Sleeping on the Balcony and Clairvoyance

April 30, 2024. The window had been open the whole time. In the early morning, I was awakened by the chirping of birds. When I opened my eyes, my first thought was: Elisabeth. I was still lying there, breathing in the fresh morning air. I closed my eyes and asked, “What should I do?” “Want,” came the response quickly as an inner voice. I opened my eyes and thought, "Want? I lay there for a while longer and decided to write Elisabeth an email:

“Hello again to the vegetarian of my dreams, our encounter has left a strong echo in me. I simply can't get you out of my head. Maybe you suddenly changed your mind because you're afraid of being hurt again. Your former self subconsciously tries to protect itself by distancing once the thought arises that a committed relationship could develop. Every encounter with people carries the risk of hurt, even without the intention to harm anyone. However, if people treat each other empathetically, regularly discuss their feelings, and are always honest with each other, they can avoid injuries.

I actually just wanted to say that you mean a lot to me as a person. And I sincerely wish that you are more in my life story than just a brief diary entry.

I won't spam you with messages anymore. Don't worry. You can change your mind at any time. I won't judge you for it. My heart is open to you.

Best regards,

Sascha, who is not an accountant”

I closed my laptop, took a deep breath, and was ready for the day. As I made my way to campus, many people were already out and about by around 8 AM. It was surely because of the nice weather. Just like nature, people are also waking up from their winter slumber. I bought some rolls, ate them in the cemetery, and then, of course, treated myself to a coffee on campus.

It was so lovely. Just sitting there and enjoying the rays of sunshine. Pretty women walked by me, but somehow they didn’t interest me like usual. The only woman I wanted was Elisabeth. I closed my eyes and thought: “No matter how Elisabeth decides, I love her unconditionally. I wish her a happy life and that all her emotional wounds heal.”

“What if she chooses me? What if we are meant for each other?” the inner voice asked me.

I paused briefly and answered inwardly: “Then I will put aside all doubts and dedicate myself to her 100 percent.”

“Do you really want that?”

There was a short silence in my head. I only saw the play of sunlight behind my closed eyelids.

“Yes, I do.”

I opened my eyes, took the last sip of coffee, returned the cup, and went into the library with a smile on my face.

At half-past eleven, I take my next break. I have the prepared lunch at the cemetery, by my now beloved grave. It has a high step I can sit on, and compared to the other graves and benches, it is in the sun most of the time. Afterwards, there was coffee on the already crowded campus. It was so hot that I had to take off my socks and shoes. Let's see, maybe in the next few days I will just go barefoot and only take my shoes with me for safety in my backpack.

During the break, I read from my new book "The Handbook of Extrasensory Perception" by Mystic Michaela. Everything is energy (as a physicist, I agree, E = mc²). I learned that extrasensory perception is the ability to perceive the world around me on an energetic level.

There are six clairvoyant senses: clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairalience, clairtouch, clairsavour, and claircognizance. They can actually manifest physically or create a mental illusion of physical feeling, seeing, hearing, smelling, and tasting. Strengthening one's psychic abilities means distinguishing the messages of these clairvoyant senses from ordinary thoughts (the voice of the ego, the creative voice). The voice of the ego is loud, the creative voice is chaotic and loud as well. But both are slower than the extrasensory messages. That is why they come up later in time. The extrasensory messages are conveyed to me by the "Spirit." The Spirit is my personal voice that communicates the extrasensory messages (messages from the Divine) to me.

The whole thing reminds me a bit of the conversations with God that believers talk about and that I also try to practice.

Who speaks to me through the Spirit? It could be spirit guides, angels, people from the beyond, or my higher self. "Maybe even God Himself," I wonder. The Earth is a classroom for spiritual healing and learning. The higher self is my true personality, existing between this world and the next, representing the personality of my soul.

This all sounds very esoteric to me, but I remain open to it because I know that if I close myself off from it, I will certainly not develop these supernatural abilities.

At 3:30 PM, we should have a meeting in the shared apartment about our future lives. So I went home at half-past one. Down in the library, I ran into the tall Julia. When she saw me, she smiled at me enthusiastically, exclaimed "Hi," and waved. I returned her greeting.

On the way home, a blonde in tight leggings came shimmying out from the side street right in front of me. Sometimes she looked back, probably past me. In that moment, I realize again how hard it is for me to keep my impulses in check. How am I supposed to resist that hot backside? I begin to doubt whether I'll ever be able to give my love to just one woman. Perhaps it's just hard for me to control my impulses because I am physically and emotionally not "satisfied." Maybe this strong drive will disappear when a woman enters my life who makes me "satisfied." I believe the better solution would be to not depend on external factors for satisfaction, but to become satisfied from within.

We have postponed the meeting to 5 PM. When Lara, the psychotherapist, asked me how I was feeling, sensing that I wasn't well, I told her everything. Thomas and Lara recommended behavior therapy to me. Thomas did it, and it was the best decision because it really helps a lot, and most importantly, one resolves the psychological issues much faster. It was liberating to throw off the burden. But afterwards, when I drove to Borsum, I had a stomachache and felt how emotionally exhausting the conversation had been for me. What surprised me a lot was how Lina looked at Thomas when he spoke. You only look at someone like that when you're in love. But Thomas is in a relationship, isn’t he?

Fortunately, the stomachache had eased somewhat when I arrived at the train station. I waited for the train for a while, looking at the sun, somewhat apathetic but apparently also appealing. An older man with a beard came by and greeted me with a handshake and a smile. Another man offered me a cigarette, which I accepted, and simply told me about his schizophrenia and his four different personalities and what it does to him, physically and emotionally. On the train, a young man sat down beside me in the four-seat compartment, although the four-seat compartment on the left was completely free.

It was strange how the deep conversation with my roommates had given me an invisible shield saying "I am a counselor," or at least increased my appeal. Because I had no other explanation for why I exerted such an attraction that prompted people to approach me and share their most intimate things.

Upon arriving in Borsum, Mom was okay, but one could unconsciously sense that she was having some conflicts with Julien again. We talked about it, and I tried to be a therapist. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite work because my mother apparently has different psychological issues than I do, and I couldn’t really help her out of the vicious cycle due to my lack of experience. But in one thing, I hopefully opened her eyes a little: to pay attention to her feelings regarding emotional triggers, which she often experiences with Julien, and to try to find out what they could be telling her. To ask oneself why one reacted so emotionally.

Today, I slept on the balcony for the first time. Despite another balcony above me that partially blocked the sky, I could see the stars to my right. It was also a bit hard to lie directly on the wooden floor in my sleeping bag, so I added a pillow. That way, I could sleep well. The temperature in the sleeping bag was just right this time.

Before falling asleep, I thought of Elisabeth. I imagined: Elisabeth agreed to a meeting. We met on the stairs to the opera. When we saw each other, we walked towards each other, without taking our eyes off one another for even a second. When we stood in front of each other, we looked deeply into each other's eyes again, fell into each other’s arms, and hugged as tightly as we could. "We won't let go of each other," she said. I envisioned this over and over until I finally fell asleep.