For those of you who thought this was going to be a pretty story, you’re about to witness a night to remember. As soon as we see through the mist we cannot unsee what we saw. A symbol, a message, or even a Pattern. Truth used to be the foundation of fiction and ancient fiction is the foundation of our present one. Sometimes we realize our eyes have fooled us and something made reality seem a bit prettier than it actually was. Is it the sweet words that penetrate our ears? Or the scent of flowery perfume reaching our nose? What about the influence of desire? Or perhaps the moment she first touches you softly and her hands move slowly over your skin is the moment you dropped your defences and became a prey instead of a predator. Every encounter ends with the same question; wil jou survive?

 There used to be a time when hardness build the foundation of our civilisation while softness gave it color. In this time our legends and myths were shaped. Two world kept carefully apart. Love was a matter of poetry, fighting a matter of heroism. We men knew our place in this world and had no other desire then to be the best in what we were. Through tales of our heroic deeds we spread wisdom amongst those who had no intention to sacrifice all things normal for a live filled with fear and bravery. Those days are gone now, and we hardly remember who we once were. Through denial we build a wall to shape our own reality into a more restricted one, were besides following the crowd no other option seems possible any longer. Those slipping out of it are forgotten, lost, or simply unfound. They constantly fight to survive, like we used to. The last of a noble race fighting against prosecution. The voice of the crowd is loud and multiple, but the voice of nature stands above all. It does not allow pity, the path we chose have consequences we shall have to bear. Sacrifices have to be made. The path of a warrior can be hard, but experiences toughen him. His identity alone makes him a target, meaning that every moment of peace is nothing more than a distraction. A weak spot of our desire for something that lies beyond the limits of our reach. Yet, the desire will always be there, waiting to be tempted to do it’s destructive work. For those of you who haven’t quite gotten it yet, this night will end badly. Nothing good is a guarantee for eternal goodness, we all change and so do experiences. The sun slowly rises above a distant forest as a man awakes alone in an old cabin made out of some rubble. His head feels like it has turned into stone and he can hardly move his body. Something must have happened last night, but he can hardly remember anything of it. His gear! It’s gone! The place where he left his bag and his weapons now painfully reminds him of the definition of emptiness, missing potential. He remembers the girl though, her sweet touch felt better than anything he felt in the last few years. He should have known better. What a way to start, by making a fool of himself. Perhaps we just wasn’t ready for this yet, it’s too late to step back now. Slowly Sativa rises and a nasty headache spreads between his eyes. His vision is still a bit blurry, must have been a strong sedative. Whatever it was, it was more than just alcohol. The cabin doesn’t look like it did yesterday, most of the items were moved away in a rush. He tries to stand up carefully. His legs still feel a bit numb and he looks as if he is just learning how to walk. He barely manages to walk outside before he collapses again. While hours pass our young traveller lies face down in the mud dreaming off a part of his life that is now nothing more than a vague memory, activated by his desire for things beyond his reach. It sounds sad, but don’t we all desire for things beyond our reach? The rich long for a normal live, the popular long for a bit of isolation and the misunderstood long for equals. What we rarely appreciate is what we have now and how far we have come. Even on a trail of dreams and miracles we can still desire for common things. Satisfaction is a lack of insight, just like perfection. There is always more to wish, more to want, more to learn and more to reach. Our young traveler wakes up a second time and the only thing he feels is rage, a strong emotion capable of keeping people up when they are about to fall down. His mind shuts down and instinct takes over, a well formed and shaped version of it. His green eyes scout the environment like a predator. Two deep tracks run into the forest in two ways, which way should he go? There has to be more detail. Tracks run deeper at one side, meaning it had a heavier load. Sounds plausible since she took his gear and some of the stuff from the cabin with her. How much time has passed? Probably at least twelve hours, meaning he has to hurry. In a few seconds he shuts down every process in his body that could waste energy, then he runs off in the direction she must have gone. His physical shape is hardly enough to keep up this pace, but he has no choice. Being in a strange world is one thing, but losing everything he has left is not an option. His hands inspect the pockets of his clothes while he tries to keep up the pace in the same rhythm. His knife is still there, that`s a good thing. Unfortunately not very impressive in a place where practically everyone probably carries a blade for self defence. After almost an hour of running through this dense unknown forest he takes a short break. His increased heartrate made sure the toxins are broken down a bit faster and the effects are slowly decreasing. He needs to take a drink though, his mouth feels dry and lots of body fluid has been lost through transpiration. The young hunter scouts the area for something which holds a lot of moist, digging a well would take too much time now. His focus rests on a young tree with a strain as thick as his wrists. Carefully he bends the young tree until the strain snaps with a cracking sound. With a few quick moves from his knife he carefully strips the bark and remaining twigs off of the tree and snaps it again. The result is a smooth stick which looks similar to the oakwood staff he lost. It’s not much, but a better weapon than a small knife. A small piece of the strain still stands as a reminder of our fallen tree. Sativa cuts a small hole in the middle of it about the size of a thumb. Slowly drops of liquid are transported from the roots upwards, filling the hole in the top of the strain as if it’s a cup. Using a tree like a well in this way is not as efficient as digging one, but it saves a lot of time.After a few minutes he sucks the moisture out of the cup. It’s nut much, but in situations like these every drop can be vital. A man needs a few bottles of water each day. One small zip might seem little, but taking one every hour would probably count up to a few bottles on a daily basis. Strategic thinking can be a life saver on many levels. Within a few minutes he`s on his way again through the dense forest. Hours pass by and not a single trace of civilisation. Wherever he is, things are very different from the world he’s born in and he was a fool to put his trust in the people here without knowing anything of the environment. Environments shape the personality of people and by scouting the lands a man can find out a lot about it’s inhabitants without any necessary interaction. By the time the sun starts fading away he reaches the last trees which mark the border between forest and plains. He decides to spend the night there. Sleeping out in the open can be dangerous when there is nothing to hide from the cold winds. Temperatures can drop radically and it’s easy to catch hypothermia. The best he can do for now is to gather a pile of leafs and bury himself in it. Starting a fire is not an option when there are so many potential enemies, they could spot him from a mile away. While he lies between the leafs shaking his thoughts slowly wander off. Dreams pass by. Not those filled with romance and happiness, but those filled with terror and destruction. Demons that keep haunting the young man as a reminder of what he left behind. “You cannot run from who you truly are”, a deep voice whispers right before he falls over the edge of a cliff into endless darkness.

I try to place myself in the same situation as the character in the story i write by reconstructing my own memories of similar situations. As the story unfolds i am slowly becoming more aware of the consequences of different types of situations, environments and interactions. The only downside is the rollercoaster of memories that keeps tearing my emotions from one direction into another bringing out all off the demons i carry inside of me. And there are so many demons, enough to provide a lifetime filled with struggle. How long these struggles last depend on how long we avoid the unavoidable. Tough decisions lead towards progress, but making tough decisions isn’t easy. I found that rage is just the kind of emotion powerful enough to motivate you in making tough decisions. Since most of my life has been a matter of making tough decisions i can probably state i am mostly build out of rage. It doesn’t sound pretty though co confess such things… But i guess i ain’t lost, i have had the privilege of experiencing the other side as well. Love as pure as love can be. It softens a man until his strength diminishes and sweet dreams are all he hears. But then the storm comes…
Fate whispers to the warrior, "You cannot withstand the storm", and the warrior whispers back "I am the storm".
And slowly the storm rises, turning an ordinary man into something else. Hard to describe what actually, maybe almost impossible to define. All i can do from now on is ask myself:”who am i?”. Unfortunately silence is all i get for an answer, emptiness in which i should have seen something. I am eager to call myself Avitas, the opposite of what i was, but i guess that`s not even close to the truth. I am not above and not below, but the sum of both. The miracle of one thing, unification of two opposites. In reality i have never hurt anyone on purpose, but in virtual reality i have been worse then you can imagine. An unstoppable creature feeding on fear and destruction. I was real good at being evil and learned everything there was to learn about the art of strategic planning and improvising under pressure. On large scale as well as in detail. A cunning adversary capable of destroying powerful enemies by only placing the right information on the right place and starting a destructive chain reaction. And then my reality changed from a peaceful organized life into a battlefield. Somehow a part of all the experience i gained in virtual reality changed my personality in real life. I started recognizing patterns of behavior and gaps in it which allow a person to manipulate the direction of flow, from positive into negative. I saw all the implemented strategies in our current society, the dominant behaviour and the pressure applied by mass opinion to shape us into a desired character. All i could do was look into the mirror and realize i had to become stronger in order to resist. The longer i stared the more emptiness i started recognizing in my own reflections. Not only on the outside, but also in behaviour and ways of thinking. Emptiness left behind by unused potential. All the things i did in my life became close to an obsession and filling up the emptiness of unused potential soon started to become another one. I can’t even explain the strange things i did in the past two years. I even searched for a perfect female reflection of my personality and found one. She teached me as much as she could learn from me and the energy exchange between us was huge, but i have become a very destructive man. I had to leave her behind at a certain point and i doubt i will ever see her back. Many have been left behind, even good friends i shared most of my life with. They won’t recognize me anymore if we ever meet again. Under pressure we either break or change, and the more pressure applied over a longer period of time the more we change. This story is a form of applied pressure to me as well. It determines my route and forced me to move on. It’s like a compass guiding me towards chapter twentyfour. I apologize for the long period of time it took me to complete this one, but i must confess i am very close to my breaking point. Severe mood swings combined with mental and physical exhaustion are really taking a toll on me. My weight is declining, my sleep is becoming short and irregular and i realize i am losing control of my life a bit. Whatever happens, i will continue to the end of this project. A personal transformation on all levels. Just to give you an idea of how much change that is, in the past two years i started training in fitness and kickboxing again, learned to fight with a bo staff and a katana and studied a vast majority of martial arts and their philosophy. I also studied multiple religions, multiple ancient philosophies and ancient myths and different area’s of science. I also had a complete exterior makeover in clothes and appearance and went through surgery and a dental sanitation. I improved my social skills, solved a lot of issues i still had with my past and determined a new direction for the future. I also wrote all the articles on this page and a lot of personal poetry which i will keep to myself. To be honest, i never wrote any articles in english before i started working on this page. I’m just an uneducated Dutchmen who has been labeled as unsuitable for any form of employment. Can you imagine how much that makes me laugh? It says a lot about the human ability to judge each other, it often fails terribly. Only those aware of that will see through the mist and start understanding that which lies hidden in the darkness. They should have never judged me, but they did and they all pay the price. I’ve heard a lot of complaints about the fact i haven’t done anything to correct their judgement, but why should i? I have been falsely judged by people my entire life, it’s actually pretty funny i managed to gain a stable income out of it. Just because you don’t understand the thing you see doesn’t mean it is any less than the things you do understand, it could be a lot more then you can comprehend. By the time you have read all twentyfour lessons and chapters you can be the judge. In the meantime i will move forward up a spiral of growing potential to become whatever i was destined to be.
“As within, so without. As the universe, so the soul. That which is above is like that which is below, to perform the miracles of one only thing”- Hermes Trismegistus.
This is the law of unification and division. The prima materia, or primary natural law. Everything around us plays its own role according to this law; it divides or unites, or shall be divided or united. A constant interaction like the swing of a pendulum. It operates in four directions bringing four patterns; creation or destruction, positive or negative. To most people this is only another insignificant phrase which they will never understand. If i would tell them they would probably call me insane, weird, crazy or anything similar. In fact, this is the most significant scientific theory ever made by mankind. I divided myself a long time ago into positive and negative and pushed the negative away in an alternative reality. It gave me the feeling i was in control, and i was. I just didn’t understand back then that i was only controlling half while the other half kept growing. I gave back all the positive interaction people gave me, but kept the negative reactions to myself and pushed it away. It kept coming back until i couldn’t push it away any longer. The pattern switched and i started pushing my positive reactions away. Negativity was the only interaction i gave since then. I became the man who i could always see in the mirror but who i could never learn to like. The story you read is the dreams of who i once was, written by the one i have become. Although i do not actually see any enemies i can sense their presence and i know how many there are. Do you know? You probably think you have very little enemies, but have you thought about that in a very deep way or is it just a quick conclusion based on what optical illusions tell you? Never trust your eyes, they have the power to fool the mind. If i count all those that hate me directly because of a negative interaction i could count hundreds, but if i also include those that don’t agree with my style of living i could probably count millions. If i would count the one’s that would probably hate me after interaction because they fear that which they don’t understand… Well, let’s just say that i haven’t found any allies so far besides my own reflection. I don’t mind, i am use to the situation and in both virtual reality and our common world i have been attacked many times in many different ways. And here we are, sharing the experience. But don’t think this is the end of the road, this journey has only just begun.
Somewhere far away a disoriented man wakes up from a short sleep in a pile of leaves. Hungry, dehydrated and cold, but not demoralized. Especially that last one can be the difference between life and death, generals have known that for centuries. Powered by that moral and the determination to prove himself worthy he slowly rises from the dirt and continues his journey away from the dense forest. The first steps are hard and his legs feel shaky, but he pushes the rage bottled up inside of him through his muscles. On the horizon a red sun rises slowly giving the landscape in front of him a beautiful colored glance. It’s ironic how bad situations can bring you such amazing images, almost like a reward for endurance. Tall grass hides the sandy bottom from the rays of sun while different types of bird and insects hover above it searching for nutrients. He looks as if he is daydreaming while he walks, but he tries to minimize the energy he uses. A few times a unsuspected rock catches his feet and makes him tumble towards the ground. Finally he reaches the edge of a small river. Without checking the quality of the water he starts drinking. It doesn’t matter if the quality is poor anyway, this is the last chance he has. After drinking several hands filled with the cold liquid he rolls on his back and falls asleep again, exhausted but not dehydrated any longer. Sometimes even a small piece of progress can be enough to get back on the right track. For a few more hours he lies beside the riverbed dreaming of home, a world which he may never see again. Then his eyes slowly open, making his mind aware of the environment it’s located at; rock bottom. It’s a simple conclusion based on facts, forcing him to act according to circumstances. He can’t go on like this, improvising along. Regardless of the growing distance between him and his personal belongings. “Attachment is the root to suffering”, the Buddha says. Since the buddha is the one who stands above the gods, he must follow in his footsteps to avoid death. To become like water, one with the environment in spite of the circumstances. Water doesn’t care about it’s location. In the polar regions it blends in by becoming ice, in the desert if forms oases, and in the middle of a forest it offers a foundation for wildlife. It extinguishes flames, but if the fire is hot enough it evaporates and splits into a perfect fuel and catalyser. And the opposite can be done as well, it is what he currently tries to do within. To cool down the temperature of the intense fire burning inside and divide the paradox causing the reaction. The feeling of loss combined with the feeling of insecurity caused by deception and the rage and hunger for revenge. The second is the bad motivator that`s been clouding his judgement for the past hours, he should be more cautious and aware. Slowly he takes a look around to see if there is anything useful in the area, but besides the small river of hardly two metres wide and fifty centimeters deep and some short bushes there isn’t really anything he can use to hunt. He takes a closer look at the water and sees a few small fish swimming along with the strong current now and then. His stomach feels empty, but catching them with bare hands isn’t as easy as it looks in some movies he has seen in his world. There has to be a way to slow them down a bit and make it easier to catch a few. Carefully he gathers some rocks and starts piling them up in a row to build a small dam. If he can somehow build a kind of maze for the fish to swim through it might me enough. After thirty minutes he can already see a bit of progress. The river has been narrowed a bit and the fish only have a small point to swim through. They are still way too fast for him to catch though, he has to improvise. The small vegetation forms a good solution. A couple of small twigs bound together prove to be a worthy fishing trap, letting the water flow through but stopping anything bigger then a small leaf. After an hour of fail and success he already gathered a decent meal and his mood becomes more positive due to the increase of his chances. Before the third night in stis strange world kicks in, he lies besides a small campfire carefully camouflaged by a wall of surrounding rocks piled on top of each other. The rocks keep the light from the fire out of view and protect him against any sparks while it transfers the heat of the flames. His body slowly recovers and his mind stabilizes. Tomorrow things will get better…
I look back at the last sentence of my dream with pride. I’ve told myself the same so many times, but i was never wrong. Things are slowly getting better in reality as well. My dreams form a great source of inspiration for me and i can only hope i can pass a bit of it on to my followers and make them aware of the potential of their own dreams. Each and every one of them are unique and amazing, just like the people that carry them. If you give them the space they deserve they will shape you, making you more unique and amazing every day. Patience is a great virtue, nature has no hurry in it’s great plan for creation so why should we? Because we “only” live about seventy-five years on average? If you use time twice as efficient seventy five years will become just as productive as a hundred and fifty years. Imagine how much you could stretch time by raising your level of awareness, mental processing and structural growth exponentially. The fabric of space time would be like clay in the palm of your hands, or like simple thoughts in the center of your mind. A mere brain wave with a rippling effect through the body, spreading waves of growth or waves of decline. Waves of destruction or waves of creation slowly emitting from a divine center. I wanted to close this chapter with something for you to think about. If i failed at that one please be sure to leave a comment in the section below, because there is always enough empty space left for progress.