these things, and each and every individual has become a possible snitch gaining points in the turning in of ones neighbors or friends. Hundreds of millions are now locked down it seems permanently.

I have become discouraged and can no longer find anyone who would listen to me, and so I leaving them to their demise.

It sad really how this delusion has taken hold, this virus of the minds.

But I told you all this as a reminder, and as a farewell and hope for you.

I am leaving and I will not return here. There is another reality, were people smile and talk to each other and throw these facts of life off as day to day living. Where dreams become art, and sun shine because it should, and the rain always feels like spring, and every breathe is the first.