Book Of Kassandra (or, Loh! She doth fleximitise me)

For millennia, humankind have looked on enviously at their agility saturated apey cousins. The way they can touch their grippy toes without bending their knees or making that obligatory groan even though you’re in your twenties. We could only dream.

But Loh! There existeth a woman so graceful and heavenly that she hath uploadeth free yoga on YouTube.

This gift of a soul is Kassandra. Her pulpit? ‘Yoga with Kassandra’. Her diocese? YouTube.

I do hope my lack of any kind of knowledge of the admin and management structures of the church aren’t coming through…

Whatever your mood (foul most likely), Kassandra has got you covered!

Want to lie on the floor with a blanket and pillows but it’s exercise? Want to break your toes whilst repeating affirmations? Want to do so much downward facing dog ass in the air that your neighbours get you done for indecent exposure? Yoga with Kassandra.

Testify! Maybe three years ago I was just another leper of biblical fame. Sure, I was thin, tanned, youthful and downright sexy as fuck but inside I carried a festering knowing. I was stiff as a board.

Any unlucky sailor on shore leave who ran into me at the docks spent his next god knows how long at sea feeling very much cheated. I could barely get on all fours and forget about “arch your back babe” – it wasn’t happening.

This was surely the work of the devil! A bangable but boring bending boy?! A fuckable fella frightened of fracturing?

But then, like a burning bush of maybe a wet basket, Kassandra called to me.

I bean warrior twoing and posing like a giant child. I catted. I cowed.

And behold! I am now a moderately mobile man!

And so I spread the good news to you. Kassandra has uploaded! Go and check her out, it’s awesome fun and genuinely soooo good for you in every way.

I’m in no way affiliated with ‘Yoga with Kassandra’ nor am I advertising her for my own gain. The above has been purely my own ideas and experiences.


Fair Weather Spinster

I’m a lot to deal with and seriously not an obvious choice for a husband. There I said it.

It’s so true though. If you’ve read any of my other posts you’ll be getting a picture of just how potentially batshit I am.

Now, sometimes this “batshitness” I referenced can masquerade as quirky and that can be cute I suppose but what I can’t hide is the fact that I’m pretty annoying. I get on my own nerves regularly and find myself saying aloud “Oh for fuck sake, what is actually wrong with you?!” whilst late and looking for my car keys YET AGAIN.

Why oh why don’t you just put them on the hook? Oh yeah because that would be a sensible place you freaking moron. Oh right yeah good one; of course they’re in your bed, why wouldn’t you put them there?!

Anyway. This was all fine because my older sister was massively single and had no perceivable romantic dalliance on her horizon in the slightest. Thank goodness! We could be spinsters together; both sharing the burden of those horrendous “Got a boyfriend yet?” questions or, as a neighbour put it, “Got any add ons?”.

Well the bitch has sold me down the river big time by meeting and falling head over heels in love with him. Like he’s all that with his lovely personality and open mindedness. Waltzing into our lives with his great manners and his witty stories. Pfft. What a loser.

Jealous? Am I jealous?! Christ no.

I’m livid.

Now it is I who has to bare the whole entire brunt of the shame of being a singleton and fast approaching 30.

It really does seem to bother some people and way more than it does me! I really can’t be doing with online dating or apps or (heaven forbid) putting myself out there more.

Unless a guy is literally going to land on my doorstep then I just don’t think I can be dealing with all the drama of it. I barely reply to messages from my friends and family so bugger me if I’m going to remember to check my “Bumble” or “Hinge” every five minutes.

So I’m asking you, reader, to organise a man to arrive on my doorstep please and or organise the return to singlehood for my fair weather spinster sister.

Step One . I Am Powerless

This blog post contains information regarding drug use, addiction, working with deities and may well be triggering or infuriating for some!

I’ve always felt that there was a greater power in this world. Some kind of sentient presence that was listening and responding in its own way; often not in ways we’d expect or even notice but there all the same.

Being raised as a “casual Christian”, this presence was, to me, God. Yahweh, Elohim, Adonai etc. I only learnt of the names of God through practising the lesser banishing ritual of the pentagram!

I felt a something between myself and God but it wasn’t anything particularly tangible or able to be verbalised coherently. It was more of a hoping within myself that he might exist.

And so, to be able to adhere to the first step towards sobriety that states: “We admitted we errr powerless over our addiction,” and to be able to surrender completely to God needed some consideration.

I was more than happy to admit my powerlessness. “I admit that my life becomes unmanageable when I try to control it. The true meaning of powerlessness.”. But I couldn’t see myself loving this slightly esoteric life alongside a Christian god.

My understanding of divinity drifts like tectonic plates grinding and rubbing and sliding over and under and against and apart. Always in a state of flux. However, one concept, one tiny small spark has always smouldered away inside me. There IS a God of some sort and I sense “it” as a motherly energy.

I won’t now go on about my encounters or “signs” experienced but ultimately know that for many reasons I was led to calling this energy Isis.

When I prayed and reflected and surrendered my control over the addiction I am so powerless against to Isis, knowing that all will be right if I surrender to her will; a red kite flew above me. I recommend you research the association between Isis and a red kite to fully appreciate this.

The universe is listening to you and is ready and willing to respond so long as you are ready and willing to experience that.

I’m so incredibly grateful to the deities I understand in my life. Isis has smiled upon my willingness to choose a better and brighter life and when things are challenging, I remember that she is in charge of my addiction now. I cannot be trusted to take control for I am powerless.

Step two requires me to cement my absolute knowing of the divine and this is something that I already know will prove to be seismic.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference, living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; taking this world as it is and not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will. 

Accidental Astral Projection and Does My Spirit Guide Have Great Banter?

It’s another one of those posts.

I’d like to point out that, seeing as I did confess to an addictive personality, that at the time of writing this I am sober as a judge. Minus like two glasses of wine but believe me; that’s not the issue.

For the last year, the notion of a spirit guide has both captivated and cramped my mind. I can’t begin to tell you how frustrating it is to read things that say, “Your spirit guide is trying to communicate with you too..,” as if it’s this endless tragic love story of two ships passing in the night.

I’d try so many different ways to really connect to this, as I imagined it, incredible energy that would send sensations all over my body. I expected my eyes would bulge, my throat would constrict and I was fully up for the possibility of wetting myself. I’d likely see kaleidoscopic mandalas and hear ethereal whispering.

Well, as so many other people will say, “spirit is very subtle,”. It’s never going to be this siren that goes off. It’s a silent exhalation of breath amongst a storm with a name like Brian or Phil.

In the back of my mind, I told myself that if I were to be feeding the old addiction monster; my spirit guide would never be able to communicate in the ways I want. I bound myself tighter and tighter in this belief to the point where I probably made it so.

The second then that I declared myself no longer doing horrible things, I fully expected a full body manifesting angel to be before me with cake and a card to celebrate me. Nope.

What I did experience instead were “buzzings”. These weird sensations similar to what a circuit might feel when it suddenly shorts. A fizz of sensation in my entire body.

I now believe this to be my energy trying to sit comfortably around me and struggling as my whole system tried to shift back to working like a “normal” person. It couldn’t attune to my inner discomfort perhaps and instead shot out of me? I don’t know.

Because of these buzzings, I popped out of my body A LOT. Feeling exhausted as I was no longer running on the bad stuff, I spent a lot of time lounging on my bed. My whole body would be being pushed and pulled energetically. Rushes and waves and spins and bursts of sensation.

Before I knew it, I’d be floating up and out and down on to my bedroom floor. Blind but fully aware. I felt the carpet of my bedroom beneath my hands. I could lift myself up off of the floor and, after some initial challenge, speak and hear myself speaking out loud.

I remembered this audiobook I listened to and how the author describes demanding “Clarity now,” aloud to trigger improved astral senses. I did this and then panicked about what I might see so plunged back in to my physical body.

Another time, I did the same and managed to see somewhat. I also flew above a forest and encountered two rather unscrupulous chaps. On all occasions though, ultimately my own fear would snap me back.

I want to stress that, for me, astral projection feels just as real as being in your normal life. There was no difference bar I couldn’t see. Like me being blind (yet conscious of the fact I’d just floated out of my body like a leaf) in my day to day life. It’s not the same as a lucid dream at all.

So that was cool as fuck.

Now the spirit guide. So, I’m super relaxed and not thinking about how relaxed I was. I was that relaxed that I wasn’t even conscious of how relaxed I was. You get what I’m saying? It’s that knowing and feeling of relaxation rather than that repeated statement of thought, “Ahhh, I can relax for a bit now. How lovely,”.

In this state, I decided to attune to spirits by simply listening out for them!

An incredible pressure surrounded me and I saw a slight blue flash. Then the pictures came.

I’ll respect the identify of my spirit guide for now but I know that he was a pretty witty spirit! The sudden responses that came like thoughts to me were honestly proper banter. It was beyond what I would expect a spirit to be like and it was way funnier than I could ever hope to be.

The overall feeling though was joyful and uplifting. It felt very much like this was an important being to know and be speaking to.

And so, I encourage you to keep trying if you haven’t yet met your own. Absolutely don’t think that I or anyone else is an expert on YOUR spirit skills and YOUR spirit guide. You’re the fountain of allI knowledge about your own spirituality – you’ll know what to do always.

Nature Spirits

Disclaimer: I’m sober and serious.

Suspend disbelief here just for a moment. I absolutely really do one-hundred percent know there to be nature spirits.

For me, they look, with my naked eye, like glittery patches somehow distinctive from the “glittery air” which I assume to be energy. Seeing as all things are energy, it makes sense that everything then has an energetic sparkle to it – even the air itself. So these spirits also just look sparkly but maybe slightly more prominent and somehow eye catching.

What I’m trying to say is that they don’t, to me, appear as a tangible mammalian green goblin. They are sparkles. I realise this makes it sound simply ophthalmic and maybe I’m just in need of specs.

The amazing thing is though, I’ve also seen them in my minds eye. I can’t prove that it’s not my imagination; even to myself. But, I can only say that I felt it was not coming from me. The picture in my head was unimaginable. It truly was a picture I’d never be able to describe and one that didn’t remind me of anything I’d ever seen.

My latest communication with a nature spirit was only yesterday. I knew it was a nature spirit and not a human spirit by the way the energy felt. To me, this nature spirit felt incredibly strong and grounding in nature. My hands felt so heavy and “thick”.

The spirit showed me a flower and highlight specifically the (excuse my technical language here) yellow bit in the middle.

It then showed me what looked like small black spots amongst the “yellow bit”. The message was to look for these black spots and remove flowers with these as it will be somehow harmful for bees. I then saw chickens and their eggs.

So I mean, I definitely don’t have any knowledge of bees, plants or parasitic black bits. This very well could just be the biggest piece of nonsense ever or – far more likely – it will prove to come to pass in some way.

I’m not mad. You are.

12 Steps

At this stage with all my many ones of readers, I feel it appropriate to fully lay my cards (tarot of course) upon the table.

I am a recovering addict.

For years and years I’ve been unable to spend any length of time without sating my immensely powerful addiction. However, I’m approaching things differently this time and at time of writing this, I haven’t indulged my parasitic pangs of wanting for 8 days. Yes, it’s early still.

My uncle was an addict and he muddled and withered and oozed out of this world at the age of 53 in 2022. I vowed to see this as a wake up call and change my ways so as to avoid the same fate but that didn’t last longer than a few hours.

I began to think about the missed opportunities for my uncle and the fact that he was never able to find the fraction of him that wanted to get help. He never really admitted he had a problem.

I, though, did find a large fraction of me that did want out of that monotony. I also found the 12 steps thanks to google. It was a good day.

And so I am on step one.

“I Feel Like You’re Massive. Like You Were A Whale”

I’m not massive thank you very much!

Picture the scene; around twenty likeminded self proclaimed psychic-mediums situated before their webcams and coming together in the name of learning.

Some of us were stick thin, bespectacled and would have intermittent attacks of visions or spirit messages or even divine apparitions. Some of us were Satan worshippers who never smiled the entire duration of the online course (9 weeks) and then some of us were relatively normal.

I’d booked myself on to “Enhance your psychic and mediumistic abilities with Maria” as I wanted to do exactly that!

Each session would begin with Maria leading us in a meditation in which we would have to envision roots sprouting deep down in to the earth from our feet (for grounding our energy and drawing up pure earth energy) and focus on feeling heavy. Then, she’d tell us to draw the energy up and through our bodies and out the crown before taking us on a guided meditation which required visualisation skills beyond my own.

At the end of this, every week, she’d go round to each square with a person in it and ask them to share their experiences.

It was bloody insane! These people had been meeting angels, dancing with their deceased ancestors, turning in to leopards and all sorts! I felt discouraged to admit every week that mine had, at best, resulted in me imagining some geese.

My hopes weren’t high following that and so I gulped when Maria pulled an oracle card for herself and once more went round to each of us to get our interpretations and how we felt (psychically) it connected to her.

Well it was some sort of female figure with what looked like fire around her. I said something along the lines of exactly that but I also then felt that, very literally, this card referred to a burn.

Bingo. I was fully spot on.

Next we partnered up and had to give each other psychic readings. Just stare at them and say what you felt for twenty minutes before getting feedback. I gulped again.

Incredibly, I and the other members were able to know things about each other with such intense detail that I just cannot explain it.

At one stage, when we were practising scrying, I told my partner (Wendy) that I was seeing a small child and people sitting in a car before walking in a park. This was precisely what she had been doing with her niece who had been looking after a younger sibling. In another, I told my partner I felt that she’d had an accident in her car involving a dog and, again sadly, true.

These are just a few examples. I’m conscious this may seem like arrogance or boasting but it’s possible for any and every one.

I did also have a couple of blooper moments. With this one girl, I couldn’t get ANYTHING! She was so hard to read. All I managed was that she’d had a bad bicycle accident years ago.

One incredible woman kept telling me about my future wife… and another told me I was a whale in a previous life. Excellent!

There are so many weird and wonderful groups to meet likeminded people out there and I can’t recommend it enough even if only for the hilarity that will ensue telling your friends afterwards.










Banana Split

Four years ago, I made the choice to leave my rock and roll lifestyle in London and return home to sleepy Norfolk.

I appreciate that for many people out there the move from bustling London to the manure scented literal “ass hump” of the country might seem ill judged but hear me out. In London, I was consuming approximately 5 gin and tonics a day and zero fruits and veg. My blood was literally alcohol and coffee. My insides were a mix of pizza semen and cocaine.

It’s fair to say, life wasn’t going well for me there.

It really came to a crescendo one weekend. I’d just returned home from a “chill out” which is gay lingo for loads of drugs and promiscuous activities with shady men. Buzzing off my tits, I was bloody thrilled to see that my Grindr was popping off and I’d been invited to join a super hot couple in a hotel not 5 minutes from my flat. I ran there!

Upon arrival, it was looking like it would be an awesome time. There was a moment or two where I felt super fat looking in the mirror and inadequate but nothing some more drugs wouldn’t fix, right?

Following a lot of seedy sex, I was in the shower (not alone) and, feeling like a proper LAD, swaggered out and threw myself on to the bed allowing my head to throw back as I did.

I threw it back straight on to the obscenely sharp corner of the thick wooden headboard.

Immediately blood started gushing out of the back of my head and, in my high-as-a-kite state, I assumed I had a matter of minutes left and began panicking. Everyone else panicked. We all panicked. Panic! Someone began wrapping my head with surgical stockings and another read me my last rites.

An Uber was summoned and Long story short – they dumped me at A&E and I had my head stitched and glued.

Weirdly, whilst I was sat on the chair in the doctors room with my head face down on the surgical table having a slightly cross man crochet the back of my head, I thought I needed to make a change.

And so now I live here in the countryside where my chances of getting laid are few and far between, the career prospects are sparse and I have very few friends. And yet, I’m so much happier and calmer here. I love the green. I love all the birds. I love having to drive to get to the nearest shop.

For all it has to offer, a large city can be Russian roulette for a young impressionable lonely gay guy. The countryside however, is a total tonic!

I Get Alarmingly More Attention As A Questionable Woman (and other lessons from 2022)

Ok so my whole approach to writing this blog was to “speak my truth” as it were and so I should take the plunge and confess. I had a slightly odd side hustle at the start of this year…

Long story short – I needed some extra cash and a friend of mine was RAKING it in dressing as a woman for a rather seedy webcamming site. This combined two of my, at the time, favourite things; fancy dress and getting male attention. Sure, I’d have to appropriate transsexual culture and ultimately adopt an entirely different and new persona BUT some creepy old guy would be paying me a compliment and paying 30p a minute for the privilege.

If the above doesn’t direct you to thinking I maybe wasn’t living my best life then you should probably reflect on that.

And so I learnt that whilst the real male version of me gets barely any attention from men, the slightly bearded lady version of me is a certified hottie and dick magnet. I decide not to dwell too much on this!

This and so many other things I have been blessed to learn this year. What follows is, I hope, my whimsical way of looking at what could be pretty tragic life events. Yay optimism.

I’m a really really rubbish teacher

For the last 8 (?) years I’ve been single-handedly dashing the chances of success for the many many children who have been unlucky enough to enter my classroom. Their little faces so full of ambivalent nervousness on those first few days in September were so quickly transmuted into looks of horror as I flamboyantly pranced around the room and gave them all new names (shout out to Babs).

Did some of them think me truly excellent and “fun”? Sure. Did any of them learn anything? Absolutely not.

The truth is, I just don’t care.

Oh yay you can recognise the subordinate clause in a variety of sentences but you’re chronic social skills and inability to make and nurture friendships; we will just ignore that.

I can’t fully immerse myself in the role knowing that rather than actually really helping these children, the whole system is fuelling anxiety, separatism and completely detouring around the importance of being a kind person.

Is this true for all schools? No probably not but what is true is the fact that 99% of teachers are just the worst kinds of people imaginable. I won’t elaborate, just take my word for it ok?

Monologues about spiritual experiences are a quick way to never get a shag again.

I can’t tell you how many dates I’ve been on since my, self proclaimed, spiritual awakening. Oh. Actually I can – about two.

That’s beside the point, the thing I want you all to know is that no matter how interesting you found the time when, being your usual lazy self lounging on your bed, you suddenly noticed a hazy figure stood next to you who then proceeded to reach out, grab your hand and lead you around your house singing “You are my sunshine”.

Personally, that really really turns me on but as you’ll see, I’ve also learnt not everyone thinks like me.

Yes we are all the same – sure BUT the way some people think is wayward.

If you’re the kind of person who “falls out” with people and you’re not under 10 years old then I just don’t understand you.

In 2022, I had the great displeasure of meeting and somewhat befriending the most spiritually asleep man. He spent his entire life assuming people were scheming and plotting against him, blocked contacts on his phone every other day and when I told him I’d got a present for his birthday, but that it wasn’t too great so he shouldn’t be excited, replied “Well I am”. Believe me, this wasn’t supposed to be an attempt at humour, he just loved any opportunity to be even the slightest bit awkward and confrontational. We say a big fuck off to him. With loving kindness of-course.

When you start thinking that people are thinking the same as you and see the world in the same way, simply watch some kind of reality TV show. People are brilliantly different in so many ways.