Hello, to any who may read this. Thanks for dropping by. I just wanted to state for the record that while my blathering does contain an element of truth, I take a lot of creative license for fun. In short, I am full of shit.
This blog is, to me, a creative dumping ground where I can test out new thoughts, run them up the ol’ flagpole and see if anyone salutes. However, I am also a creative writer with a taste for the absurd, and I am not always 100 percent factual. For example, in my last post, “Memories of my Father,” the name of the neighborhood we lived in in Virginia was Maidstone Court, not Keystone Court. The rest is mostly true, although embellished. The neighborhood was a residential area for CIA employees and their families. My father really did parachute into Song Be and run guns into Cambodia, and he was there when Diem was assassinated, although how involved he may have been in that operation is sketchy at best. My father’s whole life was sketchy. I remember when he died and all of his relatives came up from Alabama for the funeral, my mother sat my sister and I down and said, “Be polite, but do not get close to these people.”
On other notes, when I review a movie or a book, I am being totally truthful, but also only writing my own opinions. My opinions are often erroneous, and they change over time. They are fluid. Nothing in my world view is set in stone, and everything is open to revision. I think this is a healthy way to live. The only constant in this world is change.
Have I had contact with other dimensional or extraterrestrial entities? As far as I can recall, no. Nonetheless, there have been some very strange occurrences and/or coincidences in my life, and I have been told time and again that there is no such thing as coincidence. I am not completely sold on that maxim, however. I did see two UFOs exactly as described in my previous post. And I think I saw a ghost once, and perhaps a “shadow person.” If you’d like to hear about that bit of weirdness, drop to the bottom of this brief interlude.
Would I like to have contact with other dimensional or extraterrestrial entities? Absolutely. I have tried to initiate contact many, many, many times in the past. I have gone on vision quests. I have ingested “sacraments” from psilocybin mushrooms to LSD to ayahuasca. I have even played with a Ouija board on more than one occasion, and honestly speaking, based on my experiences with that little “board game,” let me just say that I would never let my children play with one. Well, I would tell them to never do it, but in the end, they are their own minds and they will make their own decisions. Kids will be kids. As long as I can smirk over their possessed, twisted, and tormented form and say, “Told ya so!” I will be happy.
Having said that, it is also true that I do not have any children that I know of. And also, I do not like the word “kids” for referring to children. A kid is a baby goat, an animal traditionally used in sacrifice, so how we started referring to our children in that way confounds me. It was actually an eight-year-old child of a friend who told me that. She was playing with her friends, and I asked her, “What are you kids up to?” and she laid out her reasoning for why I should not call them kids. She made a very good point, and I try to adhere to it to this day.
But yes, I am always trying to initiate contact with otherworldly intelligence. That phone call I mention in “Memories of My Father,” the one with all the random beeps, I actually tried to get someone on the other end to actually talk to me, but to no avail. I eventually did just say, “Thanks for calling,” and hung up. If you are an otherworldly intelligence, or happen to know someone who is, please get in touch. My only rule is that you come as a friend, with all restraints that define that word. I do not know what I could bring to the table at such a meeting of the minds, but I will make every effort to at least provide sparkling conversation. If you would like me to sell out my own species in favor of a scheme that would benefit the earth as a whole, I might be on board with that. We’d have to work out the details, of course.
I am not often proud of the things that I post on this blog, and I may tweak them, but I do not delete anything. I leave everything I post up as a reminder to myself to try not to be such an idiot in the future. Usually, I succeed, and I become a different sort of idiot with each progressing post. I believe I will always remain an idiot of some sort, however. It’s important to stay grounded.
Today I had a thought, being my usual contemplative self. My thought was this: What if human suffering experienced over the course of our lifetimes is equal? What if it’s like that optical illusion where the parallel lines all look to be of different lengths or thicknesses, but when you view them individually, they are all the same?
What if, from a comparative standpoint, some lives appear much worse than others, yet when viewed separately, or, say, from the perspective of being outside this conscious life, all lives experience the exact same amount of suffering? Sure, the family that got bombed out of their home appears far worse than your boyfriend dumping you, but what if the overall emotional toll experienced over the course of a life is equivalent to any other? What if we are all following a formula that is disguised to not appear to be formulaic, but in the end, we are all given precise doses to affect our spiritual growth equally?
Obviously, it clearly appears that someone like a Leonardo DiCaprio has had a much better, much more enjoyable life than, say, a Harriet Tubman, but who knows what Leo has felt over the course of his life but Leo?
On second thought, nah, that just sounds incredibly ignorant and privileged. Perhaps it is karma-based, and people who suffer more in this life were real assholes in their previous incarnation?
Who the hell knows? See, this is why I want to talk to someone from outside this conditioned reality — I want to know of any other perspectives.
If you have bothered to read this far, I thank you for letting me waste your time. I hope you are at work, killing time (the best thing to kill) as you wait for the clock to tell you you can go home and waste your own time in whatever manner you see fit. I hope your life has minimal suffering. Just enough so that the good stuff is all the better.
Stay safe out there.
I may have seen a shadow person. And it wasn’t just me, but a friend of mine I was with at the time. It was around 3:00 a.m. and she was driving me home. We lived in a tiny college town about an hour and a half north of Pittsburgh (not the same town I grew up in). In small towns such as this, they turn off the traffic lights after midnight on weekdays, so there is just a flashing yellow caution light hanging over any intersection. We were heading into town, and we hit the first such yellow caution light, so my friend slowed down as she approached the intersection. Just as she was about to proceed forward, I spotted a blurry shape — sort of like the Predator in camouflage mode in those “Predator” movies — move smoothly across the road in front of us. I was so dumbstruck, I couldn’t even react. I just sat there and watched it cruise silently past right in front of us. Before I could even ask my friend if she had seen it, she blurted out, “What the hell was THAT?!” To which I replied, “You saw it, too?” Indeed, she had. Both of us had goosebumps, and she hit the gas and we beat it the hell out of there. Luckily for me, she was so spooked, she came up to my place to cool out for a while before she went home alone. I had only seen a big, person-sized blur, but she had apparently seen a bit more detail. She said it had looked like a person wearing a cape running across the road. I told her I wished that I had thought to roll down the window and yell to it, or to lean over and honk the horn, and she said she was damned glad that I hadn’t as she was sure it was something the attentions of which we did not want to draw.
Some people report seeing glowing red eyes with such things, but we did not.
To this day, we both remember that night in the exact detail I described above, but we still have no clue as to what the hell it was.