I think aometimes really hard, was I the stalker of Wilber or was I stalked?
Funny satori happened to me years ago, only one. Long description is not needed. I asked myaelf what am I? I named this admirement, fogginess all around, breath coming out from stomach. Breath in, breth out. Perfect experience. But I could not tell the truth, cause I was too much addicted to drugs. And the answer was always another strange therapy. Conversation over conversation. So I unconsciously mastered conversations during therapy.
Honestly, I dont get what or who am I. I get a bit I-I aspect. But maybe its i-I in my case. I would want to elevate the other I as much it is possible. So I am scared to think for myself and speak up. When I see people taking ‘so concered and intelligent’ comments I just toy with words to make them look dumb. Then they back out obviously.
Most probably I am really torned. I remember this from abc of psychology that levelling up and down is the same trajectory and levelling should be adjusted to present moment so the fluency matters, not up or down.
I throw out of myself another…
I started this draft I don’t remember when, too exalted I finally reached this community. I cannot really explain why I was scared to pay 100 dollars per year. I thought I would be too much exposed. That is a huge LOL now. I pay 1 dollar a month now as for starters. What happened? No one knows, me too.
That satori was something - long story short - seeing everything literally as one, visually, so let’s say you look at the branches of tree and you see everything in front of you, let’s say 15% of your eye-sight in this circle and branches with the background, whatever it is, seems to be one image. Depth of seeing is lost, true, sober and so pure and simple, beyond any words. Even those I type. You will type it differently or You typed it already somewhere or wrote or anything. Or experienced more than once. I had satori only once. And it was not through work as meditation. Knowledge + high need + drugs. Drugs overload.
If I meditate to much (more than 30 min a day) I get fury of all furies. I wanna kill with anger. That’s that.
Most recently, another long story short, I told my girlfriend I think I am a pedophile. Why? I am scared of such words, I know too much stories or I imagine people who are too described in interviews that way or just depicted in obtainable movies. Without literal presentation. But implicit stuff. Some random example: movies from 60. 70. maybe 80.s, some harsh movies from documentalists or directors with high psychological background - they know the devils eye that can be ‘produced’ or developed, due to, let’s say, such tendencies that cannot be spoken or done. Everyone knows why, I guess. I recommend some UK document, it was directed years back, with such people that are really socialized. Men/women. Wisely done.
So I was scared mainly of the word ‘pedophile’ and that’s that. When I told it loudly, had support, it was done. So I wrote a poem. It was 2 months ago, I think. Nope, checked it now. 3 weeks. 
Pedophylliac
I quote the samples like
The lord made me maniac
Im gods pedophylliac
Twisted past brainlesslike
Adore the simplelike
Joy endlesslike
Simple thoughts of shady minds
I love and leave the god
I must present this like
I want this spreadedlike
Elevate the schizolike
Love whats left me liike
To do list evaporatelike
I must i feel this like
The joy is opensource like
Adore and give it back
My thoughts kill me right
I share instant like
Divine be widen like
Divine is deep behind
Alphabet be like
My gods dreamylike
I see whats left behind
Your faces image god like
The voice be spread about
Language be torn around
I see you all around
The time is up i stop it now
Mister tell me wisdom like
I know the death the time is up
Stirr the mind and do whats right
The love of time explain it right
Driven gods embodied like
The throne just exact
I know you all right
Be torn and act right
Not a word i say tonight
The mind is going up
Be filled with yours black
Then turn the black white
Direct writing, from my notes. I have more poems, few English, mostly my native language. Easier, that one is really heavy, I know.
I don’t really need the fb.
edit. I cried a bit writing this. Rage as well. When I sing it in my mind.
edit2. Please, I need some wise ideas how to put that in my CV. Pdf format. (*) 