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.
Am I evil? That is a question that I had for my entire existence. Yeah, it’s pretty crazy. This thought started at a super early age for me, and it haunted me down, until I was 40 years old. Well, if I am honest, still does. Now the big question is why, and I hope you are ready to read, cause I am ready to talk.
Since an early age I was called evil for loving heavy metal, I heard many times and I said it here many times. What you didn’t know is that it felt like I was being crucified for my music taste. Because the minute I said I liked heavy metal I was automatic labeled as evil. As I said I was a sensitive kid, well I am a sensitive man. Now, why was I sensitive? Well, I had psychic abilities, very strong ones. I had a lot of deja-vus, intuitions, knowing things, and feeling things. What kid would not be get scared to say what he feels after being labeled evil from the get go. The worst part of all is being crucified without even hearing my side of the story. People assumed I was an anti-Christ, or this soulless person when people didn’t even knew what was going on, or even what I believed. So my fault was that I never said what I felt because of the fear of being evil.
Now, when Luke was born my sensibility came back up at the highest level. I have gotten him out of trouble so many times, and it was like I just knew it what to do. Lots of stories in my upcoming book. Crazy insane, I know, but true. I think there is a few stories during my 40 walk through the covid-420 that I mention some dots I connected . Ok, so now are you ready to talk about Jesus and God? LOL that is when it gets super interesting the story. Let’s go by part.
First of all, I had always believed that Jesus existed, he was a public figure for sure no doubt about it. I mean, people wrote a book about him. I just always believed the story was distorted, and I also knew that we don’t need Religion to connect with something higher. When Luke was born I went to do a Reiki session, and during this session guess who showed up in a form of vision? Well, if you guessed Jesus you are right. He paid me a visit. Not only once, but twice. The second time was in 2020 before before Amber was born on my meditation. Now you want to see where it gets even better? I not only seeing Jesus, but I also I saw Buddha, Krishna, and Lemmy (motorhead) and Chester (Linkin Park). I am not joking. Some people called channeling, I don’t know because I never intentionally tried, or learned, it just happened. Or this can simply be my fears, traumas and dreams in form of visualizations. All I know is that; as much as looney tunes as is sounds for you, it sounds for me as well.
Second, let’s talk about God. For me, it’s energy. You can only feel it, like love. You can only feel it and love is inclusive. Now, Religion with their so called fathers never really understood my love for music, they didn’t even tried to listen to my side of the story. Based on Religion we are all son’s of God and I was “different” and I was not included in his love due to my Love for the “devils song”. What kind of “father (priest)” is that, that can’t love a different child? Well what kind of love is that? I mean, they can only love you with a condition?
We usually have so many judgments about this type of music, and for the people that listen to it. The problem is that most people don’t even stop to listen to what they are singing about. Which a lot times those songs are a philosophical metaphor. Some people might not understand the metaphors, is ok. Is not for everyone, I get it. However those metaphors saved me and guided me my entire life, witch now makes sense with my “clairaudience mediumship.” Rock took me to a beautiful place called LOVE; and love is inclusive.
Well that is my biggest trauma, on my 40th birthday when I launched my very first punk song for kids I really thought that the my world was going to end if I did that. Fuck up, right? All this time I was afraid of being evil, just because of my love for Rock and Roll and because of my sensitivity that I couldn’t explain. Turns out, my sensitivity is a gift! Am I evil? Of course not! Does that makes me a better person? Hell no! However it does make me a bigger asshole since it proves my theory that the only way to escape hell is to “unlearn what you have learned”, so here we go:
- Rock and Roll is good for the soul.
- Punk is not dead, punk is Dad. Punk is the definition of love (inclusion).
- Never grow up.
- Weed is medicine, helps you understand and accept what you can’t control.
- Coffee is medicine, to change the things you can control.
- I honestly believe that the truth comes out in form of art. Because art it really touches your soul, and that many times causes crisis. I love crisis because it gets the best of us. Meaning you are the storm!
So, yeah LOVE ROCKS and I am a fool (or an asshole depends on the perspective), that believes in love; that decided to follow my childhood dream dreams; and a fool that learned about inclusion through punk rock. My friends used to sing to me, “we don’t need another hero”, (that was Rirou’s theme song when I was 8 years old) and is 100% right! We don’t need another hero, we need more PUNKS! I honestly believe is time to Religion do some shadow work, like Slayer said “Pay back is a bitch!” Conclusion fuck depression, let’s Rock! How? Simple, do what you want by making peace with your inner child and for that there is nothing better than music therapy. Join me and let’s rock this world!
Oh, and master Yoda, he is the man! Since I said the world is depress, and the big thing with depression is that most of us don’t even know we are depress. Solution? An inner child revolution! That is what I did! Anarchy with a discipline of an ironman!
As I am writing my book with Marcone, my ghostwriter, he asked me if I had any plans for Halloween in 2020, since Halloween is a big deal in the house. For example, Luke was convinced on Halloween, and one year we made Luke’s chair an x-wing and last year we were a punk rock band where Luke was the drummer. Anyways, because 2020 is 2020, we didn’t go to any parties. I posted on my social media that this year I dressed up as an asshole as I usually do, meaning I was myself for Halloween. However, I didn’t lay low and I did a little something to celebrate. However, because is 2020 I decided to wait until Friday the 13th to announce what I did on Halloween.
First I must say that in the first chapter of my book I declare war to Religion, more precisely against the Catholic church which is the based of this shit. Well, is a philosophical war because the philosophical idea of Religion comes from Religare in latin, which means reconnect god and man. However, what religion does is disconnect us from ourselves by using fear. In my case Religion made me fear the only thing that made me human, my feelings! Which feelings are my spiritually, meaning my connection with own soul. Took me years to unlearn to not fear that, to be precise 33 years. The trauma is so deep that some days to write (I do all my notes handwritten) is physically painful. Even getting the guitar some days is hard, yes hello procrastination! During my 40 day walk through of the covid-420 I connected the dots in my life, and I planned my revenge. However, I was still fearful and in doubt if I should or shouldn’t do it, but when I held Amber, my second child, that was born 4 days before Halloween 2020 the fear melted away. At that moment I knew I had to proceed with the plan. I was being blessed again and the universe was telling me that I was ready!
Therefore on October 31st of 2020 I founded a Religion, Rock-it-ology Inc, which is based on my story, The Punkaste Prophecy. But wait, don’t I claim religion is child abuse? Well, remember I am a walking contradiction and yes, Religion is child abuse no doubt. However my Religion is not the same old story because is Punk and this Religion is hardwired to self-destruct. Like in a suicidal mission, to destruct Religion itself by exploding from the inside. You see, most Religions, teach us to find answers outside ourselves, when the answers are within; is just hard as fuck to go within. It’s actually painful, but at the same time the most liberating thing you can do. Ironic, right? Its like crossing a finish line of an ironman, you are in so much pain but extremely satisfied to have finished the hardest endurance race in the planet. Perhaps, life is the ironman of the universe, and boy about ironman, pain (physical and mental) and suicidal thoughts I have a PhD!
The reality is we are all disconnected but not from God, we are disconnected from ourselves and nature. So, yeah we do need to reconnect but not with god, but with ourselves. Which in the end it means the same thing. Ha! Don’t you love irony? Anyways, all this years all I wanted was to be heard before being judged as a Pothead, Punk, or Evil. The thing is Religion push me too far, and I got mad that I wasted years of pure joy. I am not here to teach you shit, I am not your savior, I am not your guru and I am definitely not Tony Robbins. I am an asshole but an asshole that faced his own trauma to regain my soul and connect my dots in life. My only goal is to be heard, and hopefully my story will motivate you to go within, facing your trauma and reclaiming your joy.
As a triathlon coach I always lead by example, and here is the same. That is why I decided to share how I am facing my trauma and finally learning all the iron maiden songs in the guitar. It’s painful sometimes, and I still cry like a baby. Yeah, I lost count how many times I cry listen to heavy metal. However, when I do that it cleanses my soul bringing me into a realm of joy! For me is not about the money, is about my soul, that is why I the only thing I am going to sell is the book because I am paying for it the ghostwriter help me write. I needed someone to help me because sometimes is too painful. Everything else is free because I really want to motivate others to escape hell and reconnect with themselves. The truth is, if we reconnect with ourselves Religion will be gone. We just need to reconnect with ourselves. Rock-it-ology Inc is non profit organization and the profits will be directed to mental health programs, nemaline myopathy research and advocating for real food, since diet is a big topic in my book.
So, Dear Pope, Satan’s work is done and I will leave the mark of the beast so considered this a check mate, better yet: Punkaste! Satan loves you. I am not Satan, but I became his best friend, and now I am raising hell!
“Woe to you, oh Earth and sea, for the Devil sends the Beast with wrath
Because he knows the time is short
Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the Beast
For it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty six”I left alone my mind was blank
I needed time to think to get the memories from my mindWhat did I see can I believe that what I saw
That night was real and not just fantasyJust what I saw
In my old dreams were they reflections of my warped mind staring back at me’Cause in my dreams
It’s always there
The evil face that twists my mind and brings me to despair
YeahThe night was black was no use holding back
‘Cause I just had to see was someone watching me
In the mist dark figures move and twist
Was all this for real or some kind of hell
Six six six the number of the Beast
Hell and fire was spawned to be releasedTorches blazed and sacred chants were praised
As they start to cry hands held to the sky
In the night the fires burning bright
The ritual has begun Satan’s work is done
Six six six the number of the beast
Sacrifice is going on tonightThis can’t go on I must inform the law
Can this still be real or some crazy dream
But I feel drawn towards the chanting hordes
They seem to mesmerize me can’t avoid their eyes?
Six six six the number of the Beast
Six six six the one for you and meI’m coming back I will return
And I’ll possess your body and I’ll make you burn
I have the fire I have the force
I have the power to make my evil take it’s course
During my life I went through 3 majors transformations. First was the mind, second was the body and third was the soul. By far my favorite one is the soul, because is where my life really started to make sense. This phase started when we got pregnant with Luke, and got really intense after he was born. That is when I started to go deep into my soul.
When Luke was born we spent 84 days in the NICU, and during that time we went to many life changing experiences. The truth there is something magical about been between life and death, something really raw, which I believe is the ultimate human experience. During that time in the NICU I started to realize that everything I ever believed was truth and as a very sensitive person I was able to feel this to the max. For me, that is a true blessing. The funny part is that spirituality has always been my favorite topic to talk about it, but I never talked about it. Why? Because I never felt I had the right to talk, simply because most people already judged me from the get go. I was either considered evil for my music style, or a pothead, or a punk that was radical and against everything, in other words a rebel. I literally felt I had no right to talk about this stuff, which was pass to me since a very young age not to question things.
The first second Luke was born he woke up my soul and my empath “superpowers”. As an empath we literally can feel peoples energy, we know when they are lying, or genuine, or coming from a place of love. Hard to explain, but is true, is like the force in star wars. Luke made me start realizing that everything was connected.
After we left the NICU I did not think twice, I went to do my so dreamed Reiki course and became a Reiki master. Reiki is all about energy, just like your soul. I mean, we are made of energy. I went in search of more since I wanted to put my soul back together. The soul for me is like a mathematical equation, that you go solving throughout your life. After I became a reiki master I started put my soul back together, and that is when I was able to solve many parts of the equation. Which brought me to a conclusion that I was not alone. I have been guided my entire and also blessed in so many levels. Luke is the proof. But why me? Such an unholy man. I mean, that is what I always heard that from all the “holy” people. For years felt like I was cursed. Like I was a magnet for those cruel judgment. Again, as an empath you feel that so intensely.
After a lot of meditation combined with marijuana, which is what I use for spiritual reasons. For me marijuana ampliphies my emotions, and not numb them like many people think. For me, that was super numb, marijuana helps more than we can imagine because it help me see life beyond the trauma. During those meditations I see and feel many things and that is when I realized why not me? Who better then me to tell a real punk story, with a happy ending. That is when I confirmed that was not a curse, it is a blessing.
Again, another blessing. Why? Being able to tell a true story like that is simply everything I ever wanted and challenge the status quo once for all. Now in this blog I won’t ever use the word God for me this word is being misused to cause more abuse in my eyes. Instead, I talk about the punk force because I do believe we have a soul mission. Meaning we all have a personal misson in this life, and some of us have also a collective misson. But my point is, I believe that the real “God” is an energy and is inside of us. Is that sparkle of light, that intuition, that inner voice. When that is combined with love can achieve great things. The issue is, most people look for the outside for answers, because going within is hard as fuck. Stepping in a church, following a book and praying for forgiveness is a lot easier than going within feeling the pain and facing your demons.
Therefore, I stopped being a figugitive but I felt the need to clear my name since I am 40 years old and people keep judging me the same way for 40 years. Even people that knew me since I was a kid, so mine as well use all the labels possible in my favor. Therefore I decided to be the first ever Movitional Pothead to motivate people to look withih for their own answers and find their mission in this life. I hope I don’t end up in a cross!
Ain’t no fucking hero in this life, be your own!
Hallowed by thy name is the second iron maiden song I strated to learn. The number of the beast is the first one I learned, is not up to speed yet, but getting there.
I’m waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime
Reflecting on my past life and it doesn’t have much time
‘Cause at 5 o’clock, they take me to the Gallows Pole
The sands of time for me are running low, yeah! When the priest comes to read me the last rites
I take a look through the bars at the last sights
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me Can it be that there’s some sort of error
Hard to stop the surmounting terror
Is it really the end, not some crazy dream? Somebody please tell me that I’m dreaming
It’s not easy to stop from screaming
The words escape me when I try to speak
Tears flow, but why am I crying
After all I’m not afraid of dying
Don’t I believe that there never is an end As the guards march me out to the courtyard
Somebody cries from a cell “God be with you”
If there’s a God then why has he let me go? As I walk all my life drifts before me
And though the end is near I’m not sorry
Catch my soul, it’s willing to fly away Mark my words, believe my soul lives on
Don’t worry now that I have gone
I’ve gone beyond to seek the truth When you know that your time is close at hand
Maybe then you’ll begin to understand
Life down here is just a strange illusion
Yeah, hallowed be thy name
Yeah, hallowed by thy name