ONE

It was the fall of 1993. I was an Environmental Engineering student at the Polytechnic State University in the beautiful college town of San Luis Obispo, California. I was six months away from the completion of my degree, but building within me was a great feeling that the school, the teachers, and the subject matter itself were letting me down. I felt that I was one of the most exceptional students in my classes, yet I still felt unsatisfied. "The truth for me should not be this complicated, convoluted, and uninspiringly painful," I reasoned, sitting in my Advanced Wastewater Treatment class. "I had to at least not despise my own damn major!" I had always been an over-achiever I guess, with extremely high standards and was to a greater degree than most what I would call an "idealist" or a "perfectionist." I was "supposed to be" winding things up in my final year of college and preparing for my entrance into the "well paid" college educated work force, but somehow now life's course didn't look like it soon would easily be charted.

I was raised in a family of what I would categorize as rather "enlightened" and "spiritually aware" people who sought "higher roads" than did the average person. My father was what I would call a "spiritual seeker." He had, in fact, meditated for two hours a day, every day, for the past twenty-five years. He and my mother, before their divorce in 1978, were initiated into a Buddhist/Hindu type spiritual schism from India called "Sant Mat" by a guru named Maharaj Charan Singh. "The Master," as we called him, taught of things like "karma" and "reincarnation." He taught and required also that all of "His Initiates" on "The Path" and their families live lives of strict vegetarianism as a life practice. Somehow my parents, and most especially my Dad, for better or worse felt that "The Master" and his teachings aligned "perfectly" with how they witnessed and experienced life. My family was always a very loving one as I saw and experienced it, but we, in contrast to others, were vegetarians who also carefully considered concepts like "future lives," "karma," and our own "eternal souls."

So, as things were so confusingly and painfully unfolding for me nearing the end of that fall quarter in 1993, I had been reading many deeply philosophical, "new age", and "spiritual" type books that were moving and inspiring me; just as my school courses, I felt, were drastically failing me. I had read and learned from books like Ramtha, E.T. 101, and Seth Speaks. I was being taught about my own "psychic" and "super-intelligent Higher-Self" that was always ever present and ready to help me and guide me in bringing forth a powerful "New Age" of life on Earth, but I was also becoming increasingly self-absorbed and like I was living in my own world and truthfully I was. Strange as it may seem, this is what happened to me.

At that time, I was also an active senior member of Delta Upsilon fraternity, and as one would assume, I was one brother known for being quite "out there." My brothers affectionately labeled me as a "naturally high tree-hugger" who offered a viewpoint based in extreme non-judgment and expressed brotherly love. Somehow whatever safety net my fraternity might have provided for me at that time in my life only became a greater source of support and confidence for me in the days and months that would follow. As I look back upon it now, I realize even that the strong bonds of brotherhood that I shared there in the house, to no fault of the brothers, really enabled me to create for myself a launching pad of sorts into my own "reality," and that was exactly what I did.

I had been keeping a journal, which had been bleeding through into my classes for about a year as I would become disgruntled by the subject matter and drift off into whatever I wanted to contemplate, and I reasoned that I would assemble these writings into a book of my own and "write my way into a new life!" The thought of this filled me with a rather overwhelming and optimistic sense of joy because the "God" that I had found in these "new age" books was one of love, freedom, and truth and also the "truth was love," but somewhere there I think I blew a circuit inside of my head because imagine being a B+ student less than a year away from your own graduation, when you suddenly realize that you actually hate your major and are going to drop out of school in order to become a spiritual book writer.

I felt like I was being torn in two different directions at the same time. My family who lived in L.A. had been a great support for me, in all ways including financially, up to this point in my life, and I knew in the back of my mind somewhere, perhaps unconsciously, that backing out on college was like backing out on them in a way too, but I justified it in my own mind by reasoning that being "true to myself" was truly what was best for them. This situation was overwhelming me, but ultimately when I went to the office to turn in my "leave of absence" form, once fall quarter had ended, I felt as if it was "the best decision I ever made."

TWO

So, there I was, living in an apartment with two of my fraternity brothers, and just minutes from the University. I had no job, but I had a small amount of savings left over, from financial aide I think, and I also began selling copies of my forthcoming book in advance to everyone I knew for $14 each including to almost all of my fraternity brothers who were very supportive. The book would be called "The New Life Manifesto." As I experienced it, I was being inspired and led by my all-knowing "Higher Self," and as such I began writing more and more. It flowed naturally. The cover design was that of a cross with the symbols of a heart for love at the top, a light bulb for light in the center, an ankh for life below that, and a balance for justice at the bottom. Then forming the cross: a peace symbol on the left and a yin-yang symbol on the right for unity.

I made expensive five color screen printed T-shirts to sell also with the book's cover on them in red, yellow, green, blue, and black. I did all of this work first on a Macintosh LC computer and with my little ink jet StyleWriter printer. I named my publishing company Vice Press Publishing Company because my nickname in my fraternity was "Vice" shortened down from when I was first called "Vanilla Ice" as a pledge. I found a small book printer in Pasadena to use who did short run printing jobs. The man was a good Christian man, but I could tell that he was slightly critical and skeptical of what I was doing in my book, and I thought that he must be thinking that I should just become a Christian and stop with this foolishness. Nevertheless, he printed 200 copies for me, and as I remember it came out to something like $1400. The books came out in around May of 1994, and they were pretty nice although they had a black and white cover. My fraternity brothers, family, and friends were very happy to get them, although opinions regarding the content scattered in many different directions, and I really don't know how many people actually read it.

THREE

Following the teachings of my own book and inspired by a hundred spiritual and "new age" books of my own selection, I began to live my book. I don't recall when exactly it started, but about that time I began reading "signs" just about everywhere and adding meaning to just about everything. For example, one of these "signs" that I would continually see was 12:34 on the clock. It seemed to me for a while that this "sign" was speaking to me and telling me that the Universe was aligning like steps going up, and that it was now time for me to ascend into a "New World" of my own creation; a world of "unlimited love, light, life, and freedom" like I had read about.

At about that time, I had also begun to seriously wonder whether or not I myself was an "Ascended Master" from previous life incarnations. I began to think things like "death is an illusion," and "God is calling me forth," and that my book is a bridge into "Higher Dimension of Being." For example, like the Mayans who, as I had read in one of my books, had ascended from this dimension into a divine unlimited "Fifth Dimension" which was actually overlaid "on top" of our world, but that was simply invisible to "third dimensional" people. I also began to think via the assimilation of various "new age" books that there was a "Fifth Dimensional Doorway" that would open for me when the timing in the Universe was right. Now looking back, there appears to be some serious holes in my theory, but at that time this was how I was thinking.

I soon began communicating through my hands and via the Ouija Board. I was also spending a lot of time with a girl named Therese, who was kind of my companion on this exploration into these "further dimensions." She said later that she was fascinated with my mind and the "amazing things that went on inside of my head."

Slowly I began going farther out into this "reality." I began, I guess, to think that this was some kind of a test, and that if I followed God as far as He would ask me to go that then I would be rewarded with everything I was "creating" for myself in my own "personal reality." It was as if I was "testing the limits of myself, my faith, my God, and my reality." It was as if God was giving me a carrot on a stick, but when the facts had proven that my "God" had not given my miraculous manifestation to me, I rationalized that it was only because I still had not yet gone far enough. So, the adventure would continue.

At a certain point, I began to notice that the "moons" in my fingernails were leaving. Perhaps I simply needed more of a certain vitamin or mineral, but to me it was a sign that told me that I was "ascending." Later, the name of "Jehovah" actually appeared to disappear from a one book that I was reading. Thus, further proving to me that God could do anything. Did it disappear or not? Of course it couldn't have, but to this day, I don't know how I fooled myself into believing that one.

Also, there was a New York Knicks versus Indiana Pacers playoff game in which "God" allowed me to put the "spirits" of the NBA All-Stars into the Pacer players. Suddenly, I watched as the Pacers actually came alive in the last minute of the game coming back from like a 10 point deficit to beat the Knicks; all just after I had been "guided by God" to put the "spirits" of Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley, etc. into the Pacer players. I thought God had just made the Pacers the Eastern Conference champions to show me His Power, but as I found out later, what I thought was Game 7 was really game 6, and the Knicks won the next game, thus winning the series.

Voices began speaking to me in my head as I did the Ouija Board, and slowly they joined me wherever I went, Ouija Board or not. Soon I could Ouija just with my right index finger on the palm of my left hand. Later, I walked out along California Blvd and found an old rug sitting there on the grass alongside the street. The voice guided me to sit and meditate on that carpet. I did this for an hour or so, feeling "timeless," as people and cars just passed me by.

I went to a bank teller and upon writing a check out to myself, I deposited $100,000 into my own bank account under the direction of my "spirit guide" believing that it would really manifest. This never did manifest, but I didn't find that out for a week and in the meantime it did somehow give me complete permission to lie all of my financial worries aside!

Therese and I went to a Chinese restaurant with pictures on the walls of Buddha and other "Spiritual Masters". She and I became fellow "reincarnated Ascended Masters" in our own minds in that restaurant as I remember, and it was there that I, someone who had been a vegetarian all my life ordered chicken. I was in a mode of trying to break free from all constraints that had ever bound me. So, I guess, that's why I tried to eat it for the first time purposefully there at the age of 23, but after a bite or two I began feeling ill.

Nevertheless, I soon began doing all kinds of "extraordinary" things. I was operating in a space what I felt to be "full of love" and "spontaneously free." I began "divining" my way around with my right index finger on the center of the steering wheel in my car, a teal Geo Storm. I soon drove way out to the end of Foothill Blvd turned right where it came to a dead end, and found rose fields as far as the 20/20 eye could see. "These my son are your rose gardens. You have a great kingdom in heaven and it shall be yours one day," said the voice of "God" inside of my head.

So, I continued on my "spiritual journey" to what I saw as the edge of the "now" exploring the possibility of how free indeed I was and could possibly be. I began being led around by music. I had "coke bottle" strong prescription eye glasses, which I lost, and then I proceeded to break my contact lenses on a "Leap of Faith" as I myself had entitled a section in my own book, and so I walked out to confront the world and whatever was there, relatively blind for all intents and purposes. I soon began to believe also that when the time was "right" God would miraculously correct my eyesight.

Later that day, without my contacts, I actually dunked a basketball on the 10-foot hoops; it was one of those very rare occasions! I did it, as I remember, because the voice of the "spirit guide" inside of my head challenged me to do it, and this voice said that if I did it I would get all that I desired to manifest in my life. Then sitting there on the sidelines in the gym, yet in my own world in my own mind, some guys came up and asked me to play in a game with them. So, in my practically blind state, I did, and what a terrible challenge it was; but I did surprisingly well, and although I bumbled away a pass or two, nobody knew of my vision-impaired condition.

The next day, I walked into a clothing store, and after browsing the aisles, I found an outfit that I liked and pulling it off the rack, I went to try it on. Then after walking out of the stall thinking that it looked pretty good on me, I was shocked when in turning and looking up to my right and over the cash register was a wooden display in the shape of a cross wearing the exact same outfit that I had just tried on.

Back in my apartment the following day, the Ouija Board spoke and told me that I was, "Christ Vice. The Second Coming of Christ." The clock struck 12:34 and I knew that my Grandmother had won the lotto, because I had manifested millions of dollars for my family and myself. That's what I felt and believed had happened. So, I went downtown in San Luis to the local car dealership where I saw a Red Dodge Viper in a window showroom. The "spirit guide" speaking in my head then told me that this car was mine and that its name was "Vice." I felt elated and I sat in the car, felt the leather seats, and held the steering wheel in my own hands; although it said, "Do not touch." I acted as if it was mine and believed that it was, and when the salesman came out to talk to me I said I wanted this car and would pay for because my Grandmother had won the lottery. So, we got up and went to call her. I knew that she had won, even though I hadn't at all talked to her about it. Luckily for me, her phone was busy. So, I said I would be back; and after speaking to her later and finding out the truth, I saw that I had gotten out of that one luckily enough.

FOUR

During my journey, I had slowly gotten it into my head that if I stared into the sun, the sunlight would actually correct my eyesight like the laser eye surgery that I would actually get years later. This staring into the sun actually did no harm, but it did no good either. Perhaps it was because my eyes could not focus clearly, and that is why it did no harm, but I learned years later that staring into the sun could give you cataracts. So, I guess I still may conceivably have to confront that truth some day.

Nevertheless, San Luis and its surrounding areas; even to a man as nearsighted as I; were indeed naturally beautiful places, and I soon slowly drove all of the way out to a secluded beach near Morro Bay. This was that same beach where I was initiated as a pledge into my fraternity years earlier and where we returned twice a year in the middle of the night to initiate all of the pledge classes. I walked down the steep sandy and isolated beach to the ocean where I proceeded to remove all of my clothes because of the fact that the song, "We're just going down into history; if I strip for you, will you strip for me," began playing in my head. I slowly put my feet in the cool ocean water. I walked out as far as I could go, and then looking up to the sun, I heard the voice in my head say, "Call to the Lord, your Father, in the sun!" So, I yelled out "Father!" louder and louder, walking out farther and farther into the water until the voice was satisfied. Then after a long moment of silence finally the voice replied to me, "That's the sun! You're the father. So, why are you out here naked yelling at the sun?" So, seeing then this apparent "test" as complete, I returned to the sand whereupon I dressed myself, and began climbing up this rather amazingly inclined beach. Suddenly, while climbing up the beach upon hands and feet, I saw a vision inside my head of the cover of Bob Marley's "Uprising" album, and I imagined that I myself must be "spiritually uprising!"

The next night it was dark, and I saw "signs". I drove and was guided it seemed down to Pismo Beach talking to myself all of the way. Finally, I parked and went into a beach resort that I had snuck into many times before although no one ever cared. There was a long wooden staircase down to the beach, and as I stood there in the moonlight looking down out over the ocean everything seem to come together in a flash of insight which showed me what I was going to do next. It was like karma or fate or destiny!

As I had written in my book in a section entitled "Learning To Fly," I was going to leap off that rock, and I was going to ascend up into the "Fifth Dimension." I ran up the steep side of this one particularly massive rock which rose up out of the sand near the shore in the pitch dark like I knew it like the back of my hand. I got to the top and just sat there meditating. I asked the voice inside my head, which I was sure now was the voice of God, to just let me rise up and levitate like Aladdin did on his magic carpet. The thing was that I slowly began to realize that to levitate wasn't "the way." I slowly began to "admit it to myself" looking out over the ocean which blew its cold breeze into my nearsighted eyes that saw only a blurred moon and faint stars in the sky which reflected like a collidescope off of the waves crashing out ahead of me and below.

I don't remember anything when my foot left that ledge twenty some odd feet above the ground that night in Pismo Beach. All I know is that I blacked out. All I know is my spirit pulled with all of the strength that I had inside of myself trying to leap into the sky and bring my body with it. All I know is the pain that I felt when I hit the ground, and upon regaining awareness of myself, knowing that I had broken my hand - the left one, and seriously hurt my back.

Luckily, although I had blacked out, I had leaped completely clear of the rock and landed first on my feet. I gradually gathered myself together, hobbled my way back to my car, and slowly drove home. So, the next morning after meditating in the shower for two hours believing that I could heal my own hand and back, a fraternity brother finally took me to the emergency room hospital, and there the county mental health department made me sign a contract promising that I would not do anything to harm myself or others within the next 24 hours.

On the morning of June 12, 1994, I woke up, and hearing once again words from the song, "We're just going down into history; if I strip for you, will you strip for me?" in my head, I preceded to take off my clothes, walk out of my apartment, down the stairs, around the back, and out onto fraternity row along California Blvd.

The only other interesting thing I guess you could say that I did that day was to stop only to pick up a flower alongside the boulevard, although I was indeed for all practical purposes blind to all of the details of the world. I think I heard someone yell from a passing car, something like "Yeeeeah! Vice!" I got all of the way down to the end of the street before a police car circled around me, wrapped me up in a blanket, and with a look of judgment and the shake of his head took me San Luis Obispo County Mental Health.

I stayed in the mental hospital for three nights still believing largely that I knew what I was doing, that what I had experienced was "real," and although nothing ever manifested as far as with my eyesight or the money, I had experienced that which I can only describe as quite "miraculous." I had visitors from my fraternity and family come to see me in the hospital who were completely perplexed and very worried about me, but I still held outright boldly to my self-righteous "I know what I'm doing!" stance; which I now realize was mostly simply a self-defense mechanism. My Father did ultimately manage to breakthrough to me, and he helped to pull me out of it mostly when he later grabbed my Ouija Board and threw it across the room!

I was diagnosed as being manic, but I didn't believe it at the time and would not allow them to give me any Lithium medication. I told them that I never had any intention of harming myself, nor anyone, and after three days they let me go. I got surgery to repair my hand, and spent about 3 months living with my Grandparents trying to lose my Ouija Board addiction, trying to recover the 30 lbs I had lost during the entire experience, and trying to get my feet back on the ground; and in the end that's what I did.

Now I take Depakote and am very clear concerning the concept of common sense. Still, I continue to write.