I have spent more than one day of late crawling through the black sh*t at the bottom of my heart, or possibly my soul.

While down there, I turned a few revelations re. me over in the muck. I am bringing these treasures of repressed memory to light here for the first time.

I now know that the anxiety and depression that have trailed me through life since my teen years, at least, are the product of a pyschotoxin, a subtle poison introduced into my mind via a complex set of post-hypnotic suggestions. These suggestions were planted in my young mind as the main component of some form of ritual child abuse, the perpetrators of which remain a mystery to me.

Parents, or the clever simulacrums which replaced them years ago, are of course suspect. Possibly the suggestions were implanted via television - a program, laid over my natural psychocerebral wiring, beamed through my eyes as light waves while I watched cartoons. The forces behind this atrocity remain a mystery.

As does the function, and ultimate purpose, of the hypnotic suggestions themselves, which seem to be cued by certain sounds, words and/or emotional states. Identifying the trigger has been difficult because the actual result of the switch brought on by the suggestion is difficult to identify. There seems to be a definite and negative alteration, a general darkening of perception, that is present in what I refer to as the post hypnotic state, or "switch state". Certain physical actions, such as moving from room to room, touching the walls as if in search of some secret panel, also seem to be cued.

To what end I don't know. But identifying the trigger, explaining finally these black moods and bizarre acts, was itself significant. Now I know.

I think the poison program has been itself infected, thank goodness, by my own natural spirit light - augmented, I am blessed to say, by a tiny Buddha mind growing golden within my own.

There are others, though, who have not light and light not. The Demon Regent Asmodeus, for instance. Was it he who appeared in a pre-sleep vision? Or was that immense arachnid blackness only my imagining of Asmodai. Is there a difference?

Could the poison program in my mind be of demonic origin? Or was Asmodai trying to warn me?

Of what?

There is a tapping sound skittering my skull as I type. Is it only my fingers on the keyboard? No. It's in my head. Sounds like Morse code. Damn it! I don't know Morse code. Gotta do a Google search. . .