the 365 days of intrusive thoughts

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 glitch back

I thrive in semiotics.

Ever since the universe whiplashed me in 2020, I’ve been communing with it. Or with God. Or the Source. Whatever label you prefer.

And no, I’m not religious. My parents are, and I spent years in church as one of those sponsored kids, but I never really believed. God felt like Santa or a polite ghost—vague, theoretical. I guess, back then, I believed in God the way Nietzsche did: as an idea too grand to die, but too abstract to worship.

And no, I'm actually not very religious — although my parents are kinda religious. I got involved with church since I was one of those sponsored kids but I never believe in God. Like - uhm sure, maybe he's like a ghost or Santa.

It was like the first time I learned Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. My brain could grasp it — sure, but I hadn’t felt it. Understanding something is different from embodying it.

When I had a self-proclaimed penpal in Korea (who was an idol, really. I sent fancafe fanletter), I sent a message at 3:00 a.m. Manila time and he received it at 4:00 a.m.—even though I’d sent it a minute ago. I was mind-blown. What the heck? Suddenly relativity wasn’t an equation—it was lived.

Of course, you’ll shrug: “Time zones, duh.”

Exactly. That’s the difference between knowing and experiencing: when every cell in you goes, Damn, Einstein was right.

That’s the same vibe I later had with God—or the Universe.

The communion began after a spectacularly ridiculous breakdown: the KPOP idol penpal ignored me. My rational self knew it was absurd, but my body staged a rebellion—grieving like we’d been married for three lifetimes.

I’d never cried like that before. Not for my father, not for my brother. But this K-pop idol ghosted me and suddenly I was fasting and weeping like an ancient tragedy. Half-amused, half-WTF, I eventually came out the other side… different.

During that ego-disintegration phase (and yes, I dove into the whole twin-flame rabbit hole—story for another day), the world got weird. Thoughts turned into coincidences on demand. I’d think of a song and, boom, the bus driver’s radio played it. Signs everywhere, like psychic fast food.

That was my spiritual awakening.

Five years later, I basically have God on speed dial.

Still, the God-state isn’t constant. It’s peaceful, yes, but also eerily close to death. Too expansive, too dissolving, very floaty. I love Earth, chaos, and coffee too much to stay in perpetual 5D lalaland mode.

These days I live through Jung’s archetypes. My life is one big mythos; even commuting on EDSA feels like a scene in the Yana-verse. When you live in symbols, the inner world mirrors the outer. Dreams leak into daylight. Sometimes I visit places I’ve already seen asleep, like déjà-vu in HD.

I dreamed of having sex with and marrying Dionysus after walking through a portal, and the next day I was taking Egyptian ritual baths in another dream—only to find myself doing the same thing at Ace Water Spa in waking life. Then came the shrooms under a Blood Moon, where I ended up giving a full-on TED Talk channeling divine entities for five straight hours.

The wild part? All of that happened within a single week.

A few days later, the book I’d ordered before all this chaos arrived—thanks to a random recommendation from “Heaven Sent Honey” on YouTube. It was The Sacred Prostitute. I opened it and realized I’d accidentally reenacted the entire high-priestess initiation from its pages. And yes, Dionysus was right there in the text.

The even wilder part? The K-pop idol’s English name is Dionysus.

No shit, I was so confused—like, out of all the Greek gods, I had to fuck him? Couldn’t it have been Hermes instead? But dream-Dionysus looked like a hot Latino guy with long hair and abs, so honestly, why not. It just makes sense after reading the book.

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▶︎•၊၊||၊|။|||||။၊|။• Glitch Back by Kamitune

This songs slaps so hard because I thought this was Japanese English, until I heard Korean and I was so confused. It's Japanese Korean and English song. Damn, so good.