Misery never Ends

It all began with what many might call a religious experience. I would call it "meeting with your God." To briefly explain how I got into this situation, I acquired a gem called the Monas Stone which allows its possessors access to different dimensions of reality. It seems our universe is not the only universe. Reality is like a great wave, our universe is riding the crest of the wave. The easiest way to think about the multiverse is like an F.M. wave. Our universe only exists at the peaks of the wave, it then phases out of existence, and another universe phases into existence, this universe would be Lovecraft's realm of the Elder Race. The cosmos of the Elder Race seems to be an in between or intermediate universe. When it phases out of existence, at the low point of the wave, the dark dimension phases into existence, The is the realm of the Lovecraft Gods: the Great Old Ones. We do not notice these changes except in exceptional circumstances, because we literally cease to exist when our universe phases out, and then pick up when it phases back into existence. So there is no sense of time loss unless one can gain access to the other dimensions. Our universe is like the music you hear on the radio, it only the peaks of the wave. Through the use of the Monas Stone I have gained access to the two other universes or dimensions of reality, and this is where I met my God: Yog Sothoth. In my first experience with the Monas Stone I became a an ally or tool of Yog Sothoth, which helped me to gain possession of the Monas Stone. The previous owner has been allied to a different faction in the dark dimension. I guess we all have assumptions on how the voice of God sounds. The thundering of Zeus, or the soft whisper of Hermes, but neither was true for me. Instead, the words and the voice were supplied by me and the emotions and feelings by Yog Sothoth. The voice of Yog Sothoth was the same voice in my head as reading a book. I shall also try to give you some idea of the physical sensation of being in the presence of my god. I felt like a sphere that oscillates as part of a great wheel. Yog Sothoth is often described as being a configuration of lights, but since I am blind and have no light perception; I was born totally blind , is why I experience him as a wheel of oscillating spheres of which I was one. One of the promises of occultism is knowledge,this was my reward for acquiring the Monas Stone. I was being enlightened by Yog Sothoth. I shall try to relate some of what I learned, and what was asked of me. I must also add Yog Sothoth is a greater teacher than me, but that is not saying a lot. Yog Sothoth deserves more credit. I am an academic, philosophy professor at a Los Angeles university in our universe. The first thing I learned is that the Great Old Ones are nourished by the excessive emotions of our universe. Human emotions are considered calorie source of food to them. What I am trying to say is that our negative emotions become food for the Great Old Ones. This is why the Great Old Ones find turmoil and chaos in our universe a good thing. Anyhow the next up I was to learn about the Great Old Ones themselves. The most primal of the Great Old Ones is Azathoth; the blind idiot god. I briefly thought about objecting to "blind idiot" , but felt overwhelming sense of fear. Azathoth is the primal chaos, the ceaseless buzzing chaos of existence. Powerful beyond compare, but with no focus. He is the primal anarchy. Next come my god Yog Sothoth. Yog Sothoth does not care about pain or pleasure, good or evil. He only cares about intensity and novelty. He is the god of limitation, of focus, His purpose is to focus and intensify feelings and emotions, and to bring about new things, and situations into realization. This is why He is known as the opener of the gates. All paths are of course a limitation. Dread Cthulhu is the war-god of the pantheon. The god of domination and control. The attempt to control the chaos through the use of force. Subtle Nyarlathotep is the god of scenarios, we think in scenarios, so Nyarlathotep delights in creating twisted complex scenarios brought into realization. We now come to the female god of the pantheon: Shub Niggurath. This is the goddess of love. The trouble is we ignore the dark side of love and desire. Shub Niggurath delights in jealousy, envy, and crimes of passion. Then there is Dagon who would be equivalent of Pluto in Greek mythology. The god of riches, wealth, and the sea. Dagon is the only Great Old One who has no trouble existing in our universe. He lives deep in the ocean with his deep ones. Here are the gods of the greater pantheon. It seems there is no equality even among gods. So the next gods are of the lesser pantheon, and are inferior in strength. They are Yig, and Tsathaggua. Yig is the serpent god. The god of frustration, humiliation, and wisdom. Something to do with the first two leading to wisdom. While Tsahoggua is the god of death. Tsathoggua seeks an end to all reality. This was quite a revelation, but Yog Sothoth has a revelation for me. I asked if there were any good gods; like a god of compassion and caring? The answer came swift and sure: "What would a god of love or compassion want with you?" I was startled, Yog Sothoth continued: "There have been others that have acquired the knowledge you now have, and have made it their mission to try to free humanity from being the food for the Great Old Ones. That thought never occurred to you, Gwen" Anyhow I guess people get the god they deserve, and gods get the followers they deserve. Yog Sothoth also gave me a mission to save the life of a young artist, not because He cared about life or death, but because the artist was source of intensity and novelty, That is how this episode of my life started. I relaxed, and plunged back into our dimension, I was back in bed, back to my apartment, back to being Gwen Chu Blind philosophy professor. I am only an associate professor probably never get tenure, only teach tow introductory classes a semester. It was still early in the day. Even though I wanted to lounge around in a hot bath, I knew I had to get started. When a demon-god tells you to do something you do it. I looked up Jordan Munn on the computer, sure enough he was an up and coming artist. A painter like Rembrandt, or Picasso. The artist he was most often compared with was Vincent Van Gogh, but with a marked occult streak. Wonderful, I thought sarcastically, here I am totally blind getting involved with a painter. I emailed him, explaining that I am an occult scholar and philosophy professor, and had reasons to think he was in danger. I was surprised at how quickly he emailed me back, and how eager he was to accept my help. Anyhow he included his phone number so I called him. I introduced myself, and he related the following tale: "I was a mediocre artist till I started seeing a spiritual teacher and hypnotist by the name of Adrian Laband. The is when my talent really started to show, but now I am having visions or hallucinations of bat like creatures with dog faces. I also see them in my dreams." I knew at once he was seeing the Hounds of Tindalos from the dark dimension. He implored me: "Can you help me?" I answered more confidently than I felt: "I think so." We arranged for him to pick me up that evening. I would call and tell him later to tell him when I was ready. I forgot to mention I was blind, things were going just ducky. So I decided to since I had time to draw a bubble bath. I have never heard an philosophers admit that they do their best thinking in a hot bath, but them most philosophers are men. I do my best thinking in the tub with a scented candle, guess it is a girl thing. Anyhow I had a lot of thinking to do. Colors are one of those things that can almost induce panic in blind people. We do not know what to say, or think when the subject comes up. I have asked several sighted people about color, but they have all been surprisingly unhelpful. My first theory on color was that it represented solidity in the sense of sight, but of course that theory soon fell. The proverbial rose colored glasses is what destroyed that theory. When you put on tinted glasses everything takes on the color on the tint of the glasses. The theory I settled on was that color must be an analogy of texture, One of course cannot have solidity without texture. The tinted glasses would be like gloves that had a certain texture, so that everything you touched would also take on the texture. And texture like color pick up emotional associations, like red would be like a sharp texture. Associations of vividness and danger cling to both. I am telling all this for two reasons. The first is to show how reluctant I was about this mission, and I also decided while luxuriating in the tub that this would be the subject of my first book. The tentative title: "The Visual Bias in Thinking". I must admit it was producing intensity. After I got out of the tub I read about Van Gogh, since that was the artist most compared to Jordan Munn, and for both the vivid colors were always a topic. Anyhow evening did come. I decided I should try to look the part, so I wore nylons, heels, short skirt and a red top. I sew in markers to tell me the color of my clothes even though I really have no idea of color, I guess it is a way to try to pass for sighted. I have found out the more I know about the sighted world the better off I am. That is why I have become a student of the sighted world, a sort of alien intruder; a blind interloper in the sighted world. He was prompt, and scared, he even seemed cool with my blindness. I guess sighted people think blind people have weird powers. With some help and instructions form me he managed to navigate me to his car. I had taken my folding cane, I only take the straight cane when I am travelling independently. We went to his place. He described to me his visions of the bat-like creatures with dog faces, I assured him I knew of these entities. After a brief interview I suggested that we venture into the dark dimension. I had the Monas Stone with me, as a matter of fact I had swallowed it after I gained possession of it, because the police were soon to be at the scene when I took possession of the Stone. Me gaining possession of the Stone had meant the death of the previous owner. Later, I found out that swallowing the Stone had been the reason the last witch-doctor who has possessed the Stone had lost his sight. The Stone becomes part of you when you swallow it. The Stone has become part of me, and would be found in my skull after I was dead. The next owner would either have to kill me or dig up my corpse to gain possession. So he took my hand, and I concentrated making a mental connection with Jordan, and accessing the dark dimension. Accessing the dark dimension is like going over a roller coaster drop, but without the G forces. He clung to me mentally. The Hounds appeared, I calmed Jordan, and learned what I needed to know from the Hounds. I brought us back, and we were again sitting in Jordan's living room. He was shaken, probably visibly, but me cue was his timid voice; he asked: "Did you learn anything that can help me?" I replied with some authority in my voice, for now he cleanly thought I was someone who could help: "I learned a lot, and shall do all I can to help" Sounding more confident than I felt. I really had learned some of the key pieces of the puzzle, but I need a lot more information. So I asked: "Can you give me a tour of your house and studio?" The reply was prompt and sure: "No problem, my house and studio are connected, We can do it now." I has to instruct him on how to lead a blind person, and encouraged him to talk; to describe everything in detail. I told him that people who go blind go through stage, there are also seem to be stages for a sighted person on interacting with a blind person. That in the first stage everything seems amazing. People have actually asked me how I comb my hair! He laughed. He was relaxing. I like him, he seemed bright, which I find attractive. The second stage is when the sighted person forgets the person is blind. Like people asking me to look at photos. He laughed again, we were getting along well. This is also the stage where the sighted person get reminded by incidents like walking into a dark room. I was impressed Jordan was a quick learner and had a wonderful sens of humor. He led me around the house describing various objects, being an artist he was wonderful at describing in detail. He even described the colors of things, I did not stop him I have found the more I know about the sighted would the better off I am. Some of the objects were gifts or belonged to his fiancee. I asked about her. He told me he had met her through Laband; that she was his niece.This started a chain of ideas in me. One of the things she had given him was a .38 caliber snub nosed revolver. I asked to "see" it. He showed me how it worked and how to load it. He also showed me where he kept it in the bedroom. We then went into the studio, by this time we were having a good time. He told me his artistic hero was Vincent Van Gogh. He described some of his pictures to me. I was reminded of the philosopher George Berkeley. Berkeley wrote about how a person has to learn to see, to use the sense of vision. That seeing is a skill, being blind is also a skill. A difficult one, especially when you are trying to compete in the sighted world. Like many blind people I used to feel a sense of lacking something compared to sighted people. Until, I realized how much more difficult skill it is being blind in a sighted world. I have dared several sighted people to try to get from their house to any place they usually walk to being blindfolded and without help, so far no one has taken the dare. An idea was beginning to form in my mind. I asked Jordan: "When is your next session with Adrian Laband?" Hi answered promptly: "Every Wednesday night, Do you think that has something to do with the visions?" " I have to investigate all possibilities" I replied. At that Jordan took me home. Before going to bed I read all I could on Van Gogh, and yes it did feel odd reading about a painter who was know for his vivid colors. When I got up the next mourning, I called Detective Steve Jenkins. Steve Jenkins has been the investigating officer of the incident when I acquired the Monas Stone. He did not trust me, he thought I lied and misled him in the investigation, and used my blindness as an alibi. Of course this was all true, but I did not know anyone else to call. He took the call and agreed to meet me. We met at the coffee house near my apartment. Steve is a good policeman in his mid thirties, I have been told he has light brown hair, and is an extremely good looking guy. After some preliminaries, there are a lot of trust issues between us. I explained my theory regarding Jordan Munn. He agreed to help me. I called Jordan up, and set up a meeting with him for that evening. We agreed to meet at the coffee house. He was there before I arrived. I like people who are punctuate, blindness make one more organized; sighted people can live with a lot more chaos in their lives. Like I said blindness is more of a skill than a disability. I asked him about his fiancee Laband's niece Genice, and he told me: "She is in New York trying to get my paintings into some of the high end galleries, and she is setting up a showing for next month of my stuff. She has taken over as my business manager." I also asked about Laband. It seems Jordan had nothing but admiration for Laband. He was the man who had brought out his talent. So I did not tell him my suspicions. Instead, I told him I wanted to spend the night to hold a vigil after his next secession, because I thought the hypnotism attracted the occult entities. So I wanted to be there monitor and protect him from them. The Sunday before the fateful Wednesday Steve came over to my apartment, he had what I asked him for. It was still awkward, he still did not trust me, but it was getting better. I confirmed his opinion that I was not helpless, he had never bought my helpless blindness act. Which I liked since I am attracted to smart men. I actually got a hug from him. I wanted to get an idea how he looked, so that is why I insisted on the hug. He was as advertised one rock hard hunk of man. The rest of the days leading up to Wednesday were uneventful. Wednesday night come, and Jordan picked me up after his session with Laband. It was late and he was tired; he could barely stay awake. Before going to bed he asked me: "Is there anything you need or want before I go to sleep?" I replied: "Did you do as I asked and kept everything where is was when I was here before? Being blind I like to know where things are, moving furniture or anything just causes me problems." I explained, of course I had another reason also. He replied that he had everything was in the same place is was when I had visited before. He went to bed and I sat on the couch in his living room. It did not take long to hear the rhythmic breathing of sleep coming from the bedroom. As soon as I was sure he was deep asleep I slipped off my shoes and went into the bedroom and made the changes I wanted to make. Never even interrupted his sleep, I had done my best to memorized the house last visit. As I said blindness is a skill, it is also a skill I am very good at. It did not take long; I heard Jordan get up. I made my way into the bedroom. I heard Jordan speak in a voice of the deepest despair I have ever herad: "The misery never ends!" Then came the sound of the gunshot it was amplified by the small room. I yelled: "Jordan are you alright?" I heard Jordan's bewildered voice: "What is happening?" I was right, I explained: " You tried to shoot yourself" Again I he spoke sounding very confused but also very agitated: "I am holding a the gun. How come I am not dead or bleeding?" I explained finally feeling confident: "I substituted blanks for the live rounds in the gun. I had a detective friend check out Adrian and Genice Laband. It turns out they are not related, in fact they are lovers, and were trying to kill you. By using a post hypnotic suggestion making you think you were Van Gogh. "misery never ends" were Van Gogh's last words. It seems your paintings are worth a lot more if you are dead." " How did you know?" he asked, again I explained: "The creatures you were having visions of the Hounds were trying to protect you, and not harm you. So I knew the danger you faced was not extra-dimensional but a danger very much of this world. The Hound by scarring you held the despair at bay." We relaxed, and later Steve called they had picked up Adrian and Genice with a phony will making Adrian the sole heir and executor of Jordan's estate and work.