The first casualty of a communist takeover are dreamers

Higher Ground

The Dream Within

I saw on Reddit someone crying that “Entrepreneurs dreams are dying left, right and centre!” Figured I’d pen down some thoughts! Cause it did hit a nerve. It hit home.

The first casualty of war is truth, or so said Oscar-Something. But the first casualty of a communist takeover are dreamers and go-getters.

Suddenly, we can’t fly to a remote destination on a whim. We can’t build a pub or a restaurant –for if it might get closed by a totalitarian government, so why bother?– and we can’t conjure randomness and spontaneity (the mark of an entrepreneur) to this world anymore. It’s over. Or is it?

Dreams of joining the military are over: for what reasonable men would want to be submitted to a future mandatory –experimental– vaccine? Or limiting freedom upon good people and coercing them under house-arrest?

Dreams of travelling the world in a Jeep is over, for me anyway. I can’t see the world re-opens and not asking for a vaccine passport.

There is no hope…!

Yet…

As I learnt on a beach in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, back in 2018…

There is only hope.

There is only hope.

That’s all there is.

You see, we can always live a life of pretence where the walls of our imagination get higher than what’s reasonable (most people call those things: “dreams”), but at the end of the day, we’re bound to what’s feasible. Anything is per se, but there’s always a cost. And some costs are deemed too high. We often refer to dreams being impossible to do in regard to their cost.

For many of my readers, you are experimenting a lockdown, stuck in a small town, confined to your apartment, for the next 6 months... Your sanity will die, and so your dreams. Hold the line. You don’t have to. But since that’s the intended goal of the Power That Be –make you sick, drunk, high and forget reality– not giving up an inch is the best revenge.

I was telling a reader stuck in one of the craziest places on Earth –Italy– to try to hold her sanity till the next meal. À la Navy SEAL’s hell week. It sucks, everything sucks, and the trick, or so it is said, is to simply hold on to the next meal. Just to make it to the next meal. No matter the pain… the wetness… the cold… you can make it to the next meal. And it is never more than 5 hours away.

I tried this tactic in a 10 days long silent meditation (called Vipassana). It sucks, was bored after day 2 (coming from a period of isolation in he Yukon where my cabin was my spiritual retreat center for years…) but I hold the line thinking about the next meal. Simply the next meal.

And maybe if dreams seem impossible in 2020/2021, hold to the next small feat. Hold to the next meal, to the next little thing you can do.

This WILL sucks. Agenda 21 is terrible. Simply try to survive 2021 at all cost, at whatever cost. Go year per year till 2030. Very few of us will be here in 2030 (Apophis 2029?). Yet, very few of us were HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. We weren’t. Then we were. We should not be. But we are. We should not exist. But here we are. There should be no dreams, no hope, no humanity, no sun and no moon, but we are. It is.

Switch your mind’s program. Embrace the fact that you should not be, but that you are. Then if tomorrow is bestowed to you as a precious gift, good.

One more morrow to carve a burrow deep enough to escape the wave of madness about to roll upon humanity.
To dig a burrow to escape… or to be a lighthouse on the higher spiritual ground to shine the divine spark that was bestowed to you… choose who you want to be, and then be it.

Fuck the rest! Dream that humanity still a thing in 2050. That’s a helluva dream. Dream that kids will be able to give hugs to each other, and live an unplugged life. Dream that we remember who we are. We are a species experimenting amnesia every 200 years.

The Titanic was sinking, but that’s what makes the journey exciting, isn’t? Hell yeah.
Choose what you want to be doing as it sinks.

The Power That Be wants you to believe that you are on the ship.
But you aren’t. You aren’t on the ship. You don’t have to.
Choose where you want to be as it sinks.

On it, or elsewhere. Every possibility are open to us, yet we choose sufferings, don’t we?

Hold to the next meal. Go from there.

Out.

JP