All of my self-questions from 2022 so far

I copied and pasted all of my diary and dream entries into Clive Thompson’s only the questions online tool. Questions propel and expand your consciousness. Master the art of asking yourself questions.

What are the next god/guide posts? What did I learn in that lifetime and how can I bring that here? How to merge dimensions? What portal am I creating? What form are you holding now? Where is the rest of me? What is my soul reaching out toward? Am I still a stranger to myself? Why does love do this? Was that unkind? What are the consequences of love? Can my heart be boundless? Why does it hurt? Will there be love? Who is guiding me? Am I pure? What is this wilderness inside of me? What does a new beginning mean to me? What is true freedom? Who should I confess my sins to? Or can I have sovereignty over my heart, mind, body and spirit? Can I be absolved or is the freedom from needing to be absolved more than enough? Whose rules am I living by? What is worth fighting for? Is this a mistake? When is the next moon phase? He is still on the first rung of the ladder and where am I? Why do I have to get my footing again and again and again? Why can’t I start from where I was last time? Are you a comet or are you a planet? Is there anything you've been working on for many centuries? Do I have a stupid heart? What is the one thing I can control? What have we unearthed here? What kind of worship is this? What was the whale I threw out the window? How many times can I transform before I die? What is the difference between human love and divine love? How do you pray to a dead God?

“For all the supernatural lust in your eyes: BELIEVE”

Dream Journal, August 2, 2011

Disclaimer: I was 27 when I had this dream. I feel like anything written or experienced in your twenties should have a disclaimer.

I was walking the streets of San Francisco, sometimes it was Oakland. Irrelevant though, because it was acting more like an old lover. Acting as if it had forgotten me, never loved me, moved on to better things. Still, I stepped onto every curb and turned every corner trying to remember what drew me to fall in love in the first place. There was a boy, like there always is, and at every crosswalk we met. I tried walking in front of him, tried leaving him behind like so many had done to me before, but somehow we kept crossing paths. My destination/destiny became a broken-down bookstore where Spacewaves was performing. Suddenly, I knew his name was Camus and that he was their new drummer. I said, “Fine. You can have me.” Then, I dragged him into the bathroom and made out with him, like I was drunk, but I wasn’t. Not even on love, I don’t think. I left him there and as I walking out, a stranger with an Indian accent, stopped me and said, “Don't be afraid of Camus. Rule him the perversion in your life. For all the supernatural lust in your eyes: BELIEVE.” 

Note: When the Indian stranger said “perversion” he also said “purpose,” like at the same time.