Eat a dick Civilisation

Dear things reading this,
I have relocated to the Northern Rivers Area of New South Wales, Australia. For those of you who do not know what this area is like, it is also known as ‘The Rainbow Region’ — a scattered system of little townships spread across interweaving rivers and an extinct volcano rim, settled mostly by hippies in the 1970's. It’s really fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful, you have to use cheap expletives to highlight how fucking beautiful it truly is. Waterfalls everywhere. Sweeping escarpments. Lush, subtropical rainforest. Oceans of deep green stretching in every direction forever. Red, rich dirt you just want to bury yourself in and grip with your hands and squeeze until the bloody mud bleeds through the gaps in between your fingers compelling you to yell, ‘I’M SORRY!!! FORGIVE ME GAIA FOR THE INDISCRETIONS THAT I HAVE PERFORMED UPON YOUR POCKMARKED FACE!!!’ 
It’s also the only area of Australia where i have not encountered any prejudice. Quite the opposite in fact. Everyone smiles at you for no apparent reason. I think because they are happy or something. 
Remember when everyone was kind of happy?

I decided to move up here during a level 4 Acacia journey in a Mullumbimby Air b and b rental about a month ago, when the Acacia spirit said to me, ‘You are always happy when you are here, why don’t you just be happy now?’ 
And i thought, ‘Yeah.’ 
 It was true. Why did i always live with the idea that i would be happy later? When had this poisonous, self-flagellating, conditioned idea of perpetual delayed gratification so prevalent here in the West taken root in the soil of my mind? 
I reached deep into my brain, gripped the stalk of this venomous vine, tore it out in one swift tearing motion and threw it on the compost patch outside the window to rot in the sun, wind and rain. 
‘OK VOICE FROM A PLANT THAT I HEAR IN MY HEAD - I SHALL DO EXACTLY AS YOU TELL ME!!!’ I yelled, making a promise then and there to move as soon as possible.

The other reason for my move is that the Northern Rivers is the main hotbed of underground plant medicine research here in Australia and it was time for me to get deeper into the wormhole. I was informed that most people in the area had drunk Ayahuasca at least once, or were regular drinkers. I guess that explained all the smiling everywhere. I thought something was a bit strange going on here. I had noticed everyone here smiling at me, in the streets, in the cafe, at the bus stops, in the public toilets… This strange, benevolent grin like they were privy to a secret they wanted to share with me, that may or may not involve large scale pagan group sex under the full moon.
‘What is this a fucking cult?’ I wondered after the 15th smile was launched at me like a cruise missile of love, this time across the cafe outdoor area, from a sensual, middle-aged woman with a piece of Egyptian jewellery adorning her throat. Her Ankh caught a ray of sunshine and it’s reflection buried itself deeply in my unconscious, triggering a brief past life memory of when we were brother and sister platypi cavorting in the rivers in far north Queensland eating succulent crayfish all day…
I smiled back, the unfamiliar muscle movements entailed in such an facial expression causing dead skin to flake and fall from around the edges of my mouth and to the floor. 
I felt… Something. 
Perhaps there was nothing strange about this smiling behaviour at all. Perhaps these people were actually behaving in a perfectly relaxed, natural fashion people were supposed to be behaving, back in the day when the overwhelming forces of the Archon matrix hadn’t crushed everyone into weird, sharp edged shapes that were deemed most convenient to the running of the capitalist consumerist machine. Perhaps it was really my stony-faced city armour mask that was the misnomer here. Perhaps it was my conditioned suspicion of happy people that was the abnormality. I think that’s what really struck me with the people around here, most of them seem happy, relaxed and content. How long had it been since i had witnessed this kind of behaviour from people en masse? By chance the previous week, on my way to a first aid course, i had been tangled up in the morning city rush hour in Sydney. It had been a long time since i had personally witnessed this strange urban sight that to most people was a daily routine for the majority of their lives. What cruel and unusual punishment i thought, staring at the faces around me in the train carriage. It’s not that they even looked unhappy and stressed, although some undoubtedly did look that way, what struck me the most about them, was the distinct absence or at least suppression of any feeling at all, other than a kind of resignation to that certain way of being as the only option out there. And also on a side note — what the fuck is the deal with ties? Why do people wear those stupid things? What purpose do ties really serve? Who invented them and why? Who commissioned their widespread dissemination? Other than as a kind of neck-tethered napkin to wipe errant food scraps and stains from your face, their design seems completely bereft of any other functional purpose other than to serve as a physical symbol of one’s servitude to the Dark Lord.
 But maybe that’s me. I have admittedly lived a blessed, spoilt life. Aside from a few scattered islands of employment a few months in length, I have been, at least by the definition of society, serially unemployed for the past 35 years of my life (I do prefer the term prematurely retired or Self unemployed however). But who created this idea of unemployment anyway? Apparently it was ‘The fucking Capitalists.’ as some homeless man who bore a spitting image to Karl Marz had yelled at me from the safety of his clothing bin home the other day. I could hear some sense in his ravings. Were all the indigenous tribes of this Earth technically considered unemployed scum, prior to arrival of the genocidal colonial egomaniacs, often mistaken for Western civilisation?
Yes they were a bunch of filthy, lazy, unemployed, bludging scumbags wasting their lives hunting and foraging and being human before they were thankfully liberated from their freedom by the enlightened white Europeans and forced at bayonet point to enter by their own free will into the Western system.
 My point is i don’t even know what day it is anymore. Weekends are the times when there seems to be more people milling about in the hours of sunlight. I go by lunar cycles now. My time is now divided into when there is a big moon in the sky and when there is not much moon in the sky and a few phases in between. Besides, everyone wearing a good quality tinfoil hat knows the currently used Gregorian calender is merely a conspiracy instituted by the Archon control system that was once disguised as the Christian church to keep us disconnected from rhythms of nature so we are easier to control and manipulate to their own ends. And I know this as a definitive fact because it was transmitted directly into my brain by a highly enlightened wasp at sunset during a recent session of remote viewing.
 Anyways I will be living on my friend’s farm/ pagan love cult in Nimbin for the forseeable future, focusing on the medicines, Jedi training, social deconditioning and the veggie patch. 
 See you there. X