100 Unfortunate Days by Penelope Crowe Read Free Book Online

wood and a machete can get you through a jungle, but that is not the reason for the fascination. All knives come with invisible blood and everyone can figure out how to get them to work.

Day 45
    Another sunny day and another minute closer to summer and you could not care less. There is a point in time when you are no longer living your own life. You wake up and it is a race to get the things done that you need to get done. And someone is telling you if you don’t get these things done, you are incompetent. You are grateful for the warm weather, but you have to clean up the yard, then cook, then clean, then listen to everyone bitch at how much you suck. And at this point you probably do suck, because what the hell, whatever you do is going to be wrong anyway. So you can’t wait to go to sleep at night, but not with your husband. Sharing a bed is overrated. I don’t want to share my covers, I don’t want to shut the light off if I don’t care to, I don’t want to have to worry about someone else not wanting to watch TV, and I don’t want to have to hold in a fart because it might smell bad.

Day 46
    Anything can be a tulpa. If you think of something long enough, you will make it real. You can make almost anything come true. Stacks of books are written about all the methods of imagery, manifestation and self-fulfilling prophecies—but in reality, all you have to do is think. Nothing tricky or fancy—just think. You’ll do this and you won’t even know it. You will worry about your kid…she’ll be sad at school, she’ll do badly with her new friends. Just keep it up—it will surely happen.
    Whatever you think about for your kids, whatever you worry about—that is what they will become. Pity them and they will become the kid that should be pitied. You gave them a tulpa. They are their own tulpa because of you. People take things away from us all the time. They call names, they give us wrong directions and they hurt our feelings. We take it from there.
    No one can ever talk to us as much as we talk to ourselves. “I’m such a witch, I’m such a witch…” One day your husband made you mad and you add something to his food that may upset his stomach just a little bit. “I’m such a witch…” The mole on your face has a hair you never noticed before. “…such a witch…” You no longer feel a communion with God. Somewhere along the line you become the witch.
    A tulpa is a thought come to life. Mystics in India believe if you can imagine something to the point of knowing it down to its finest detail—eventually you will have a hard time knowing if it is your imagination or not. Then this spirit/idea takes on shape and energy and it becomes real. So real that you can no longer get rid of it. So real that it can become a part of you and have the ability to change your life.

Day 47
    Plant something. Do everything right…give it enough sun and water and see if it grows. If you give it too much sun, it could whither from the heat. If you give it too much water, you could drown it. If you totally ignore it the soil will dry up and it will die from neglect.

Day 48
    My brain does not work
    She cried and she cried
    I’ve visions of demons
    And something has died
    The food that I cook
    Contains sticks and debris
    I lie here and sigh
    Feeling weak with ennui
    The thoughts in my head
    Contain lava and thorns
    My mind’s forming cracks
    And for sunshine it mourns
    And the small dancing devils
    In high-colored rooms
    Pass ideas among them
    And settle my glooms
    On my outstretched unconscious
    So that I’m not aware
    Although I’m alive
    I’m considered a spare

Day 49
    Project for a rainy day.
    Stand in the rain until you are soaking wet. Come inside and put on dry clothes, but do not dry yourself off—let the rainwater soak into your skin. Go to sleep if it’s night or take a nap if it is before 6 PM. Before you fall asleep put a pad and pencil next to your bed. Sleep for at least 90 minutes.
    If you remember