After Reiki this ritual was the kick off out of my depression and into loving myself.
Versão brasileira Herbert Richers.
Punkaste,
Rirou
Desbaptism ritual
Chapter 6: as wicked
For years I believe I was doom for a life of surfering and pain. For real, was a feeling that I couldn’t enjoy life, and if I did I would be punished. Everything that gave me joy was going to be the end of the world. Like, everything was my fault. Heavy metal thought me that the easy way out, ending life, was not an option.
Yes, it’s true, the feeling was that I was wicked. Like in my dreams is it was always there, demons faces saying I couldn’t enjoy life. I didn’t know what those demons were until I picked up the guitar to play at 39 years old. Not only that, it only started to make sense on my 40th birthday! That’s when I realized I was battling my own existence.
At age of 39 is when I told my wife, I wanted to be the one who stays home with the kids and learn music. Not only because I didn’t want to work. I mean I don’t want to work, because the truth I can’t have a boss. I think from all the bosses that I had, there is a very few that I didn’t say fuck off. Me out there is a menace to society. It’s true, cause I have an attitude and I know how to use it, like the guy from office space. The scene where the guy from office space, says fuck off and got promoted actually happened in my life a few times. Or that scene with George Costanza, when he does everything the opposite way. Anyways, I said I want to stay home and say fuck you to the Pope and rock. I also wanted to stay home mostly because Luke is as sensitive, if not more than I am, and now Amber. She is also super sensitive.
Scaping hell (depression) is about learning about my sensitivity and using, and as I do that I want to teach my kids how to use their strength in life, after all my sensitivity is my strength. This way the story won’t repeat itself. The crazy thing is as a sensitive person I became very angry inside due to not exploring my sensitivity, and swallowing my feelings. Didn’t look like I was an angry person because like the movie Anger Management he says there are 2 kinds of people: the one who explodes and the one who listened quietly day after day. Well, I am/was the one who listened day after day. Felt like I was grounded for 33 years.
Hell and fire was spawned to be released and that’s when the other day I made the video of saying fuck you to the Pope. As I released all this anger in form of art I noticed that things actually started to workout in my life, and the paranoia is gone. Things are no longer heavy and the energy is flowing. Not only that, by doing this, it creates a positive effect in the people around me, my family. Maybe not the devoted catholics since my story make them uncomfortable, but it’s what they say, life begins at the end of the confort zone.
Now I planned to release my first kids song in portuguese this week, however since we are moving (we got a house, see how choosing love/joy things workout?), I decided to wait and record the video in the new house. I believe this will have a much deeper meaning. Because the reality is, on January 20th, Saint Sebastian day the Padron of my hometown (Rio de Janeiro, Brasil) we bought our first home. That day was when the world turned around for me, that day was the day I realized I was not doomed, and I finally found my place under the sun. Yeah, I escaped hell, and it felt like a slapt in the face of destiny. Well, maybe not a slapt, but more like a mooning to destiny. I always loved mooning LOL.
Punkaste,
Rirou
Chapter 5: More human than human
Today, 01/20/2021 is actually the day of Saint Sebastiao, the patron of Rio de Janeiro, my birth place. At first I wanted to launch my book this day, but since I realized my story is way bigger than I thought, I needed more time to finish the book. Now the idea of this blog is actually to talk about spirituality, so I decided to use the date as my first post of 2021.
The crazy thing of all of this, is that after I decided to talk about my depression, the opportunities of making my point started to showing up at my door. I mean, from Leo the Great answer my tweet to reading an article where the Pope says that those who are skeptical about the vaccine are suicidal denial. You can read here.
If I am completely honest, my set back started with what the Pope said, and here it is why. I am skeptical of this vaccine. I mean, people have all the rights in the world of being skeptical with this vaccine. I am not antivax or a conspiracy guy. I am just human! But to be fair, just in my life time alone I learned about bullshit science with the tabacco industry, with the nutrition industry, with supplements industry, and even with some medicine industry. My kids are vaccined, I believe they work. But this one is different in so many ways, specially because every day there is something new to the virus (unless media lies about). I am not the only skeptical, I did a poll with a few of my followers and 100% said they don’t trust this vaccine either. I just want wait a bit and see more results, until I make my decision. No, am I not suicidal denial, I had those thoughts before because of what you antecessor Pope said. I don’t anymore, but I can’t help the fact that I am a sensitive man. Yeah, I am sensitive like a witch, so God save the queen!
Let’s be totally fair here, we have a big mental health crisis. Now, come out and call people suicidal denial for being skeptical, it’s not super smart in a crisis, is it? I can even say is a bit judgmental. I mean, have you even heard the other side of the story? I think I can prove why I am skeptical. Am I right? Am I wrong? No one knows! Because even one of my son’s doctors said “who knows, maybe in 10 years from now we will say, that was not a good idea.” Or maybe, just maybe a few of us. A very few of us do know about it, and then the game is not monopoly. The real game is hunger games.
Right or wrong I am human, so I would appreciate less judgment and more respect in my belief. See, the problem is you! And no I never get offended, I just might think you are an asshole, and you don’t fuck with my feelings. Not again, because my #1 rule in my house (mind, body and soul) is the story does not repeat itself. I broke the cycle!
I am more human than human.
My name is Rirou and I want to conquer the world.
Hey brother Christian with your high and mighty errand
Your actions speak so loud I can’t hear a word you’re saying
Hey sister bleeding heart with all of your compassion
Your labors soothe the hurt but can’t assuage temptation
Hey man of science with your perfect rules of measure
Can you improve this place with the data that you gather?
Hey mother mercy can your loins bear fruit forever?
Is your fecundity a trammel or a treasure?And I want to conquer the world
Give all the idiots a brand new religion
Put an end to poverty, uncleanliness and toil
Promote equality in all of my decisions
With a quick wink of the eye
And a “God you must be joking”
Hey mister diplomat with your worldly aspirations
Did you see your children cry when you left them at the station?
Hey moral soldier you’ve got righteous proclamation
And precious tomes to fuel your pulpy conflagrations
And I want to conquer the world
Give all the idiots a brand new religion
Put an end to poverty, uncleanliness and toil
Promote equality in all of my decisionsI want to conquer the world
Expose the culprits and feed them to the children
I’ll do away with air pollution and then I’ll save the whales
We’ll have peace on earth and global communion
I want to conquer the world
I want to conquer the world
I want to conquer the world
I want to conquer the world
Punkaste,
Rirou!
Punkaste, the book – Chapter 1
Here it is the first chapter of my book with the release on EASTER 2021! -Chapter 1- It was a recurring dream. Buildings, trees, and people stretched in size in a fraction of a second while I shrunk. All that grew in me was the despair of not being heard in that distorted world. My screams echoed through the giant legs of my parents and brothers, but did not reach the parabolic ears. The worst was realizing that they didn't miss me. Family members, friends and colleagues showed no concern for my whereabouts, as if there had never been a Richard Wygand in their lives. When I remember the loneliness I carried in my chest when I awoke from the nightmare, I feel deep compassion for that frightened boy. Ah, Rirou, my man! How I wanted to be able to go back in time and hug you. Sit next to me and say that a man cries too and that you can cry when you feel like it. I was also going to teach you that you can say what you feel and listen to the music that moves you. Heavy metal, punk rock, reggae, samba. Does not matter. Try all styles, kid, that's what I was going to defend. Then, I would invite you to go skateboarding until the sun meets the sea in Rio de Janeiro. A meeting like this could take away that bad dream from the lonely room of the apartment at Cosme Velho, in Laranjeiras, once I lived my childhood and pre-adolescence as the beginning of a trio of energetic boys, children of a marriage that ended when I was 3 years old. We lived with my mother and grandparents in a middle-class condominium that was two kilometers from Christ the Redeemer, a symbol of faith similar to the giants that drowned out my pleas for help while sleeping.
It took me decades to realize that waking up from that nightmare didn't mean relief. My voice also did not find any attentive ears in the real world and, just like in the dream, I kept shrinking until I became an introverted, depressed child, with binge eating and bursting with aggression. In the first fight at school, I remember crying. My colleagues didn't understand anything, because I had hit the boy. The disagreement started with a soccer crash, a trigger to vent the toxic masculinity that many men carry. The boy cursed me, I snapped, and he tried to kick me. As I was already beaten by two much bigger than me, I managed to defend myself. I reacted by reflex, grabbed my leg, swiped the other for support, and my colleague fell on his back, running out of air. We still clung to the floor and I started punching him, while crying.
I cried a lot until I was 7 years old. Any change in a place’s energy or a person’s mood was enough to tighten my grip. Soon, thick tears were streaming down her face. My brothers, their friends and my own made fun of me when I reacted crying to a disagreement on the playground or suffering from a stupid joke. I remember singing “Boys Don’t Cry” by The Cure and laughing in my face. As any child would, I ran to the nearest adult who could protect and comfort me from that tightness in my chest. But the giants did not seem to hear the little one and preferred to ignore what was happening to me. So, after hearing so much that I was a big boy and that a boy shouldn’t cry, I ended up learning to swallow my tears and hide my feelings. Ah, Rirou, my man! It didn’t have to be that way. Yes, a man cries, and it is very good to cry, see? Several generations of boys have been manufactured by this violent way of relating to themselves, to others and to the environment in which they live. The result was billions of insecure, frustrated, depressed, unhappy and destructive men.
After 33 years and thousands of kilometers traveled, after countless therapy sessions, of all kinds, and meeting wonderful beings that allowed me to conquer the freedom to enjoy my pleasures without censorship, I can say that I am closer to healing than who never imagined little Richard Wygand, so frightened in his world of oppressive giants.
In that unlikely encounter, in addition to comforting you from the bad dream, I would show that the Rirou 2020 version has grown enough to face the internal and external monsters. I'm sure he would be proud to know that in the future he would become an accomplished man, husband and father. Such a return to time would be so incredible and important that I would not hesitate to tell you that we are now strong enough to declare war on the greatest dehumanizing of human creations: the Roman Apostolic Catholic Church.
Yes, because I do not blame my parents or grandparents, nor any adult who contributed to my education. My mother, poor thing, recently divorced, trying to return to the job market, without time to watch three big guys. In that chaos, saying that a man doesn't cry was the easiest way to create a shell on me to withstand the world outside.
The problem is that out there was a society based on religious principles, poisoned by limiting truths about what is right and wrong and ignorant enough to threaten children to hell just for not following Christian moral standards to a T.
Swallowing my feelings was the first armor I was put on to deal with the world of real giants, but no one protected me to absorb the raised fingers in my direction who thought I was a bad boy for listening to heavy metal, punk rock or skateboarding.
I was eight years old when I heard from a friend of my brother that the Slayer undead poster, which he had in his room, was the certificate that the final judgment would not be easy for us rock'n roll lovers. "You listen to these songs of the devil, know that Jesus is going to return with a train, take whoever believes in him, and burn everything else," was what he said.
For those who liked the style, like the three of us at home, hearing that sentence caused me a lot of fear. That boy knew something that I didn't know. I could be right, I don't know.
Unable to cry and terrified of suffering the judgment of others for being who I wanted to be, I ended up withdrawing until I deserved a good guy pat on the head. The reward came in calories. I devoured all the food I saw in front of me. Half a packet of white bread with honey or ketchup was a common snack in my afternoons. At birthday parties, no one exceeded my count in the number of hot dogs. Overweight, at the age of 7, I became a boy who knew he was a good person, but who anesthetized himself with sodium and sugar to fall asleep without fear and guilt. The worst of it is that none of this saved me from encountering the giants and loneliness in a nightmare.
Punkaste,
Rirou
Chapter 18: Holy smoke
Life is not about waiting the storm to pass, neither learning how to dance in the rain. Life is about realizing you are the storm. Once you realize you are the storm you will be able to connect the dots in your life. As I explain in this blog before I had a lot of traumas that led me to depression. Trauma is real, and not our fault but I believe is our duty to heal.
The truth is I have always been sensitive, and as a child I was severely sensitive. I mean I felt the whole thing, I can feel people and places energy; I have an insane amount of deja-vus; I have dreams that came into reality and an intuition that goes beyond what I can explain. I also have always been attracted to esoteric stuff since an early age. At a very young age I was thought quickly that boys didn’t cry and that the music that made me feel good, was evil. Well, you blend this together and I became a very fearful kid. I was afraid of my own existence at that point.
I try to talk about it. I really did, many times. The first time, I tried to talk to a priest, but I was judge from the get go and accused of using drugs. As a sensitive person you know when they are lying, plus on that time I was totally against marijuana, I saw as a drug, now I see as medicine. After a few years of trying to talk I end up shutting myself up even more and that became hell. I really don’t know how hell can be any worst than feeling and not being able to speak or even be heard. Not be able to cry, not be able to express. That’s true hell.
In 2004 I finally said fuck it, I wanted to be health and happy. Therefore, like a punk I decided to to find the answers for myself and I started my healing process. I started with therapy, but I knew it that life was more than what we think it is. In 2005 I thought about going to a monastery and become a monk. I was rediculzed about this thought the same way I was when I said I was going to be a pro athlete as a kid. Every one said, I couldn’t be a holy man, I was to wild, and the music I heard was not holy. Even though they never really asked me what I felt and why I wanted that. After I finished my first ironman, I thought, “this is better then a monastery”. The physical pain helped with my emotional pain, and the training was like a moving meditation. Months later after my first ironman, I found true love. I found the woman that was going to be the mother of my children. Long story but I just knew it she was the one.
Back in 2012 I decided to add more things to my healing. Things like Reiki, past life regression, esoteric books, body talk and I restarted listening to music during my workouts. Specially metal and punk rock. That was the beginning of my escape from hell. After Luke was born he woke up my soul and I realized that health is about mind, body and soul. And I kept the soul out of the equation for a long time. So I had to go deep in my soul to look for answers. Months later in 2016 I became a Reiki master and honestly the last 4 years I was determined to connect the dots. A few weeks after I finished my interviews with the ghostwriter and I held Amber in my arms I connected and started losing the fear. After all, I always heard you will understand when you are a father. Well I am a father now, actually father of 2.
Apparently, there is a thing called clairaudience which is a type of medium ship. One of the characteristics of that is: You get signs from songs and things people say. Is like, you hear a song or listen to something and you can connect the dots in your life. Is freaky to be honest, but is no joke, it is real! Same thing of being an empath, that you feel energy, that shit is real too. Anyways, apparently this shit is really strong in me. Like, fucked up strong, and the biggest irony of all is that the so called “devil” music guided me out of hell, a hell that religion put me on it for listening to heavy metal! Ha, isn’t that fantastic?
That is why I want to learn all the songs the guided me all this time because it heals my soul. Trauma is real and weed does helps with going beyond the trauma. Something called detachment in psychiatry. Either way, weed helps in going beyond the trauma, like I can detach from the trauma and coffee gives me the energy to make it happen. These are a powerful combination. Now, what it all means I don’t know. Where it all going to go I don’t know. All I know is my Reiki is crazy good, it feels good to learn those songs, and to talk about spirituality in a form of philosophy. It’s a huge relief. Also, I have that feeling inside that says I must tell this story.
The truth is my entire existence was based on “faith” in the life force because I didn’t know how I was going to do. I didn’t want to go to college, I didn’t want to have a concrete plan, and all I wanted was to do what I felt like it. All I had was a feeling, a feeling telling me the way, I trusted and it worked. That is why I say I am an asshole, because I simply said fuck all this I am going to do what I want; what I feel like is the best for me. So, if rock and roll is the devil’s music and rock and roll guided me here, is only fair to tell the Pope Rirou is back and he is making holy smoke. Funny because it feels like this is build up from past lives, and I must end this cycle in this life time now by telling MY truth. Something I only connected the dots after becoming a Dad, after all kids are our biggest teachers bringing us the biggest spiritual gifts.
Life is ironic, the problem is you and at the same time you are the solution. We are all in hell, we are all disconnected. Look at it, we are all depressed, is a depressive world, we treat each other and the environment like shit. But hey, hell aint a bad place, your friends are there too. You are not alone! So, go find your joy, go find love. But remember the world is a mirror and to find love you must first love yourself. Doing it so you will be an asshole to a lot of people, but you will stop being an asshole with yourself. Then guarantee love will start knocing at your door cause the truth is life is about being your own hero. Kill your pride and attitude, it’s not about money is about your soul. You can loose everything but never your soul.
During this life time I heard that my sensitivity was feminine (aka boys don’tcry), so maybe the mediumship I have, is an old witch and now I fixed the portion (coffee and weed). I do want to share my side of the story and I do want to help people, because my point is there is more to it, there is more to life that we can even imagine, or even fit in a box (chruch) and there is a lot more to it behing a sensitive man/boy. I can tell you one thing, the meaning of life is following your dreams, your deepest dreams. That inner child dreams. I did it once when I followed my dream of being a professional athlete, and I now I am making 2 other dreams come true: the guitar and picking a fight with the pope. After all he did prohibited iron maiden to play in Chile in 1992 for no reason, taking the joy of millions of people; and that was the beginning of my trauma.
Punkaste,
Rirou
Ps: Trauma is often reflected in the body and back in 2014 I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, which is located in the throat chakra. The throat chakra is totally related to comunication, and mine is off balance, the reason why “is fear of speaking”. That is why, this whole project is healing and motivating other to heal themselves as well.
Believe in me and send no money
I died on the cross, that ain’t funny
But my so called friends they’re making me a joke
They missed out what I said like I never spoke They choose what they wanna hear, don’t tell a lie
They just leave out the truth as they’re watching you die
They’re saving the souls by taking your money
Flies around shit, bees around honey Holy smoke, holy smoke
Plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed ’em in feet first this is no joke
This is thirsty work making holy smoke
Making holy smoke Jimmy Reptile and all his friends
Say they gonna be with you at the end
Burning records, burning books
Holy soldiers, Nazi looks Crocodile smiles, just wait awhile
Till the TV Queen gets her make up clean
I’ve lived in filth, I’ve lived in sin
And I still smell cleaner than the shit you’re in Holy smoke, holy smoke
There’s plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed ’em in feet first, this is no joke This is thirsty work making holy smoke
Holy smoke
Smells good They ain’t religious but they ain’t no fools
When Noah built his Cadillac it was cool
Two by two they’re still going down
And the satellite circus just left town I think they’re strange and when they’re dead
They can have a Lincoln for their bed
Friend of the president, trick of the tail
Now they ain’t got a prayer, one hundred years in jail Holy smoke, holy smoke
Plenty bad preachers for the devil to stoke
Feed ’em in feet first this is no joke
This is thirsty work making holy smoke
Holy smoke.
I am Rirou the Punk! 