From the Valley to the Fountain – Chapter One: To the Original Lovestone

CHAPTER ONE – To the Original Lovestone

I cannot claim that I wrote this for just you, Althea. This is a journey of my being that I need to fragment and scatter and hone, though I will use you as the contialitic and shoulful cleat for this chapter. You will probably not see what I’ve written, and it’s probably the case that it’s only a few others that shall read this also.

I had the idea to use this book as a testament of past loves, and friends, that were known before I sitched out of Edmonton, though ignoring what happened after SFU should not yet be revealed. Some before would say that I don’t even have the ability to love and that I’m just another actor playing a part. My obsessive nature carries forward with layers and ideas of what I thought, including a few that I cared for.

I am still finding my own path to true connection, and though also not yet knowing the one I grow old with, there are some key people that help form me.

You, Thea, were the one that I thought I loved before finding and falling for Natalie.

In the first two books, I referred to a spiritual relic that I had that was s stone that I called the Metamorphic Heart. The stone was in the shape of a heart, though had a corner broken off. I had found the stone in a stone circle cast on a forest path near the townhouses at SFU, though I broke the stone circle and kept the Metamorphic Heart. I’ve not known ever if the stone circle that I broke was cast by you, though note you were Wiccan, so it very well could have been your circle.

I had used the Metamorphic Heart as a metaphor of my own heart. The full stone was used to represent my heart being for Natalie, the True Lovestone, with the corner broken off the heart/stone symbolizing you, Thea, as the Original Lovestone. You were the first one that I used to think or say (and believed) that I loved. Teal (my girlfriend in high school) might not like that, yet she also seemed to intuit in high school that I didn’t know how to care.

I’m not sure, yet, that I have ever yet grown the ability to fully care and honour another person. I have recently been too self-focused and (partly) isolated. I also know through much of my life that I also have lived in some exquisite amounts of fear, even if not from my schizophrenic diagnosis. I think of Ryan Jackson and how he had called me ‘Rob, the schizophrenic MC’ though may write more about (or to) him later.

The ability to love is the one thing that I want to foster, curate, develop and discover fully.

The years of obsession, delusion, and infatuation for some gals has been with me since the point of when you and I last spoke. We lost our contact between in 1998-1999 when I was brought back to Edmonton to the psych ward. I know I had lost you some time before then, though poetically, it seems that I have shed some layers of my heart many years before coming to know my part.

I’ve not forgotten about you, though, or some of the other friends that I’ll write to and about. I also haven’t forgotten the mistakes that I made that showed a lack or respect, yet still also know I did honour you in some ways. I don’t know if I was welcome or not, though the way I’ve told the story to some doesn’t make sense to me either… discrepancies of timelines of my own course of life.

I spent seven semesters at SFU and Douglas College in the time immediately before my Mom and Dad had brought me to the hospital. I was living in New Westminster when I went to your Cornwall address, though it was after New West that I lived again on SFU campus. It’s strange because I seem to recall that it was after New West that I have the memory of the two paper airplanes. The two airplanes landed outside my Louis Riel House home, and it was what was written on those two paper airplanes that guided me to choose you as the one to be with.

The two airplanes guided me with secret instruction written upon them. The cryptic hint and suggestion that I could choose ANY girl to be with, and I had chosen you, Thea. It was after (and during) these points of time where my actions lost your (and others) friends’ respect and friendship. I got deep into the drugs, though the weird part is, that’s before I got into the chemicals. The acid, meth, and ecstasy were years later after my experiences on SFU campus (and did some extremely severe damage to my mind and being).

I wonder of some of the shared links that we had when at SFU. People like Chris Seltenrich and Jason Yamashita. I know you and Jason were a couple at one point, though that’s part of the story of the home that I dubbed as Area 51. Area 51 is the house near Metrotown where, on a mushroom trip, I had thought I teleported. The home also held some other friends from the memories of SFU and Douglas College. The seven semesters after leaving my Edmonton home are a formative part of the future that I came to know.

You also were linked to Dave Clark. He visited SFU when I lived at Shell House and was one that I wanted to pair you with after I became Natalie focused. I’m also sure I had told Peter Feldstein about you. Peter was to be paired with his dream gal (who I named the Windy Lovestone) and was to pick me up in the limo during the ‘freight nights’. The ‘freight nights’ were two or three nights I had just before leaving Vancouver to Edmonton. I had been trapped in downtown Vancouver with no way to get back to Burnaby Mountain.

An odd part is I don’t know how much I told Brent Ross about you, even though he was my best friend for some time during that period of my life. Brent was a primary friend when I lived at Shell House during the second semester at SFU. Brent and I had a lot of drug trips on campus, and was one with the nickname ‘Gimp’, while I was dubbed ‘Gump’.

It was during my first semester at SFU when you and I had first met, Thea. I had thought you were a black gal when I read your name written on the door. Since others don’t know who you are, I should comment to them that you had blond hair back then (and showing I didn’t see you so much for who you were then, I don’t even recall your eye colour). I remember Holly’s hair colour and eyes, though… Holly was one of the most attractive gals I’ve ever met! Red dreadlocks tied up on her head with green eyes and a very shapely figure.

I didn’t know back in 1996 that you would become one of the first girls that I would get obsessed and over focused on. I rewind back to when we first met and how you already had a boyfriend. I had lacked basic decency, and I don’t think I fully understood that you were loyal to him. I will not reveal your secrets, though know that I do remember how I breached the boundary of physical contact after we smoked a joint the first time.

I remember the last semester of the seven semesters before being locked up in the Edmonton hospital. We had lost contact through time and distance (and my actions) by then. I had missed you. My yearning for you extended through my delusions to another gal I met on Water Street. I don’t recall the girl’s real name, though her lovestone name was the Sea Lovestone.

I recall believing you (Thea) were channeling through the Sea Lovestone when I would speak with her on the phone. I imagined what she was saying to me was getting spliced through the phone channels. I recall how odd the phone systems could be in the past; how different phone lines could cross and we’d hear other conversations. I know I had already lost you by that point. My heart was (and still is) stupid and foolish.

I know I was chained… I think I still am, sometimes… I’m still not clear about understanding or thinking of the consequence my actions. My obsessive nature has not treated me well through the years.

My drug life at SFU is a time that I call my ‘happy hippy fun days’. The interactions and people on SFU campus were filled with so many rad and eclectic people that had their own (sort of) life movies going on. A lot of those people knew how much I was on about you back then, and I think of people like Crazy Mike and Matt X knowing about my infatuation with you. I can almost hear their advice to just chill. Epic saga, though… “Sooo cinematic!!”- Dave Clark.

I had two other drug lives after we met. When I went back to Edmonton to Grey Nun’s hospital, I spent a while in the psych ward. I don’t know how long I was in the psych ward, though it was winter, and I was released in 1999. It was after my first trip to the hospital that I got involved in street life. It was not totally happy hippy fun days like SFU, though I called myself a cyber hippy. After a summer of being a Twinkie (a person who hangs out with street people, though lives with their parents) I was kicked out of my mom’s home for bringing street people over.

Even now, two decades after you and I first met, I can recall my own depravity about how much I fell for you. Later in my life, I started to focus on Natalie, and even though a month or so ago (October 2016) I had claimed Natalie was the source of my mental illness, that (I think) is not fully true. It was the drugs and my experiences even before Natalie where I started to really get messed up.

This book will be part of the process of how I need to ‘let go’ and also forgive myself for the atrocious things and actions that I have done in my past. I still am messed up and have my crack thoughts (invasive offensive thoughts), and what I also know is that I may need to crack into my encapsulated memories. I have too much hidden and not processed, even to and from my own self. Some things need to be resolved.

I’m sad that I lost you, though I hope you are living happily now. You had cared well for me, and my infantile heart. It seemed like you were following what you thought YOU needed to do, and that it was at the whim and wish of others and not your own heart. I thought that you were going to give your body up to me, though I sensed you didn’t want to, so kept myself from doing so. This is where I’ve thought I loved you more than a physical relationship and had respected you by not having intercourse with you. I don’t know if it was an honest want of yours to sleep with me, or if you were just a sacrificial offering.

My memories from much of my past before the year 2000 hold as visual recollections. They are only a mere guidance to what I have forgotten. The people that I write to in this book are different points of care from friendship and relationship, and it is true a few of them knew each other. You, though, Thea, were one of the first ones (other than Jessica McKormick) that I had seemed to think I’d loved.

I want to break past some of my fears about loving and caring. I have gotten obsessed and over focused on some people while neglecting others. I’ve not learned fully how to appreciate another for who and what they are, instead of how I like them, or even my gain from the friendship. I also note that some friends from the far distant past hold stories of their own that I may not be given the blessing of knowing. If this book and series is meant to be about my heart and the friendships and connections that help(ed) form me, then I see you, Thea, as the one to start from.

I don’t know if it was your stone circle that I broke to steal the Metamorphic Heart. You were Wiccan, and I know your own spirituality was focused on such things as rituals, stones, and magic. It was the case that my stone park was torn down in reciprocation, and it was my intent to guard the new circle as an overseer. I had gone back to that path on SFU campus to see where the lovestone city and park had been, though that area had been torn apart and down by heavy machinery.

Why is it I have gotten so obsessed with some people? Why have I seemed to fall into infatuation instead of tending dear hearts with honest care? Why have I been so money focused and not having faith that I will earn my life? How can I learn to dream and actually share and learn (and teach) how to love? How can I free myself of the shackles and chains that have held me back from really loving life and being exceptionally glad to live?

I am alone. I accept that. I also note that there are some that will be visitors of my home from time to time. It’s been almost 15 years since I left Vancouver to where I live now. So much life and time that seems to only hint at the inner journey my own being has been on. I have formed some written work, and recorded music, though, after the 15 years in this town, I don’t seem to yet understand how I can (and hopefully shall) get another 15 years further into the future. I do note, though, that the chains of Natalie are not quite so tight about my being.

I hope you have found your spouse, Thea. I hope you allowed yourself the beauty and brilliance of your own children. I recall how kind and true you were and know you’d be a blissful and loving mother and wife. You were so beautiful and groovy and kind! You also were a dear gal that I shouldn’t have put myself towards. I heard from Jesse Itzler about ‘the right girl at the right time’ being the key idea.

You may not have been (for you to I) the right girl, and it’s clear that I definitely focused first on you at the wrong time. You had a boyfriend when I moved on you, and you did make the correct choice to leave the room and not continue. It’s the case that I know it was a transgression I cannot change. In my life now, I also remind myself to fortify bonds with couples; To strengthen their bonds and be one to ensure they hold true.

I have so often found myself, and my lessons, in life as being after the point of the mistake. I’ve still not clearly understood in advance the consequence of my actions, and I still am flawed and too often overthinking about my crack thoughts and mistakes. I also want to not think so much of my own benefit, and instead do that is good or helpful for another for their goodness. I have tried to create purpose and value in and of myself without fully recognizing that I am still way to selfish. Teal knew that back when she and I were in high school.

You do remind me that I have a story, though. You also remind me that I have often wanted a relationship with a gal a bit too strongly at times. Maybe it’s the years of my own depravity that keep me from having a girlfriend. Through the past few years, I’ve often said: “I can’t even afford myself, let alone a girlfriend.” And there is truth to that too.

I’ve also held beliefs that my own salacious actions are partly the cause of my own lack. If I am not behaving properly, then I seem to believe that I should not be granted prosperity. This is my own intuition or idea that we also DO get what we deserve.

There also is the belief that people that are prosperous EARN it, and I may not have been doing the correct things for myself to earn. Others may not agree with me that those with much have earned, though I note that I also haven’t heeded to well to some other people’s opinions.

I do feel remorse for how I’ve been sometimes. Not just with you, Thea, though also with how I’ve traveled so many years and still feel like I’ve brought myself up to the point of being a Nihilist. I have called out to God, I have thought things and people hold value, though I still am isolated and too self-focused to find that maybe there is a world for which I am to be fully integrated. I have in the past been told that I try too hard, and I am impatient and wanting to push the process.

I also know now that I knew so very little about you. I could tell you about what I thought of you and tell you how I felt to know you (and how saddening it was to lose you), though the facts of who you are (and were) have been lost to the sands of time. You, Thea, I think were the first girl that I really did love. This also reminds me of how unhealthily obsessive I can be when I fall for a girl.

Regarding other parts of my life, I still am an addict. I may not be drinking lots of alcohol or smoking dope (or needles or sniffles) though my addiction to cigarettes is also a deep dirty thing. I had the thought the other day as cigarettes being ‘an income inhibitor’. Tobacco also is a drug that I’ve relied heavily upon since I was in high school. I don’t yet have a full understanding of the psychological reasons for my addiction, though still shall find the source.

When you, Jackie Charles, Gary Bang, and I lived together, I would love smoking cigarettes with Gary! I recall his brand; Dunhill Special Reserve. Gary was so cool! He emanated such a calm and powerful and focused attitude. I remember him and Janet and how I’d help him with his Physics assignments. I also remember playing Mario 64 on the Nintendo 64 with Gary in Cowichan House. That was the first semester I was at SFU before Jackie got me kicked out.

Why didn’t I respect your boundaries? What was I even searching for? What was it that actually brought you to want to interact with me? What happened to you after I chose to not take your body when I thought you didn’t want to give it to me? If you were the one gal that was my first infatuation, still where had my obsessive nature stemmed from?

I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know that I ever will. Writing this brief chapter to you has dredged up a few many things that don’t feel good in my being, spirit, and soul. Within me, I find that I have been, accurately, a sad, depraved, and sorry soul. I haven’t (decades later) yet learned to be honourable and respectful. I’ve still been too focused on myself, my wants, and my faults. I want to clarify the hows and the whys.

I know I am very neurotic and insecure sometimes. I know that there are lots of fragments of despair in my being, and I am afraid of that held within me. I have an intuition that there are so many shards of filth and obsessive waste that are imbedded in my being. I want to purge and cleanse these things. Bringing them up and then setting them free through the keys is part of the process that lets me become aware, acknowledge, and accept them. If there are pieces of myself to be disgusted at or about, I want not to suppress them so that they fester not further. Writing for me is a healing process.

I don’t know if there ever was a ‘right time’ with you, or even if you could have been ‘the right girl’. I still know that I could probably never have been the ‘right guy’.

I note that writing of my past will find some good things. I may not be able to talk with you or some of the people that this book is written to, though I do want to reclaim my memories and pluck some points of ultra glad memory. I wonder if it’s worth divulging ten points of angst and abomination to find a shred or two of divine goodness and gladness. We shall find out.

I pay homage to you, Thea. Even if I am never to meet you again, I will not forget you. You were the first divine beauty that threw my heart and mind into the blender of the world. Even though I never clearly understood who you were, or what your soul felt like, I know that you are one who was there near the start of the spin cycle. Thank you for respecting yourself by not falling into my muddle.

Even if there was a small point in time you would have been open to a future with me, we know clearly that time never came. Even if a lesson from you is that I do have an extreme potential to care for someone, the other lesson and skill to be learned and focused is that it’s not all about me. The lesson is to understand, honour, and care for the other person for their own good, and not just from the point of my own want.

I’m not certain who I should form the next chapter for. I feel drained and somber to know how I left and lost you. Even if you read this, there’s no way of me repairing the damage I had done through decades ago. I pray well, though, that your heart is still whole and glad, and connected to others who do know you’re an amazing true.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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