Nothing Like Home

It had been a long, unbearable last couple of weeks. My mental health was going downhill as my vibrations followed due to moving into my family's estate after a relationship that took everything from me. I didn't want to, but it was my last resort. With a green thumb that runs in my family, we never went to the local market for produce, we were convinced that we were feeding ourselves nutritional foods that no one could tamper with. We were growing our own food in our greenhouse and had a private water well. My family harvested all types of fruit baring plants, including psychoactive plants.

The National News broadcasts consisted of "hugest pandemic they have seen in record history." "Foreign affairs had failed, expect war." "Stay home, stay safe." I was never really one to watch the news, I always believed their stories were jaded and manipulated out of proportion to scare and control the population. As a domesticated species, our natural reaction is to panic and overstock on goods to get through troubled times. We resort to greed; we don't care to think about the other people who may need these goods to survive as well. It all boiled down to survival of the fittest, with the fittest being wealthy.

The smart ones grabbed seeds and the bare minimum to tie them over until their crops had matured and were ready for harvest. Everyone else stock piled perishable goods and other short lived products. It was too late when everyone had finally caught on. The seeds you find displayed on the gondolas at your local market held nothing but flower seeds at this point. All the shelves were wiped clean, carts were scattered all over the place, it looked like a complete ghost town.

There were no riots yet; everyone was too busy being blindly imprisoned to their homes. My intuition told me not to hold my breath on that, someone will catch on sooner or later and fight back for our rights of free will.

It took a couple months before everything had cooled down enough to where we were no longer suffocated with fear, just enough time for the elites to assemble a plan. Over the duration of those months it felt like the whole country was part of the Birdbox movie; we were instructed not to go or look outside, if you wanted to do anything it had to be with the company you were quarantining with and under your roof. Deadly assault was the consequence if we didn't abide by their rules and regulations.

Moon gazers, such as myself, couldn't be separated from the sky. At night, I would look out of the attic window and have my routine conversation with the moon. During that period of time, something weird was going on with the sky, it looked busy, like flights were still active, but even more so now. The mist that appeared to be coming from the crafts in the sky shimmered in the moon light like glitter was being released to coat the Earth. It had rained literally twenty-four seven for months, but no flooding had occurred.

At this point, I was feeling so spiritually stuck, I wanted to pay a visit to Home. My mother had given me the family recipe for Ayahuasca and the heirloom that had been in the family for uncountable decades.

"It'll keep you safe in your travels, my love" my mother said with assurance.

I saw that she, and the rest of the family, were under stress from the surrounding environment. It was all over their faces, their body language, but most painfully in their eyes. It was like they knew something but wouldn't share the details; maybe it was for my best interest, you know how parents can be.

That night, I had assembled a ceremonial comfort area for my travels. Candles were lit, binaural frequencies blasting through my surround sound system at a bearable volume, lots of pillows and blankets that constructed a pallet on the ground, and a lined trash can in reaching distance for potential vomit. The only thing that was missing, was a fresh brewed cup of Aya.

I downed the cup, laid back to get comfortable, and blasted off after a few minutes. Right off the bat I was seeing geometric shapes and patterns in my eyelids. Going further into it, I was confronted by a light figure that held a gentle welcoming that was filled with love. As I gravitated towards the light, I realized that I was a light figure too. I followed the light down a tunnel that looked like a mural of in-action scenes from my current life, right in front of my eyes! At the end of the tunnel was what looked like a council. Getting closer, I realized more and more who they were, I recognized them from somewhere.

"Pictures, pictures! I recognized these people from pictures!" I thought to myself. "It's my family!"

I was so happy to get to meet the people I've heard so many stories about since I was young. They looked happy to see me, I felt completely safe around them. They started communicating to me telepathically; telling me about the ancestral curses that I had been living through on the karmic wheel.

"You have the answer, you have the key, to change all of this for yourself, and help the world. You have the missing piece, all you have to do is recognize it."

It felt like time didn't exist in this realm, everything that happened, will happen, and is happening, was all in the now. I felt the silver rope tugging around my waist like it was time to go back to Earth. I said my goodbyes, and told them I would be back.

I had the best experience with my ancestors, my vibrations had finally risen again. I couldn't wait to go back home to share the newly obtained knowledge with everyone! I leapt off the cloud with every ounce of excitement in me, full of confidence that what I had just learned held potential to change the world, all I had to do was find the missing piece. My excitement immediately dissipated the second my eyes opened.

"What is this place? This can't be right. How long was I out?"

Dead silence surrounded me, dust covered every surface, and a stomach turning odor lingered in the air. I went to check my phone to see the date and time, it was powerless so I plugged it in to charge. I checked the recipe sheet my mother had given me, and compared it to the ratio of ingredients I put in the actual mixture.

"Shit, I put too much dimethyltryptamine. Was I in a coma?"

My immediate thought was to go let my mother know I was okay, she was the only one aware that I held the recipe. I opened the door to what used to lead from my room to the rest of the house, and what I saw created a strong gravitational pull that connected my knees to the floor. Floating debris filled my lungs as I cried in complete disbelief. Burnt tree stumps, piles of ash, fallen buildings, and unidentifiable vehicles painted the entire landscape around me.

Everything and everyone I knew, no longer existed.

My tears were the only source of water near me that was drinkable; the well looked dry as a bone, so I began to scavenge. In my barefooted travels, I heard a crunch followed by a stabbing sensation in my foot. I expected to see blood drawing from my body, but instead saw something that shattered my heart and mended it at the same time. It was a necklace, but not just any necklace; it was the heirloom my mother had just given me before my travels, the heart shaped locket that had been passed down many generations in my family, the very locket that held the missing piece that my ancestors had just told me was the answer to change the world.