All broken inside? Gotcha!

Remember all your epiphanies. Work. Get away from alcohol and everything. Be yourself. You are tough. You are cool. Listen. Take care of your family. Take care of your business. Work. Don’t run away from problems, run into them. Tear them apart and stand like a sadhu. You will not take anything from this world. You will always give. Give until your last breath. Why did you forget to give? Why did you forget to forgive? Why do you chase the lights when you are light? Noones wrong and noones right. Stop judging. It will make you sad and the people around you. There’s more to the world than just let your days pass. Revolt, revolutionize, love, hate, play, smile, laugh, cry, work, work, work. Be calm, be quiet, don’t care too much, but don’t care  too less either. Moderate, But don’t fall to mediocrity. Look what you can make, forget what you can destroy. You have grown too many chains, restraint, control. Cool off, find yourself a new perspective, push your boundaries, push your strength, fear, anger, courage, heart, head and your soul. There’s always a new place, not to run to, but build to. Find more choices, explore yourself, create moments, listen to music, drive, dive. Trust yourself, delete your judgements of yourself, fucking fly. Be mad. And then, if noone gives a fuck, congratulations, you are doing an awesome job.


The Moon Says

I am the moon. As I humbly ask of the sun to gently leave, and convince that I will be watching over the earth, he leaves exhausted and worried for the next beautiful land. That every being be watched upon as they breathe in peace. While the night is dark, know that darkness wont hurt you, and hold onto the blissful smiles and love, because if you hate, the expense of creating the universe would be a waste. Know all these souls and entities, between whom you sleep, because they are you, and you are them. Doesnt it pinch in your heart when you hurt another? That is why.
I watch over when this darkness is used to hide, when loving fathers and mothers are slayed for money and metals by theives and robbers. The pity is twofold because a doctor denied the robbers daughters treatment because the good hospitals wanted more money, and the poor honest father could not save her little girls life.
And what are the doctors taught on the first day of their education? ‘Never turn down a patient in need’?
And I move along, there are houses emnating loud voices, voices of extreme hatred. I see a bleeding human on the road who got hit by a drunk car. The car escaped that instant but the human bled till he died because theres a government law number and people are afraid of being put to jail.
I watch over when people celebrate, and I see a beautiful panorama of the earth shaded with colors, crackers and smiles on faces. when a family reunites, to see how far have we gotten to becoming a better human ourselves. I watch souls fall in love, first smiles of beautiful children and their love, whose each moment is a thousand lifetimes. And I rejuvinate. I rejuvinate as I humbly make way for the sun, because I have to go watch a beautiful land while they sleep on the earths lap and leave as the sun gently illuminates them.

Introduction /Chapter 1: The Subconscious Mind

What is it which intuits you that you’ve forgotten something in the apartment and you are sure of it, but finally you give up and you find you really had forgotten your  earphones? You had a firm compulsion but in a hurry, you ignored it instead. That “compulsion” is generated by your subconscious mind. That part of the brain which is always aware and taking all the information of each tiniest  moment that you have been through , to store it in an archive and use it as a kind of reference for handling similar future events in a better way. The reason why the subconscious can only give you as far as a “firm compulsion” and not a formal “You forgot your earphones” is because not all the information of the subconscious can  be interpreted to words from our language( we can try to describe it, to say the most). And that collection of experiences of an individual creates the character of every individual’s present self. It decides if the person prefers juice over coffee, the pitch of his/her speaking voice or  if he/she would insist on buying the movie tickets beforehand. To elaborate more, our subconscious mind is an automatic machine which takes in information in real time, for the sake of not overburdening our conscious mind with myriads of information it cannot comprehend, and guide the conscious mind in the best possible way. It is true that our subconscious mind holds immense power, and if used effectively can produce anything from a super calculator human to metal bending humans, who interact through their subconscious minds to interact with the metal object and transform its molecular arrangement. Incidents like these are not uncommon these days.

The conscious mind heavily relies on the subconscious mind. The new research “doesn’t prove that consciousness never does anything,” wrote Roy Baumeister, a professor of psychology at Florida State University, in an e-mail message. “It’s rather like showing you can hot-wire a car to start the ignition without keys. That’s important and potentially useful information, but it doesn’t prove that keys don’t exist or that keys are useless.”

Yet he and most in the field now agree that the evidence for psychological hot-wiring has become overwhelming.

In an experiment, published in 2005, Dutch psychologists had undergraduates sit in a cubicle and fill out a questionnaire. Hidden in the room was a bucket of water with a splash of citrus-scented cleaning fluid, giving off a faint odor. After completing the questionnaire, the young men and women had a snack, a crumbly biscuit provided by laboratory staff members.

The researchers covertly filmed the snack time and found that these students cleared away crumbs three times more often than a comparison group, who had taken the same questionnaire in a room with no cleaning scent. “That is a very big effect, and they really had no idea they were doing it,” said Henk Aarts, a psychologist at Utrecht University and the senior author of the study.

Researchers do not yet know how or when, exactly, unconscious drives may suddenly become conscious; or under which circumstances people are able to override hidden urges by force of will. Millions have quit smoking, for instance, and uncounted numbers have resisted darker urges to misbehave that they don’t even fully understand.

Sigmund Freud and his followers developed an account of the unconscious mind. It plays an important role in psychoanalysis.

Freud divided the mind into the conscious mind (or the ego) and the unconscious mind. The latter was then further divided into the id (or instincts and drive) and the superego (or conscience). In this theory, the unconscious refers to the mental processes of which individuals make themselves unaware. Freud proposed a vertical and hierarchical architecture of human consciousness: the conscious mind, the preconscious, and the unconscious mind—each lying beneath the other. He believed that significant psychic events take place “below the surface” in the unconscious mind, like hidden messages from the unconscious. He interpreted such events as having both symbolic and actual significance.

In psychoanalytic terms, the unconscious does not include all that is not conscious, but rather what is actively repressed from conscious thought or what a person is averse to knowing consciously. Freud viewed the unconscious as a repository for socially unacceptable ideas, wishes or desires, traumatic memories, and painful emotions put out of mind by the mechanism of psychological repression. However, the contents did not necessarily have to be solely negative. In the psychoanalytic view, the unconscious is a force that can only be recognized by its effects—it expresses itself in the symptom. In a sense, this view places the conscious self as an adversary to its unconscious, warring to keep the unconscious hidden. Unconscious thoughts are not directly accessible to ordinary introspection, but are supposed to be capable of being “tapped” and “interpreted” by special methods and techniques such as meditation, free association (a method largely introduced by Freud), dream analysis, and verbal slips (commonly known as a Freudian slip), examined and conducted during psychoanalysis. Seeing as these unconscious thoughts are normally cryptic, psychoanalysts are considered experts in interpreting their messages.

Freud later used his notion of the unconscious in order to explain certain kinds of neurotic behavior. Nevertheless, Freud’s theory of the unconscious was substantially transformed by some of his followers, among them Carl Jung and Jacques Lacan.

 The subconscious is important in dealing and learning the Ultimate Reality because apart from the conventional uses of the subconscious, the subconscious is a way to all the other realms that exist other than what you see, touch, taste, smell and hear. One of the ways the subconscious interacts with the conscious mind is the dreaming state where your subconscious suggests you subtly, one day at a time. Much research has appeared recently  in decrypting the dreams as the symbols in the dreams have to be translated to derive the “big picture”. The concept of the conscious and the subconscious is not new. Maharaja Tipu Sultan (India), in the medieval ages, was frequently visited by good-willed entities warning him of the forthcoming dangers for the kingdom or the people. There have been musicians, who claim to have been learning music in their dreams from their non-physical gurus. We have the example of Swami Yogananda, the great saint’s autobiography is divine and concentrated with lessons of love, light and faith with the very description of “the higher worlds”, that can be accessed by balanced beings through their subconscious. Swami Yogananda also has also made us aware about the power will of a human being. Ra material also states that a human mind, sufficiently trained in controlling the power of the will can materialize any physical object when and where they wish to!

We are much more than just civilizations of random people living on a planet that just “happened” to be fit for generating life forms and sustaining them through such vast amounts of time. Look around you, the world is full of mysteries. There are theories still coming up about how the great pyramids were made, Bermuda triangle is another mystic place where space/time changes behavior in inexplicable ways.

Shamanism is a practice that involves a practitioner reaching altered states of consciousness in order to encounter and interact with the Spirit world. A shaman is a person regarded as having access to, and influence in the world of benevolent and malevolent spirits, who typically enters into a trance state during a ritual, and practices divination and healing. Further investigation shows that after ingesting plants like Salvia Divinorum, a shaman is able to shift his consciousness into the higher planes of dimension, the consciousness state where he is able to see everything. Everything meaning if an object is observed, you will perceive the object at its true form. Both, the frontal and the posterior parts of every object is observed simultaneously. This is very hard to visualize because our minds have been trained from the moment we open our eyes to observe and perceive the 3-dimensional world, of which we are a part of. After proper rituals preceding healing, the shaman goes into a state of trance, expands his consciousness to find which part of the patient is not well and the cause of disease is removed. It is magical for us, but to them, its just another practice routine as their whole life is dedicated to helping the community.

Another great aspect of the subconscious are lucid dreams. Lucid dreaming is one of the ways to get access to the astral world. A lucid dream is a dream in which the dreamer, though conscious efforts or accidentally becomes aware that he/she is dreaming whilst dreaming. The effect of becoming aware in a dream is that the dreamer now has control over the happenings of his dream. In simple words, you can drive your personalized Lamborghini any night you want. Of course, the possibilities are endless, you could do anything from an audience simulation for an upcoming performance. or just try out the extremes of what your imagination can give you. It is pretty entertaining too, but should not be practiced with carelessness. Caution should be observed.

The distinction between nonlucid and lucid dreams represents perhaps the broadest level of variation in dream experiences presently recognized. The contemporary notion of a lucid dream is a “dream in which one knows one is dreaming” (Green, 1968). This is in contrast to the nonlucid dream, in which dreamers are not aware of being in the dream state.

Another interesting phenomenon is an Out-of-Body Experience, often called OBE’s(Also referred as Astral Projection). An out-of-body experience (OBE or sometimes OOBE) is an experience that typically involves a sensation of floating outside one’s body and, in some cases, perceiving one’s physical body from a place outside one’s body (autoscopy) or experiencing something located physically. An OBE may be spontaneous sometimes, or can also be achieved by training. The Monroe Institute’s Nancy Penn Center is the oldest and most established facility specializing in out-of-body experience induction. The Center for Higher Studies of the Consciousness in Brazil is another large OBE training facility. The International Academy of Consciousness in southern Portugal features the Projectarium, a spherical structure dedicated exclusively for practice and research on out-of-body experience. Olaf Blanke’s Laboratory of Cognitive Neuroscience has become a well-known laboratory for OBE research.

The astral body(or etheric body) is a subtle body posited by many religious philosophers, intermediate between the intelligent soul and the physical body, composed of a subtle material. It has a much lighter form than the physical human body. It has the ability to travel at the speed of thought. Because you think..and you are there.

Evidence for objective reality of projection on to the etheric plane (a near-copy of the physical plane) is sometimes suggested when people, such as patients during surgery, describe OBEs in which they see or hear events or objects outside their sensory range (for instance, Pam Reynolds reported experiencing an OBE during brain surgery and described a surgical instrument she had not seen previously, as well as conversation that occurred while she was under anesthesia).

 My next post would probably be a poem so, you subscribers not interested in poems can skip it until next chapter is compiled. More information may be added in published chapters if need be observed. Comment your Feedbacks or mail at

Prologue ( The Human Consciousness and The Ultimate Reality)

One of all the mystic wonders of the world is human consciousness. Sadly, in this caffeine-driven workaholic, egoistic society, we hardly acknowledge how less evolutionary we are spiritually, and ,in fact, worsening the condition. To the extent that most of the readers, after looking at ‘evolutionary’ and ‘spiritual’ and like words start to go all frantic because  the communities have  painted a picture of “spiritualism” with “God”, and most of us run at the very glimpse of it, or even if forced to listen to, we disregard all facts and continue with a vague hope of being satisfied with a decent job, a house, family and all those things which keep you away from questioning yourself at some point “What the hell are we all doing here?!”. We are happy with the lesser reality shown to us by our conscious mind, without question, and we further discourage anyone even curious to know the subconscious, and stop any attempts by creating societal pressure. Because of the vastness and our linguistic constrains to describe this subject, I will only seem to scratch the surface, but bear with me, for, you are going to learn the most fascinating cosmic world and the reason of all the existence, All That There Is. I have studied works, books and lectures Terrence Mckenna, Huxley, Jim DeKorne, the 1983 revolutionary revelation “The Law of One By Ra, An Humble Messenger” and likes. I will try to converge as much knowledge as possible here for the general public, unaware of any work in this field. I will be posting chapters as and when I compile them. Personally, I have to say, this is the most vital knowledge I have found to date. Also, I humbly extend a hand to any person who might like to contribute to making this work more feasible and would like to help me with any comments or suggestions. Readers are requested to keep an open mind until a few chapters are materialised given the nature of the subject as it concerns beings from other dimensions, alien contacts and the constituents of the Supreme Reality. It will be a fascinating, surprising and  beautiful but hard to fit in the general sense of logic that we humans so profoundly speak of and have so carefully built upon. A section is dedicated to the famous 2012 shift of consciousness theory, which is now being discussed with much interest among people. So sit tight, as the introduction will be out in a week at, my personal blog. If you subscribe, you will be updated every time a new chapter is added. You can mail me with questions on Also pardon any delays in chapters would be if i ‘d be busy with my college.

One Tears

Child of 8, on a corner of street,

Torn rugged broken and bruised on the feet,

He’s biting upon an in-chewable beef,

As he places his words with a sincere mischief,

“Spare a dime, oh mistress, oh sirs!

For, God is watching us from above,

Thousand tears we’ve got to shed,

Each as priceless as one mouth fed.

How lucky, for, you got a chance,

To stop one tear from falling on!”


A gentleman poured a little over three,

A little too impressed by the little kid,

The world is such in which we live,

For, few of us got the heart of a tree.

Happiest, the child rushed to the shop,

One he had always dreamed about,

They served food and meat, had a restless dog,

Reached the counter, raised himself up,

To speak to those at the other end,

“Hello sir! could I place an order please,

I need two parts beef, sir, the best you offer,

One for this restless dog,

One for beloved mother.”


And on and on he merrily sings,

“Spare a dime, oh mistress, oh sirs!

For, God is watching us from above,

Thousand tears we’ve got to shed,

Each as priceless as one mouth fed.

How lucky, for, you got a chance,

To stop one tear from falling on!”


The Cobbler And The Nun

Every child,

So confused,

Oh where do we even start,

Holding love,

In their eyes,

Lovely lies to convince their hearts.


What are you staring at,

We are all but one,

Keeping our hands so close, entangled,

Waiting for the other side to touch,


Every child so broken and bruised,

Oh where do we even start,

Lovely wives, they cook good food,

Such convinced in playing their parts,

A name so proud, each bears undoubted,

While we don’t know who we are,

Oh we don’t know who we are.


We are all but one,

The cobbler and the nun,

We are all,

But one.

Zombie Love

As clean as it seems,
The lady’s lips, painted to shine,
Pouring pointed monstrous lies.

How would have he known?
Tears poured down her eyes, to show,
How her was the cleaner conscience.

He wiped them off over,
Killed everything that was on beneath,,
Like a child lost to ardency.

On a rough winter when,
All her paints faded to grey,
She stood, Helpless, caught, Naked.

In her cold eyes then,
He couldn’t find his place beneath,
Ah! His heart bate such anguish.

He closed his eyes firm,
He’d never open again,
She, free, merry on her way.

As he walks the streets,
Children, middling, points him, says “There, there!
Another living dead.”

Where Are All the Fireflies Gone?

And a tear dropped down from her tiny eyes,
Falling freely,
After it stole away its tail, It yelled,
“I have had enough in the eyes!”
“And the world is waiting to be mine!”
The world was beautiful, indeed,
Oh! what a glorious glide!
Ever so proud and happy,
These sneaked away one at a time,
None of them even looking behind!

Droplets soaking into her favorite pillow,
Their prides gave away with the warmth they’d stole,
She tugged her mother as she looked above,
Each being holds a different a need and a want!
She points into the dark where the demons haunt,
“Mum, Where are all the fireflies gone?”

Beautiful Monster

Like an orphan bird trying to fly to her mother’s corpse,
With the one wing it flaps all its remorse.
Like a tear of vengeance less, for the lovely one,
When there’s no more fuel left to burn.
Like the hurt of a rose, only little on the surface,
When looked from the eyes of another face.
Like the rusty closet trying to open, confused,
The billionth ring on the phone, to tell you it’s not for you.
The shimmering ring of gold, so worthless and broke,
Been a while since a mind really spoke.

And the eyes,the hands the lips you remember,
Ah! life is such beautiful monster.

My White Unicorn

And I was so wrong wrong wrong,

Trying to make my point of view,

This world so mighty and old,

And how I was nothing new.

I too fell too tired and worn,

Trying to find my white unicorn,

Always too fumbling, tumbling in the dark,

Wrong hands were right, but now they just smelt torn.

Being told that everything I say was just not true,

When all I needed was one soul to hold me through,

And then my hands touched a moving new,

Found a hand wrapped on my everything blue.

Her face was lit, Bright,

Oh how it burnt away my monstrous nights,

Her calm hands on my every side.

Look damned people, look at me!

Why would I ever need to be right?

If you liked this, You’d also like: The Greenest Grass , Can’t Love Again, Truthful Lies,You Bet It’s Worth The WhileCon-ScienceA Piece of PorcelainIndiaaaaaaaaa!!!! , My Secret PlaceWorld’s Strangest ToyChild’s Every DimeTruthful Lies .


Genuine smile practised a thousand times,

Like the worthless truth, told for a greedy mind.

Why tell me if you got a clean conscience,

Its about time you smother me in your vicious cries.

I walked round the world to walk away from you,

But you, you had to burn into me all the way through.

Its when I try to peel off the burns,

I see how perfectly lit every wound was.

I was love stoned, stood right there,

Watched you drift another light year,

Yet you stand facing me, flashing your clean conscience,

With that genuine smile practised a zillion times.

If you liked this, You’d also love: The Greenest Grass , Can’t Love Again, Break Free, Truthful LiesYou Bet It’s Worth The While

A Piece of Porcelain

Once you crack it on the inside,

To pieces of porcelain,

Then throw them away to,

A hundred meaningless things.

And wonder in the moonlight,

Why things go a little too less bright,

And you walk blindfolded,

The sweetest way to survive.

Once it cracks and the sun dies,

And the truths try to cut into lies.

Aimless hands toss the fragments to ground,

Crawling away to be lost, not found.

And you wish you’d just smash and break it all down,

But love is just such a complex compound.

If you liked this, You’d also like: The Greenest Grass , Can’t Love Again, Break Free, Truthful Lies,You Bet It’s Worth The While,

My Secret Place

Tell me what you are doing,
tell me anything,
Tell me what bible says,
Then tell me its on me,
And I will sustain a blast,
Not to this degree,
Just be out of here for now,
I know you are as free.
And when your phone goes off,
Blame electricity,
Oh! its been so dark,
You can’t see me disagree;

Ask for my arms with a ,
Blade in your right hand,
I just push them to you,
And quietly watch where I stand.

Now I am tired,
Of supporting the walls,
And I’ll let go,
When you ‘re busy choosing the sex of your dolls.

Tell me what you are doing,
tell me anything,
Tell me what bible says,
Then tell me its on me,
And I will sustain a blast,
Not to this degree,
Just be out of here for now,
I know you are as free,
But this is the place where i secretly bleed,
Just take away whatever you need,
Put them in a box, call it “greed”,
Because you forgot there was a word once,

And we called it “heed”.

If you liked this, You’d also love: The Greenest Grass , Can’t Love Again, Break Free, Truthful Lies,You Bet It’s Worth The While

Child’s Every Dime

You see her walking into the bar,
another dealer crossing by,
she hates the tequila;
or crumpled fries,
try to touch that light;
shimmering by;
Stashes are out,
Whats the point?
She had to get one’s,
Every dime, just in time.

Couple shots vodka,
sucked out lime;
And she waved into a mother,
The shimmering old knife,
Two dollars, tens,
Had save her night,
Oh that smirk, what a sight!
Mother gasping puffs,
Heartbeats mild,
Begging moments to coze those,
Uncertain hands of her Terrified child.

But hoards are out,
Whats the point?
She had to get one’s,
Every dime,
We’ll scream out aloud, but you wouldn’t find,
“Its your fault you cold dumb swine.”

If you liked this, You’d also love: The Greenest Grass , Can’t Love Again, Break Free, Truthful LiesYou Bet It’s Worth The While

The Happy Monk ( Original mix ) out on itunes Now! Hot EDM Single may 2016 Music Video!

I finally started making music! EDM Music Video! Night Nicotine : 2016 Progressive Electro Single!


I am the worthless chunk of society,

I could not earn a million,

I wouldn’t hurt 7 billion,


I am the broke and uninspired,

I am the moon that looks at fire,

I am the gamer geek,

I am a poet and a freak.


I am the one undesired,

I am no gold, I am the one acquired,

I am the one, I try to help,

Yet I am the one, I scream and yelp.


I am the worthless chunk of society,

Not that I care, I am just one variety,


And here I stand, you, reading,

While I stand here, worthless, bleeding.


I am the worthless chunk of society,

And I am all the fucking variety,

But if you, one day, feel the same,

You wanna hug and feel the shame,


Call me below and I’ll put you down,

And tell you your life’s your  fucking own.


Double zero nine one,

Seven eight nine eight,

Four nine triple eight one.


I am the worthless chunk of society,

I could not earn a million,

I couldn’t hurt 7 billion,

Just because,

I am the worthless chunk of society.

The Little Things

Its been a while since you have gone,
and you wonder how do i get along,
when i lay down tired and the lights are on,
when i cant find the clothes i want,
My shoe, my coat and what do i put on,
Nothing’s been right since you have gone.

My charm, my calm, and all my laughs,
have been cut through, in more than halves,
and we rush through life like its a race,
without looking at another face,
show them that our heart is clean,
and move along to another thing.

when i remember you in my head,
its the little things that put me to bed,
your eyes, you hair your need to be,
its my life’s only ecstacy,

if you one day decide to go,
plunge a knife into my heart and through,
because if the earth took you away and kept,
I would gladly tell the universe that i left.

When You Speak ‘Om Namah Shivay’

When I walked on the roads,

Of disaster and foes,

A dagger in my feet,

And bladen on my throat,

Om Namah Shivay,

Om Namah.

Broken hearted,

Wounded, deserted,

And I found life,

Om Namah Shivay.

Om Namah.

There was war on the streets

A fire within

And it is you the enemy beats,

While one of your loved tries and cheats,

Om Namah Shivay,

Om Namah.

Saw evil on my face

There wasnt no escape

While evil mourned,

I said on its face,

Om Namah Shivay,

Om Namah.


I faced a reckless soldier,

Faced a lonely deserter,

Faced a hating lover,

Faced an evil that would consume me,

And I stood there,


Because I am a son,

And I am not the only one,

Born of earth, air, water,

And, Fire and Ether,

Because I behold the creator,

In my within,

The wrath of a million storms,

And the calm of a million seas.

Om Namah Shivay

Om Namah Shivay

Om Namah Shivay

Om Namah.

And I speak,

Om Namah Shivay,

Because, Before a beginning, There’s an end.

And because, this is just another End.



I bow to Lord Shiva,

The Universe bows to Lord Shiva.

Chronicles From The Future – 2021

Part 1 – The Joy of Company

“So is it true? Are you a billionaire then?” said a stern soft-spoken voice, his eyes from behind large well crafted wood spectacles that seemed to dilute the aggression his eyes held. He was just back from his cigarette break and the room smelled faintly of nicotine and ash. Daemon Robert was a investigative journalist, a U.S resident who was in a police station at Goa interviewing possibly one of the youngest and richest man around the globe, held responsible for collapsing the economy of 7 countries.
In a span of 18 months.
Jimmy Joy Kajiratingal  looked up to the journalist, almost same physique as him, who was here to interview him. Jimmy’s face gleamed of the mischief a 10 year old does and watches it unfold in front of his eyes. He had been holding the expression since the journalist first entered the room.
As a usual routine, Daemon held a charming and honest face when he first saw Jimmy “Hello, I am Daemon Robert and I am here to interview you. Pleased to meet you.” it was necessary to make the interviewee comfortable throughout the session, else, he would miss on the most crucial information. Daemon observed everything visual very quickly as he entered the room. Jimmy had long hands, just like his, implying he takes care of the details in everything, not much different from what he was. After all, the little things give you away. His blue jeans and white shirt were largely outdated, like he had just teleported from the 2010’s, suggesting he paid little or no attention to how he is perceived, or does not like to be judged altogether. He had even heard that the man had a 1967 Camaro rs for which he purchased 5 years worth of petroleum because synthetic petroleum couldn’t run that thing. So probably likes to place his emotions before logic? Lets find out, he thought. “So are you a billionaire Jimmy?”
“Nope. And you dont need an introduction! You are The Daemon Robert almost all of the world celebrates with. By the way I was a fan of the slap you laid on the former president’s face when he declined all evidence in front of the BBC Vision Cloud, you know that thing, that shows news stream to every human in its vicinity whether they be shitting in their toilets or having sex with the neighbor.” Jimmy burst out laughing and speaking uncontrollably “And they played the thing over and over again just for the fun of it. Oh! He is one messed up human being. I overheard this Mexican guy on the radio, he said if you wouldn’t have slapped him, he would have killed him with his own zrakughaz. Whatever the hell that meant! I tell you, you should hire security, the world has become a stranger place than it used to be.”
“Yeah, yeah” said a proud journalist “That He deserved”. After momentarily living through that moment again, he came back to the room. “Uhmm.. I have strong information that you are lying. Would you reconsider the question?”
“Yes. And I am not lying. And what stupid person would say no to the question?! Why would I earn a billion dollars in the first place?!” He made those mischievous eyes again “I would love to say yes but I am afraid I’ll have to stick with no.”
Daemon’s eyes tried to pump pure rage but the journalist inside took control. Those were the words his fiancé said when he asked her to marry him. And he, foolishly and revengefully, tweeted. ‘Breathe’, his mind said. “I’ll be back in a minute.” blurted Daemon.
As he got up to fetch the door, Jimmy grinned “And Nicotine is a bitch.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” daemon sprang outside. He took out a cigarette, pressed the bud and the thing ignited itself. Might be handy when you are stuck on an island with only a pack of these. He puffed out the previous session and joined Jimmy back in the room. If Jimmy wont crack, he will have to use absurd ways to pull out information. And that, he personally didn’t like.

Part – 2 Lets Just Drink

Time had passed slowly in the room. No cameras, no attendants, the police officials responsible were drunk in their offices and it was only 7 o’clock in the evening. He gathered strength to go on, as much as he missed the cameras. He settled in the chair and delivered on “I have heard you have donated much money for the welfare of the poor. How much would that be, if you don’t mind sharing.”
“Oh that! Yes, I have donated money, vehicles and houses to people. They needed it more. The poor are those who never dream.” He shifted closer to Daemon, and whispered “You pride clouds your perception, Daemon Robert, get over your pride, because when your beloved pride falls, you fall with it.” Jimmy ended with the expression of a yogi and a pleasant smile almost laughing, agitating Daemon even more because it had been 8 hours in here and Jimmy had given him only rubbish. He adjusted his wooden glasses and the exquisite black leather jacket he picked up at Stanley’s. He was losing it today, almost
pushed to the edge by a lunatic billionaire who had surfaced a month ago and is now practically a celebrity. Jimmy knew the man, he was a legendary journalist who brought forth the filthiest of the news from around the world. And he hated filtered news that airs everyday to mass program these ignorant minds. And advertisements that go deep into the subconscious and produce absolute craving for those products and commodities, you look absolutely stupid, but not to yourself.
This is why the American people loved him. He was among the strongest candidate to run for president. When debated that he should be in America, he politely says “I am a journalist, I’ll do my job until I am not elected.” Oh the honesty. America fell for it face down and he had an upcoming speech 5 days from now, to more than 78 million Americans. But Jimmy’s case had allured him.
“I did my research and I practically know everything about you, its just that you wouldn’t confess to it. But don’t worry, I have got my ways.” said Daemon, smiling, trying to tell himself to dig deeper. But his impatience seemed to give away in the last 8 hours of gibberish. He needs to provide more options in his questions, that gives him anything substantial. Jimmy wasn’t an easy one to crack. He was just stalking, But why in the god’s name! After all, he had called him here!
Gathering all his lost patience and calm, he asked jimmy “Okay, now, I am gonna ask everything, just respond to any of the questions, any names, places, gather points or anything that I take back and give to the newspaper that doesn’t embarrass me! Anything at all?! God give me some substance!” and realized that the calm gave away until he finished his sentence.
“Oh please god give me some substance too! Ha Ha Ha!” Jimmy giggled on the chair “And then god yells in all his wrath and glory! ‘You don’t ask God for substance you little deluded mortal! You buy it from the dealer!’” jimmy burst out laughing, uncontrollably, tears moistened his eyes.
Daemon stared with unfathomable rage.
This was just too much, Daemon threw his fist over the table and his large body seemed to wiggle the creaky table in the dimly lit room, in a police compound. He jumped up from his chair, his hands impulsively caught hold of his collar almost pulling half of him over the table “Are you even listening?! For god’s fucking sake! You called me all the way to India to give a bloody interview and you have been blabbering garbage all day what the fuck do you think I am?! A stupid moron?!” he almost spat at jimmy’s always calm face.
Now this was the absolute breaking point. “Okay okay! I am sorry! I accept it was my fault!” retaliating into the chair “I was just trying to know you before I spill beans!” leaving a surprised interviewer standing by himself. Wondering if he wants to kill this guy or interview him. “Can we have a drink? I don’t like drinking alone. I am ready to talk.” Jimmy said unceasing his white cotton shirt from a recent pulse of anger, like nothing ever happened. “I don’t drink but sure as hell would have one today!” blabbered Daemon, with a relief that finally this was going to work out. As always. He congratulated himself on the occasion. A drink was not too bad!
“Get me a large Chivas please.” and Jimmy went into a hypnotic state staring into his hand cuffs resting on the brown muddy antique table. Daemon left through the blue door patched with black shoe prints and dirt. India is still the same! he thought to himself. The room around him was the cheapest room any government could build for the people. It was 2023, 9 years since the much anticipated Aam Aaadmi Party had promised shit to the people of India.  Everything is on sale in this country. 2018 came the decline of AAP, and people realized they were fooled again, then another party took over which has, somehow held the power for two terms.
Cryptocurrencies had destabilized the global economy. With one Bitcoin priced at $1,93,052 and absolutely no clue of who pays who, the bitcoin movement inter and intra countries overpowered all stabilized currencies of the world. The plan was simple. Corrupt their leaders, drive them to chaos. And what better way to give directions to people like it is their own intended, chosen one. Hypnosis for corrupting leaders, 2 hour plastic surgeries for escaping felonies and bitcoins for new identities—these are the things that kept people like jimmy up and running. This was his last project. After he’d be done here, in goa, he would be paid 5000 bitcoins instantly and he’ll be retired for life. A happy ending to Jimmy Joy Kajiratingal.
He could hear those confident footsteps, the one of a leader, the follower of truth, without compromises. The door trust open with a slight thud of leather covered elbow, hands carrying two glasses. Daemon placed himself obliquely from his prey. Now he had to hunt for answers. “Cheers!” Jimmy held the glass in both of his hands, the handcuffs clinked, and moved towards Daemon’s. “You are a son of a bitch you know that?” Daemon said with a smirk on his face “Well let’s get started shall we?” taking out his notepad and recorder. Daemon took a huge gulp. Ugh! The first sip is the worst sip if you are drinking whiskey! Jimmy’s face turned serious, it was ripe time, the opiates were already acting on this poor journalist’s body.
In his notepad, He scribbles on:
Q: “So, what are you?”
A: “I am a Freelancer.”
Q: “Can you describe in detail; freelancer for what?”
A: “Let’s just say I do everything that I can except those things that my conscience doesn’t allow, or something that the skills I have cannot accomplish.”
Q: “Are you a U.S. citizen?”
A: “Yes, though I spent my childhood in India.”
Daemon’s hands were getting sweaty, and his head felt light, He had interviewed celebrities and people in power with great ease, and now, this man makes him nervous? Maybe it’s the whiskey, It been months since he last drank. or probably because there were no cameras to look into. He emptied the golden fluid. The door clinks a bit, probably the stray dog again! He delves back to scribbling. The traffic on the road is too noisy to overlook. But he went on. He is on duty.
Q: “So how did you manage to bring down 7 economies to a bankruptcy? The truth please!”
A: “Ah! the meat of the discussion! I like that! well, I ‘ll Keep it simple for you. I am Shatzam, The inventor of bitcoin mining. I invented a currency out of thin air that reached a market value of $1,93,052 . Its production cost? Almost zero. So fuck yeah that kinda money flowing in and out of countries raped the very essence of currency. And the fact that every geek with decent computer was earning around 10 million each, and what produced it? every computer’s processor.. Because they are valued by the people’s worth of it. It clicked. And thanks to the collosal media for amplifying it all.”

“God do you look sick!” remarked jimmy as he slowly rose from his seat, it was time.
The room felt damp and suffocating, suddenly, Daemon felt his heartbeat go down to a minimal, before he could react, his hand let go of his glass, which seemed to move slowly in fractal patterns towards the ground which seemed to be the solidest thing in the room, and shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. Only his eyeballs could move, his body supported by the chair, as he watched a figure emerge in front of his eyes. His comprehension of objects his eyes saw had gone to absolute zero.
Deamon’s face looked pale as white, paranoia in his head and paralyzed on a seat he hears a faint voice calling “Who are you?” It seemed to come from the deepest of himself. “Who are you?!” the voice grew louder, a little more demanding than before. There was nothing that daemon could describe as himself, it was as if he did not exist anymore! Who was he! Indeed! Why was he ever here? why this terrible state of mind? am i dreaming? Am I alive? “Who are you?!!!” this time the voice was growling in his head, absolute fear, at his heart, the voice grew louder and louder with every repetition, it confirmed that there’s gonna be an answer! soon!
Then, Silence. The first phase, they taught him, was disintegrating the personality, the spiritualists call “ego loss”.
Jimmy stood in front of him, ready for the second phase. It’s amazing how human mind works, once the left brain and the right brain can coordinate freely, you can practically install a new person in a head. The second phase was the memories, which a little handy 3d projector would suffice for the moments of his life, and his brain fills in the blanks with complimenting suggestions from the programmer.
No suspects, no evidence, and no one missing. This was how the CIA had fucked up every American for the last decade. For national security- Bullshit.
The particular compound Daemon had ingested was an opiate with some harmaline to accelerate and amplify the identity shift process for the human programmers like Jimmy. Sometimes Iboga, an ancient plant from the lands of Africa is used, which as , in 2013 discovered to have treated thousands of heroin addicts around the world. “I don’t remember my addiction!” People said after they ingested the plant extract.
Jimmy looked at the face, with a soft whisper on his left ear, he spoke “Who are you, really?”
The cold face of Daemon suddenly had an expression, an expression of nothingness, struggling the last of his energy to his tongue, he mumbled “I don’t know.”
A smile ran on jimmy’s face, pure peace it radiated. This was his favorite part of the job. Now that the subject was drifting in an abstract reality, not able to identify himself, his eyes diluted to a point where everything around him was an unidentified flying object, the programming proceeded as usual. To a lost, pale, motionless and expressionless face of Daemon Robert he spoke
“Wouldn’t you like to know? You will remember once you are prompted things from the past. And I am here to help. Close your eyes, relax and focus now.”
It’s terrible when the human mind is removed of identity. The acceptance of suggestion works because in that intoxicated state every moment is a measurable decade of misery except when the words of the programmer are heard. And if you were deprived of all human contact for a decade, with no contemplation of who you are, wouldn’t you listen to that one voice that is talking to you?
Daemon closed his eyes. He couldn’t speak.
5 minutes pass in silence.
“I’ll try and help you remember your name.”
“Your name was Jimmy Joy Kajiratingal.”
“You are a zillionaire.”
“And you are responsible for the fall of 7 economies! And you know practically everything about you.”

Part 3 – The Final Phase, The Face.

4 hours later, a figure emerges from the room, and walks to the superintendent’s office. He places the Bitcoin card on the table and the e-ink display shining “50 BTC”, the superintendent loyal only to money rose up from his chair abruptly and spoke “good morning Sir. Any problem sir?” he had just been paid $ 9652600 non traceable cash.
“No, thank you. Take care of him just as I asked. He has an appointment at a surgeon’s in Goa. Don’t disappoint me, he has a flight to catch early morning tomorrow.” the figure, swiftly walks out of the police station, and its 8 am in the morning. ‘Mirage Plastic Surgeon, Andheri East, Mumbai.’ the address field of the contact his Phone projected.
‘EXIT’ above gate no. 4 glowed red beneath which stood a journalist waiting for his turn for a cab.
Mirage Plastic Surgeons had done a good job.
“Hello sir, Where to?” the driver adjusted himself and touched the seat secure button. “The Airport, International” said the newly formed Daemon Robert. And be quick, “I have 7 economies to fix.”
He had an exquisite black leather coat and his eyes watched from behind large well crafted wood spectacles that seemed to dilute the aggression his eyes held. Daemon Robert was an investigative journalist, a U.S resident who was in a police station at Goa and had interviewed possibly one of the youngest and richest man around the globe, held responsible for collapsing the economy of 7 countries.


-The Psychonaut, Earth-

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