Preview – “The Carneeg” by Janr Ssor

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Trailer To “The Carneeg” By Janr Ssor

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The Carneeg – Chapter 2 – Help Me Write It!

Written By Janr Ssor – Published By Janr Ssor. Copyright 2017 by Janr Ssor and Dr Joseph A Ross, 15300 Lake Wildflower Rd, DelRay Beach Fl 33434. All rights reserved. REPRODUCTION OF THIS AND ALL TEXT ON THIS WEBSITE IS RESTRICTED! Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author and the efforts of E-Publishers to provide media in the format you want and need. — Read and comment or email  (JanrSsor(at)gmail.com) your suggestion!  Help me write it! Instructions? -> ReadHere 

Beyond Words  (Chapter 2)

In another dimension and over 30,000 years away in space-time from Earth, Earth’s coming challenges were about to be indirectly sensed by the biped Creon known verbally as “star.”

Another biped like being, Red, who was also a Creon, could have been recognized as a possible descendent of humanity from his physical similarities to human form; but, that original humanoid form had vanished from his land nearly 30,000 years ago and was no longer of any historical significance. Red could also have spoken with his remaining vestigial vocal chords but that would have been a frustrating and pointless waste of time.  His name was not spoken it was pictured. Vocalized names were for creatures who used sound to try and communicate their mental images; the Creon had no need for vocal names or vocalization.

Red, like most of his brethren stood six feet tall. His massive head was nearly as wide as his shoulders and somewhat vertically oblong. His neck looked like a wide aged tree root, well anchored to his muscular shoulders and at the top forming an arch to suspend his alien-eyes.red.gold.pngheavy head. Red’s nose and mouth looked like something out of a little green man from space photo, both being made of slits and dots. It was his oval eyes that were most captivating. They were five times the size of his ancestor’s eyes and held large red snake like oval pupils whose inner edge were rimmed in bright gold. He had no eyebrows but between where they would have been was a very slightly shallow indentation with a hint of bluish skin tone, his third eye. The top of his head was hairless but the skin covering his head was ridged all the way back to the nape of his neck where two ridges traveling vertically with his spine dove into his head (this was a cartilaginous covering over the large arteries and veins supplying blood and cooling to his oversized brain. His body, legs and arms were very much humanoid other than for the six multi-jointed toes and fingers on each extremity.  Genetic engineering did have advantages over evolution.

Red who was a genetic engineer was known simply by an image of a red dwarf star surrounded by a halo of space time distortion. It was a summoning image that he was very fond of. When communicating with lesser intellects he, however, allowed them to call him “Red” since, for him,  hearing was not as frustrating an experience as attempting to vocalize.  He could certainly hear, see, sense touch and, in fact, had sensory abilities the many lesser beings could not even imagine.  However, he mostly communicated and achieved his daily goals by the use of his many PSI skills. Being called sonically was not something he liked but something he tolerated. He didn’t need to be called at all as he could sense his callers thoughts but it helped them to know he was aware of them when they spoke, if he turned his eyes upon them as they frequently did for each other.  

Red’s colleague whose summoning was an image of a hydrogen atom, specialized in environmental physics and space-time-dimensional travel. He too, of course, had a name for the convenience of lesser beings; he allowed them to call him “Hy.”  

Hy and Red were members of a civilization descended from the ancient Illuminati. They called themselves the “Creon” for the lesser beings but visualized themselves as the Creator (a black hole)  because they had been creators of new lifeforms for thousands of years.

At the moment, Red and Hy were distracted from their work by an image from “newly born star” who accepted the vocal name “Star.”  Star was about a twick away and was working nearer the core of Terra. At his station, at the moment, he was viewing most of the Milky Way Galaxy space traffic display screens. The metallic glowing head rest he reclined against helped him interact with the galactic subspace computer mind (the Cosmic Mind) that coordinated and monitored all space travel in his galaxy.  His shared image was telling Hy and Red that several spaceships traveling in space-time-dimensional travel were in route to their home world, Terra. It was in fact, most unusual too as precognitive scans of the life forms in the ships clearly showed them to be only at the prime level of intelligence. This was nine levels less than the Creon. They should not have been able to attain this type of travel or even vaguely understand it. These beings were as primitive as the Illuminati were when they began building their new world near the core of Terra. Millennia ago, the Illuminati had experienced an unusual genetic evolutionary leap forward, they had begun to develop telepathy. In addition, they were already far above their brethren in intellect. This had led to them separating themselves from their ancient surface civilization by moving underground to be closer to the geothermal energy of Terra and the  black hole at the center of every planet. They had planned and succeeded on using its power to empower their civilization with endless energy. It also enabled them to travel to the stars by FTL technology. They no longer had anything in common with the surface dwellers, who seemed at last cured of their desire to wage wars.

Star continued to share images that made it clear that the three ships in route to Terra were not only traveling in a way primitives should not be able to do but were in addition traveling from a world that was a dimensional harmonic of theirs. In essence, they were coming from a world almost identical to theirs in many ways but, of course, not identical in all and from a time similar to when their ancestors the Illuminati moved underground. This was something only a being like a Spheron of Creon creation could readily accomplish. This was of interest as it might hint at a genetic modification or mutation that was as yet unknown to the Creon. They agreed that these beings were worth studying when they arrived. They would entice them to come to their citadel, Creon, and then examine them like any new species.

Red and Hy agreed that Star’s interruption was worth noting and sent Star an image of soft rain causing the soon landed spaceships to sprout into vines. Star was pleased that they were looking forward to the outgrowth of this coming event.

Red resumed imaging the double helix  and its new possible modification as their research work’s previous focus continued.  They were close to completing the genetic design for a version of Creon that could live on Aquaris II where ocean pressures were far greater than on Omega-2, many miles under the ocean surface. They were pleased with the new beings expected appearance too, as making the new form parabolic meant less energy expended by the Aqueon in navigating the ocean’s depth. The next phase of design required a sexual response between Aqueons.  A response that would trigger a positive evolutionary pattern. Neur joined them instantly as he was, of course, aware of their need for a brain and hormone expert. Neur had recently chosen a retinal ganglion cell image for his summoning and allowed lower life forms to call him “Neur.” The three formed one and began redesigning the helix with instant images of a final birth product for technical review and, of course, to choose from. The coming arrival of the Earth beings was of no significance for now.

……………….  to be continued.  Feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions by Comments to this text or in private by emailing me at  JanrSsor(at)Gmail.com

(you must change the "at" to the @ symbol for email)

 

 

 

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The Carneeg – Chapter 1 – Help Me Write It!

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This is the first installment of my story “The Carneeg” which is in progress!

 You are invited to read, make suggestions  (click for detailsand share your thoughts. Who knows you may end up changing the destiny of the story, afterall it is in the draft creation state only!   This is an experiment in writing for me as it shares some unusually cruel imagery to define the characters two radical terrorists who will be a LONG focus of this story…..

Written By Janr Ssor – Published By Janr Ssor. Copyright 2017 by Janr Ssor and Dr Joseph A Ross, 15300 Lake Wildflower Rd, DelRay Beach Fl 33434. All rights reserved. REPRODUCTION OF THIS AND ALL TEXT ON THIS WEBSITE IS RESTRICTED! Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author and the efforts of E-Publishers to provide media in the format you want and need. — Read and comment or email  (JanrSsor(at)gmail.com) your suggestion!  Help me write it! Instructions? -> ReadHere 

Destruction And Creation

“Free Energy For All” was the ubiquitous headline of the 21st century,  when the physics genius Robert Bussardi finally succeeded in creating simple miniature fusion generators. His polywell fusion device changed the face of the world! It inspired world wide celebration other than in the oil rich Middle East and Pakistan. In Nilore, Pakistan, where radical Islamic physicists were determined to turn this freeworld blessing into its destruction, there was a particular burning resentment in the heart of Muhammad Al Zearbings. Zearbings was a physicist who had been working on the same research program at Pinstech University. Much of his research engineering was stolen from Bussardi’s team by an inside spy.   

Everyone in the USA praised a small team of developers, who had walked in the deceased genius’ footprints, and created a device about the size and shape of a football, that could power a town for centuries.  It was Dr Bussardi’s dream come true; unfortunately posthumously. He had died of cancer  which was likely caused by our civilization’s many chemical miracles, such as plastics containing BPA.

Everything has its price of course. We knew that for every advancement in technology the environment could change. Every good thing could be turned into an equal or greater evil but such risks stimulated human creativity and could hardly be avoided. Small losses as a result of technological progress could hardly compare to the huge empowerment devices like this fusion football seemed to offer mankind! The simplicity of  Dr Bussardi’s device made it a mass production hero.  Copper power lines that had been ubiquitous in every developed country, vanished from the horizon in under a year.  China mass produced a clone of this device and it quickly spread to the world.

In all the Western news media an age of prosperity was predicted and the long stretching worldwide recession quickly came to an end.  Nearly everywhere fear and depression vanished as oil tankers were hauled into docks to be converted into around the world cruise ships.  Everyone seemed thrilled and thankful, except in the Middle East where oil, overnight, seemed virtually valueless. Iran, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Syria and even Venezuela met to discuss their dilemma as power slipped through their fingers like sand in a desert storm.

There was, however, the brilliant but mentally twisted nuclear scientist in Pakistan, Muhammad   Al Zearbings, who could not conceive that Allah would take power from the grasp of his chosen people.  Working feverishly with the help of A. Q. Kahan’s disciple, he had a plan.  Zearbings could not conceive that this power source was designed to empower the debased followers of Christianity and Judaism.  Zearbings was sure Allah planned their destruction, not empowerment.  He was positive that somewhere within this powerful creation, was the end of opposition to Islam’s conquest of  the Earth.

With mass production of the polywell device, every home in the world soon have a fusion generator. Every car would be powered by simply plugging its  retrofitted engines into a  garage wall outlet.  In just 10 years,  the  Islamic iron grip on the world’s throat appeared to have changed to a handful of rust.

Super fast saucer shaped space ships were being launched to mine asteroids for precious metals and that took wealth from the Islamic controlled African nations. In contrast to Zearbings’ home in Pakistan,  the people of the  West believed they were again basking in the light of the Creator’s blessings of prosperity.

It was early in 2035 that Zearbings awoke to a miraculous day that he was sure spoke of Allah’s secret plan for the spread of Sharia and the Caliphate. That morning upon awakening, he forced himself upon his wife, Afreeda, and abused her which he knew made her feel sick. He told her this was to remind her of her duties as an obedient wife and that she was not to again use the excuse of being tired when he desired sex at bed time. He was sure she would remember her place for months to come, but he was certain he would find other reasons to dominate her which gave him great satisfaction. He recalled how his father, a qaazi (judge) in his home village, had meted out justice to those who violated community standards. He saw himself in this role too.  Eventually, he imagined, he was sure Afreeda would get to like whatever he forced upon her, after all that was a women’s place.

Later that morning, in the city of Nilore, in Islamabad’s capital territory,  at Pinstech research center, Zearbings had an accident.  A flash of light, from the polywell device he was redesigning, burned a twenty foot wide hole through forty feet of concrete and rock in just under one hundredth of a second.  What was an absolutely safe fusion device, according to Bussardi’s legendary company,  was soon to become the basis of a thermonuclear device of unprecedented power.  Sharing his discovery with a network of  supposedly disbanded terrorists, was no problem for Zearbings.  With funding from Iran, a mass production facility was speedily purchased in China and the “newly enhanced” devices were quickly sold worldwide at incredibly low prices.  Unknown to the world’s buyers, a secret chip and trigger hidden in the electronics reported the devices location and allowed its detonation from any place in the world.  

Simultaneously, a meeting of  ICE (the Islamic Caliphate In Exile) was hastily arranged by Muhammad  Al Zearbings in Raqqa, Syria and plans were made for the conquest of the Christian world and all other kafir nations. It had to be a dramatic plan that would bring the world’s kafir leadership to their knees overnight!  Zearbings had a plan that could utilize the current terrorist training camps to produce such an overnight conquest which he would be able to launch in under a year’s time. Knowing his genius, ICE backed him 100 percent as he had anticipated.

Al Zearbings would need 4 dedicated terrorists to begin his glorious plan but how would he accomplish this? Then he thought of an old contact, Al Anif Malik, who he knew trained terrorists. Al Anif was a very dangerous man by his judgement but this was what the mission required. He recalled smoking bowls of hashish with Al Anif in college, even though it was clearly haram (unlawful) by Islamic decree. Other students knew about this but no one would dare speak against Al Anif knowing his reputation for violence, cruelty and his families wealth and power.

Zearbings recalled that Al Anif, with his handsome face and dark muscular form, would easily entice young muslim women into “special” nighttime  meetings. Al Anif would convince these women, who were also students, to sneak out and meet him, in the dark of night at service tents outside Pinstech, allegedly to experience hashish. Al Anif, would add what amounted to a date rape drug to the water in the bongs the ladies smoked from. He would later sodomize them when they were too drugged to resist. Though Zearbings had thought it humorous at the time and in fact participated, he had decided to distance himself from Al Anif shortly after Al Anif’s arranged marriage took place. Apparently only a few months after their marriage,  Al Anif had cut his wife’s throat after she admitted to looking repeatedly at a single man who was their neighbor in hopes of finding someone who would treat her less cruelly.  Al Zearbings had decided that playing with fire was more danger than he wanted at that point in his life; but, now that was precisely what he was looking for!

The evening after the ICE meeting, Al Zearbings called his old friend Al Anif Malik (known as The Cruel King) and said, “Salam Alaikum, my dear friend! I have great news.”  Al Anif Malik responded, “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam, my dear friend!”

Al Zearbings continued, “With the blessings of Allah, I have conceived a plan for the final and rapid conquest of the Kafir nations and the establishment of our world Caliphate.  I met with our friends at ICE and they are all in agreement with my plans. What my strategy will be is, however, dependent upon you and I know I can count on you. You will receive my thoughts tomorrow morning by personal courier, who will announce his presence with the password we used in college. Then, we will meet to discuss its implementation at the end of this week. May Allah be with you.”   

Two days after the weekend meeting a newly inspired Al Anif Malik was making big plans and drooling at the thought of weeks of justifiable sexual exploitation of Greek women!  From terrorist training camps dispersed over several nations in the Mideast, twenty of the finest jihad recruits were selected and flown to Izmir, Turkey to train. Izmir was close enough to Greece to supply the needed Christian women upon whom his jihadists would train to develop proper mental discipline.  It was essential that they recognize the true inferiority of the kafir nation’s men, women and children and so be able to kill them without a second thought. Al Anif Malik was the most experienced man suited for this job. Al Anif had long ago learned how to pervert the words of the Holy Koran to his needs.  He knew well how to stoke the fires of bigotry and hatred. He also knew how to coerce even the best of Imams to his purpose after all he had learned how to take loving passionate young Islamic Men and turn them into violent, heartless martyrs. With this power in his heart there was nothing that could stop him! Perverting the Holy Koran to his evil needs never cost him a moment of sleep.

Al Anif Malik, known to many as the “father of jihadist training,” planned to select from the twenty recruits, four very exceptional men who would each kill millions of Christians easily without a second thought as part of Zearbings’ plan.  They had to be men who could be counted on 100 percent. They had to have no second thoughts ever!  This he knew would require the repeated exercise of the most exquisite cruelty on a daily basis for months at a time. It would, however, be a cruelty transformed into the sword of Allah’s justice in their minds.

Al Anif Malik knew from much past experience how to accomplish this. He had the new training procedure and facilities operable within two weeks time.  It was easy to teach a jihadist to think of a Christian or Jew as nothing more than an animal like a chicken. It was then easy to cut through their necks with a knife, for public TV, with no remorse and, in fact, great pride. After all, the Christians, Jews and other non-believers were kafir, far lower in spirituality than a chicken!

Each of his four future heroes would have to be able to kill millions with no second thoughts, this was a slightly bigger challenge than usual.  To do this he had, kidnapped over two hundred exceptionally sexy beautiful Christian women from Greece for his men to practice upon.  Izmir was close enough to Greece to provide as much a supply as they needed. The Greek islands of Sporades and Cyclades were in easy reach as was the mainland.

In the first evening the twenty students met with Al Anif Malik in a large tent centrally placed in the hastily renovated camp.  An attractive brown eyed twenty four year old female Greek college student had been tied fully naked to a sturdy bed center stage.  She had tape across her mouth to keep her silent, as terror was evident in her feverously darting large eyes.

Al Anif Malik explained that tonight he would teach his recruits how to attain true purity in Allah’s eyes by learning how to accept their coming blessings of the seventy two virgins.  In addition, they would learn the purification of the kafir by slow death and extended pain (his own interpretation of the prophet’s teaching). To reinforce his distortions of the prophet’s teachings he had cleverly selected quotes from the Koran.  In addition, to reinforce the truth of his teachings, there were planned daily lessons from his experienced and cooperative “Imams.”  His Imams were very cooperative since their families had been visited by Anif’s colleagues as a motivator for their cooperation. Al Anif also knew every verse of the Koran by heart and how to pervert it to his most violent needs.

With a look of fiery commitment on his face and a deep baritone voice, Al Anif, while waving the Koran in his right hand, nearly shouted to his recruits, “Islam teaches that Muslim men can take “captives of the right hand” (Koran 4:3, 4:24, 33:50). The Qur’an says: “O Prophet! Lo! We have made lawful unto thee thy wives unto whom thou hast paid their dowries, and those whom thy right hand possesseth of those whom Allah hath given thee as spoils of war.”  Rape of the kafir is therefore your right and your blessing as we are at war with all of the infidels!  

Al Anif continued, “On a daily basis, for your training, each of you will take turns selecting one woman and then the twenty of you will repeatedly rape her for one day and take any satisfaction from her that you desire.  Then to punish her for the wickedness of seduction and kafir being, you will  suspend her naked by a body harness tied to a rafter in a barn like structure for purification by the methods defined in my coming quote from the Koran. Tonight we will practice on this kafir Christian woman behind me and then every day for the next twelve months you will repeat this process until I can judge which four of you, due to your fervent excellence, will be chosen to bring the Caliphate to the Earth! This is an honor never before offered any man on Earth!  We now have the means to establish the Caliphate overnight with the blessing of your actions! Four of you will be Allah’s honored army of peace!”

To his speech there was thunderous replies in the unified shouting of “Allah Akbar” from his twenty gifted students!  

Al Anif then proceeded to untape the woman’s mouth, so she could scream, and with great enthusiasm raped her, in front of all his men. He then requested each in turn do the same in any manner they chose. Three hours later, he again asked his recruits to be seated.

Al Anif addressed them again and said, “Allah promises punishment of the kafir in the next life,“In the Koran, Al-Maeda Verse No:33, it states The only reward for those who war against Allah and His messengers and strive to commit mischief on the earth is that they will be slain or crucified, have their alternate hands and feet cut off, or be banished from the land. This will be their disgrace in this world, and a great torment shall be theirs in the next except those who repent before you overpower them. This is your divine responsibility. So we know that Allah is forgiving and merciful.”

Furthermore In the next life,  the Koran (22:19-22) promises –  “These twain (the believers and the disbelievers) are two opponents who contend concerning their Lord. But as for those who disbelieve, garments of fire will be cut out for them; boiling fluid will be poured down on their heads. Whereby that which is in their bellies, and their skins too, will be melted; And for them are hooked rods of iron. Whenever, in their anguish, they would go forth from thence they are driven back therein and (it is said unto them): Taste the doom of burning.”

“You will ask no questions of the training process but know in your hearts that it is Allah’s inspiration to all of us. The text of the Koran defines what you must become expert at doing, for in the next life you will be Allah’s servant even more than now!  Remember the kafir people, with their scanty dress and impure actions seek to seduce and corrupt our nation and they deny Allah! Their immodesty is clearly an affront to Allah. To purify them, you will now and every other day, after a day’s rape, perform that which I will teach you by demonstration.”  

As he spoke two men behind him had placed the now conscious young woman in a torso harness of chains and hoisted her by a pulley to be suspended in the air above where the bed had been. Again her eyes were filled with terror and her face stretched in an expression of anticipated suffering.  On her left was a vat of smoking waxy substance and a large ladle like object carved out of wood. On her right was a barrel of icy water and another ladle.

Each trainee was given a razor sharp scimitar like the one now held by Al Anif and asked to stand, and copy to the best of their creativity whatever Al Anif would soon perform. They were also told to be as careful as possible not to kill the woman as suffering was essential to her purification and to their service to Allah. Al Anif then laughed and explained how a carefully guided swing of the scimitar could remove any part of a body, no matter how strong the bone might be, and how hot wax could quickly seal the spot a limb had once occupied. He looked out upon the audience and asked, “Is there any question of what we will do next to honor Allah?”  A young man raised his hand and asked, “Mudarris, what shall we do with the icy water?”  Al Anif replied, use it to keep her conscious so that the suffering may be prolonged!”  Al Anif then walked up to the suspended women and swung his scimitar toward the toes of her left foot.

An hour later as he again regrouped his students in his tent’s teaching room, Al Anif explained that this would be a routine each day as he said,  “During this holy activity, you are tasked with reciting mentally or verbally, at all times,  Allah is great, Allah has created suffering for purification before death for even the most vile of humanity!  If the woman dies, you will then select another and continue. In this manner, one day will be a day of pleasure for you and the next one of purification for her. Every day until I choose you as fit for the ultimate service to the coming Caliphate, you will repeat this holy training task, with enthusiasm, and become expert at it.”

In Just six months Al Anif had his four heroes.  At a meeting with Zearbings, each bringer of the Caliphate was presented with a new micro version of the Bussardi fusion generator.  Each device was now reduced to what appeared to be a one and one half inch football, plated with gold, designed to be worn about the neck as a necklace. Each was also given a soft red ball, which illuminated with a nearly blinding red light upon compression. They were told that once compressed by hand to the point of illumination (which took a very strong grip), its release would trigger the thermonuclear weapon at their neck and destroy an entire city in less than a second.  They were to travel to New York, Los Angeles, London and Paris to await further instructions.  They clearly understood that they would be killing millions of kafir people in the name of Allah and they clearly had no hesitation, knowing what this would mean for their dream of the Caliphate!  

Suitable flights, hotels and passport papers had been arranged for them and they were to be ready for their role in the birth of the Caliphate, in just one week. They would keep in touch with Al Anif Malik by a micro receiver worn in the ear much like a hearing aid.

 

The required commands would be received at the appropriate time.

Discovering The Touch – a short story

Janr’s mind, clinging to oblivion, vaguely began to sense that his whole body was caught in a taut muscular arch insisting upon continuation.  As the reluctant fog slightly cleared from his mind he universe-1044107_640realized he was stretching his lower back,  cramped from a night of being forced to sleep on the hard unfolded convertible couch. He tried ever so gently to initiate a meditative relaxation, to avoid consciousness, but it was futile. The soft rain of his intentions to sleep made the fertile soil of his mind yield a garden of sprouting questions as to why. Consciousness was about to bloom despite his best efforts. Even with years of meditation experience, its narcotic like balm could still be elusive.

He did not want to awaken, even to daydreams he might control, reality today was just too cold and empty! Childhood had been just around the corner and now he was 70 years old and remembering.  This particular remembering was just too painful and confusing.  What had happened to his mind years ago?  Were his emotional daydreams  of pre-adolescence really reborn childhood memories that he had long ago buried to help keep his sanity? He closed his eyes in one last attempt to avoid full consciousness but thoughts that had just broken soil were now tall plants growing and blossoming all around him. His memories of childhood were rapidly filling the landscape and converting the desert plain into what he now recalled looked like the dense Everglades back in the 60’s when he had moved to Miami, Florida. Consciousness was the sunlight illuminating their time-lapse like photographic growth.  There was nothing he could do about it.

strangler.fig.goole.for.ruesHe wondered, was this experience something that happened to your brain about this time in life,  when you were 70 or so years old?  Like it or not memories long buried with intention, no matter how strong that intention, would blossom into being or depending on their content crawl from their graves like strangling vines that could not rest in peace.

One such vine like memory engulfed a tree,  soon  its dendritic crawlers found other trees and quickly they networked to claim a forest. The vines were memories,  the reborn but familiar memories of alien thoughts, alien sensations, alien amusement that he sensed as a child. He was just in middle school when it began. He still recalled resenting it!  He mentally dug in the soil to unroot them but out came more vines painting pictures of the invasion that other young people did not appear to sense and he wondered why did they not perceive it? Were they blind or where they just lying about their telepathic skills for some reason?  Was this knowledge not allowed for children? Would they admit it when he was older?

The vines blossomed and their hypnotic scent took over Janr’s thoughts. Wondering ceased and he was young again. He was walking down the street called Calle Doce De Octubre in Hato Rey, Puerto Rico with the Sun just coming up on his left.  Mitsy was tugging excitedly at the 5 foot chain on her body harness as she sought the next blade of grass with a message from another dog. As he looked down the street to his right he could see 12 year old  Lecticia Delacruz swinging up and back on the porch swing chair in the front of her home.  As he watched her long brown curly hair float in the breeze of her movement, he wished he could be there with her.  She had been suddenly friendly to him when Janr came to call on Junior, her brother, to go out and fly kites.  She had in fact hung around them and tried to distract Janr from his kite flying.  She had snuck up and tickled him,  run by and pulled the kite string making it dance and even tossed water at him from her refilled soda bottle. It had made no sense until today.  Today as he watched her long legs stretch forward and backward to propel her chair he noted her skirt rise in the breeze and had a funny unfamiliar hunger creep through his body. For some reason he just wanted to be on the chair with her and gently touch those long muscular legs. He was embarrassed by these odd thoughts he had never contemplated before and would not share them; however his privacy would soon be invaded!

As images of his hand gently caressing the sensuous curved muscles of her thighs imagined themselves into being so did another uninvited energy.  He had sensed this intrusion before, it was like someone uninvited looking over your shoulder. He was awakening to the annoying sixth sense of being watched in a secretive fashion. He was too young to put it into adult words but he too had been the secret observer himself at times. Janr then recalled such an incident. When watching birds flying overhead, he had wished he could see through dove’s eyes as they soared above the palm trees and then it had happened, he did!  He recalled walking Mitsy as he was doing now doing and feeling her wet nose touch the blades of grass. Then the world would burst into a kaleidoscope of  dogs of many shapes and forms until Mitsy found the one who had left the message.  This thought lead to another reminding him of the night before. He recalled being half asleep under the mosquito netting hanging from his bedposts.  His body’s  muscles were heavy with oncoming sleep but his mind still alert. It was then he sensed something flittering through his mind with the gentle touch of a butterfly, it was looking at his day’s memories. With fascination, he watched it watching him and he was able to sense its thoughts.  It wondered what were the picture images of his days experiences and what sort of anatomical feature could allow such perception?  It wondered what his hands were like to use and what they would have sensed if they had touched the other beings body? Then it sensed Janr watching it and it was gone!

Janr told his mom the next morning about his dream. She said, it was a family thing to have odd and creative dreams. She said to just ignore them and they would go away. As Janr ate his Corn Flakes and slices of fresh cut mango, he recalled his mom playing with the Ouija WeeGee Board and somehow he knew it would be a long time if ever before the odd sensations of being watched went away.

Janr had buried these memories with exquisitely complex mental tools, developed over years of effort as he had searched for how to mentally survive this intrusion on his privacy.  He had succeeded until this morning.

With the reemergence of his childhood memories, creative concepts to explain the new reality he lived in burst into being as did imaginative solutions to his potential new dilemma. He chose not to worry, after all it did no good, and brushed these thoughts aside. Then he  recalled just a few years back lying on his chiropractor’s adjustment table. There was a hot pack on his lower back ButterFly.Onlyas he waited the ten minutes for her return. It was then he sensed the old familiar touch of a mental butterfly wing but this time it was different! This time the being asked for permission to view his memories.  It was an older man who loved the lady who was Janr’s friend and chiropractor. He sensed Janr’s compassion for his daughter’s current plight and it was this knowledge he was seeking. Janr was sure there was no danger and so he acquiesced, after all this was not an invasion it was a pleading request. The being looked through Janr’s memories of that afternoon with Anne, the chiropractor, and then smiled and thanked Janr, though he had no physical face to smile with.

When Anne returned to complete the treatment, Janr chose to risk sharing his experience with Anne. They had known each other for 20 years and she would know he was not crazy. In addition they were both part of an alternative healing group and were open to new ideas that might lead to healing.  After he told her about his psychic experience, Anne told Janr that her father who was also her bookkeeper for many years, had died nearly a year ago to that date.  He had died at a time when Anne’s associates had bankrupted her practice, her husband had left her alone to support three children and her home had burned down.  He had been concerned for her future and now perhaps he would rest in peace knowing of her rising from the ashes of disaster like the mythological Phoenix.

TheTouch.Butterly.Starburst.highRes.Radio.Image.pngJanr had slowly learned from these kinds of experiences. He now realized that disembodied travelers could not control a body, as learning to use muscle that was not yours was very complex. They also could not see through eyes that were not theirs.  All they could do was look at your memories and wonder, if you let them. He decided to stop fighting off the growing forest of old memories. Seventy years later, he did not feel invaded, he now had mastery of his mind and could invite or deny; he wondered what it would be like to again soar with the Eagles?

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Did you enjoy this paranormal experience?  If so read The Touch, now on Amazon.com.

Janr

A Writing Experiment – no dialogue

NO DIALOGUE: The text below is the beginning of a sci-fi  D-trip journey as used in my many fiction stories.  I have wondered how it would seem if the hero’s in my stories were at first dumbfounded by the shift from Earth into the D-Dimension.  Here is a fun experiment aimed at taking  you there with them, but without their saying a single word of dialogue:

janrs-LogoWe arrive rather suddenly and were instantly both fully immersed in the D-dimension (immersed being way to mild a word in retrospect).  It seemed so intense and palpable that imagining the physical world we had just left, was most difficult. I tried to picture my lab which we had just left seconds ago, but found it nearly futile as the D-Dimension stimulated all my senses at once. The overload of images and sensation in my mind  made me recall years earlier sharing a writing room (a study) with my wife. I recalled  trying to read a complex story on my computer screen as my wife’s computer frequently and randomly burst into noisy distraction that popup commercial videos created. Back then  concentration on my reading was shattered by the intentional distraction of commercial intrusion.  The D-Dimension, though in no way intentionally disruptive,  was so captivating and full of random pulses of energetic change that trying to picture my physical world was interrupted by its strange but overpowering sensations and magnificence.  The “real” world had faded  out and the D-Dimension faded in with a whisper rapidlly became a roar as we arrive above the Earth in outer space wearing nothing but our skin and no protection from the vacuum I knew could kill us in seconds.

Just looking down on the Earth below was breathtaking; but, my first instinctive reaction upon arrival was to sense that I had fallen off a cliff and was tumbling downward at unaccountable speed!  Of course  that was just because the massive Planet Earth, filling 40 percent of my view below, was alive with motion and spin and I lay floating in space upon nothing but vacuum. I recalled the pilots saying, “we fly by the seats of our pants for security.”   Now I knew what that meant!

The huge blue globe beneath my feet turned slowly while clouds above covered its drifting continents like the magical veils used by Oriental dancers. Sunlight sparkled and pranced on and off the floating cloud banks setting them on fire or just burning their edges; but, this was just the most normal appearance of the D-Dimension.  The hypnotic beauty of this splendor was accentuated by my awareness of the nakedness, of my body lying in empty space, suspended on buffeting winds of gravitational force from the Earth, the Moon and the Sun. All that seemed to lift me above the Earth like a Hawk sailing effortlessly in the morning winds of the south Florida dawn. On the other hand the Hawk was in control and I had no idea how to respond to these waves of non-physical interaction. Fortunately they tossed me around as gently as a feather in a mild breeze and I discovered that I could balance myself against them by just thinking it so.  Yes I could feel space rise and fall as it turned and twisted in the gravitational well of the Earth. Why not?  I had no mass.  

Occasionally I would find myself not breathing because of unreasonable and unconscious fear.  It took a while to register that no  space suit was needed, despite my instinctive expectation of having all air sucked from my lungs by the black vacuum around me.  I had to remind myself that I was only there in the form of energy,  within a universe of energy and nothing could suck the air from my lungs as there was nothing physical in me or in space.  

From behind me however, the Sun at my back felt like a pelting rainstorm on a hot sunny day. It reminded me of storms we used to call sun showers.  I could feel the constant beat of every form of energy radiation the sun could emit pulsing and hammering as it collided with and past through my ghostly form and then on to interact with that radiation emitted by the Earth.  Each ray had a distinct taste, smell and texture that so overwhelmed the senses that for moments the Earth below vanished as my mind was drawn to  focus upon just what the Sun was saying to me. It spoke in a foreign language seemingly accentuated with ferocious intent and multisensory tongues. X-rays and Gamma rays  stung and burned like bee stings, until you acclimated to their roar. They came in loud bursts like waves beating the sand on a stormy day but much faster. Sometimes they soared up the scale of intensity and sounded like thunder claps or a jet breaking the sound barrier.  Paradoxically some of the radiation had texture and flavor, some quite intense.  Burst of them reminded me of the orange flavoring  used by my grandmother to make cod liver oil more palatable but served on a spoon that seemed to rust between dosages.  Then there was the eerie smell of mustard and hot dogs.  I have to say it made me salivate somewhere where I actually had a tongue and mouth.  But here I was not sure what it was other than my mind trying to synchronize my senses with energy that it had never experienced before.  I remembered suddenly watching my very young daughter trying to touch the rings of a clown suspended above her in the play pen.  She tried for two weeks off and on to get those chubby little arms and  pudgy fingers to grab the clown’s ring like feet. When she finally succeeded, it was the first time in her life she ever laughed!  Like her, my mind was trying to make sense out of what  I was in touch with but not yet understanding. 

When I turned and gazed at the Sun, I could see rings of multicolored energy exploding from its surface in waves of vastly varying frequency.  The dark pulses were gravitation, the distortion of space-time.  Pulses of  solar gravitational fluctuation as they arrived however felt like sitting in front of a base speaker at an old rock concert. My whole body reacted to this sound as if being hit by an unseen wind gust; however,   the deep bass note had its own unique sound and one so deep I could not relate it fully to hearing.  

All in all, and somewhat perplexing, the bath of energy made the empty space somewhat less disorienting. I thought this might be because after awhile this energy substance allowed me to feel suspended in something more secure than falling down an elevator shaft as first impressions on arrival above the Earth created.  Like a hot bath that at first stung, little by little the environment was feeling more lukewarm  and more like a friend than an enemy.  I wondered if this was what birth felt like to a neonatal human whose mind was way too developed?

 

Different Styles Of Thought Or Consciousness At Birth And Beyond.

What if you were amongst the few who are born truly telepathic,  what would your birth experience be like? Would you survive after birth at all and if so for how long?  If you did survive what would you see without your eyes and how might that affect who you are and what you do with your remaining life time?  In essence, upon achieving consciousness, you would be one with the entire universe finding yourself part of something infinitely large and yet knowing that you were physically small by contrast. It is something that you might ponder if you are predisposed to the lengthy thought process that is  the particular disease of creative writers.  It is something I lie in bed thinking about at 5:00 am when I would like to be asleep blissfully as you are.

On the other hand what if you were not born telepathic,  what would your experience be like? What would it be like in a world of singular aloneness?  In your small space your mind would struggle  like a sponge to telelepahty-laeld-for-reuse-by-google-searchabsorb every bit of sensory data possible so you could become one with the terrifying vastness  around you. In so doing you would hope to not be frightened by your painful smallness in the now suddenly unaccountably large and unpredictable universe.

Do either of these contrapuntal scenarios exist?  It is my contention that they both exist and all the time, at each human parturition.  I believe that at each child’s genesis they are infinitely large, and connected cosmically with every other living thing, call it telepathy if you choose. At the same time they are focused on their physical smallness and struggling to incorporate all sensory data possible so that they can make sense of and take control of that which is their new physical environment.  It is truly terrifying even without the slap on the ass from the supposedly wise gynecologists. It is terrifying because, since they became sentient, many months ago, their environment has been consistently warm, cozy and full of love and nurture both mental and physical; but, now it has suddenly transformed with the psychological impact of a car crash!

Have you not noticed, as a parent, that children are “sponges” for knowledge?  Everything they see and hear becomes part of them, as if they were a movie studio’s camera.  They all appear to have total recall (and may infact have this trait).  On the other hand, not long after they become able to communicate, in some meaningful manner, we discover that they, at times, play with “imaginary” friends. They do this in our culture, at least until we become concerned.  They do this until we tell them that there is no such thing as imaginary friends and that it is time to “grow up” and stop this nonsense.

The sponge like behavior also becomes less and less, for many, as the experience a child possibly absorbs becomes more and more contaminated with doses of bitters and pain.  After all, all of existence is a sign wave. There is nothing that does not run like hot and cold that we can perceive, probably because that is all there is to our universe. Our nerves only respond to opposites, change!  After you splash into a totalrecall_2012_logowarm bathtub,  in a few minutes,  the initial sensation of heat transforms itself, in your perception, to a  constant temperature,  hardly noticeable. You need change to be conscious.  For the neonatal, the fun and security of becoming one with the universe by learning all it has to offer becomes far less joyful with negative experience.  Experiences such as those punctuated with the pain of an angry, frustrated parent’s hand slap or that caused by less friendly bacteria trying to eat us from the inside out after spoiled food is consumed.  So we don’t really want to remember this pain and we may learn to dissociate from it, since we cannot turn senses on or off at will.

As for being one with the universe by “telepathy,” if we should call it that, it too has its pain. Consider the disturbing confusion of  connecting with a being that has no eyes.  This being is called a Spheron.  This spherical being  connects with the universe by sonar like transmissions, much like a bat, but in the radio wave frequency range.  It senses its position too by the shifts in gravitational and magnetic fields coming from its planetary home, much like a bird or bees do.  It has almost no physical structure because it is mostly energy. It is spherical as that is the natural form that energy takes as it radiates (at least in this quadrant or our universe where the physics we try to comprehend is mostly prevalent).  This being does not interact with many of its like others, there is no value.  No, in fact its created purpose is like that of honey bees, it gathers information (like pollen) from that thought process and experiences of planets and shares that with other planets much as a bee shares pollen. If you thought that planets are not sentient, just for the moment imagine they might be; it will help with the concepts we are discussing.   The Spheron shares that “experience” by warping space and traveling across the universe instantaneously (at least this is how we would describe it).  From its perspective, there is no time, no space and no distance.  These are the delusions of physical beings like us.

A telepathic connection with this alien mind would be literally Earth shattering.  It could be far worse than a trip on LSD!  Those with acute telepathy, to maintain their sanity, would quickly withdraw to the comfort of their small, warm, cozy physical space.  So perhaps the genesis of that which we call people, derives from the balancing act of  sanity trying to maintain its integrity by figuring out how much total recall or total communication makes sense for the environment into which it, the newly created being, has been flower-1360468_960_720-pixbayunceremoniously dumped.

Out of every black sky filled with frightening lightning and torrentuous storms comes the birth of new plant life,  the flowers of a sunshine filled morning.  Perhaps in a similar manner so do we.

Janr Ssor

 

 

 

 

I sat alone wondering how I got here?

I awakened slowly in the unfamiliar bed as vague aches and dull pains began to express themselves through my 70 year old body.  It was my nerves responding to the cascade of hormones that created consciousness. I was almost awake but my muscles felt heavy like the lead acid battery I had carried from my dad’s car long ago…long ago, I was a kid then.  I pulled the damp cold  sheet, I reflexly clutched in my stiff right hand, up to cover my head and shield my naked scalp from the moisture in the damp earthen scented air; but, the cloth was tucked too tightly under the foot of the hard metal frame forming the strange narrow bed, I lay upon.  I never newgate-prision-free-googletucked sheets under the foot of my soft bed as they bent my toes in an unnatural posture causing me pain.  With that thought and a tragically slow growing awareness, I recalled that I was not home and that the groggy sleep I was struggling to overcome was not natural.  If only I could open my eyes, or did I not want to?

Memories were beginning to drip resoundingly, like annoyingly loud rain drops on a metal roof. Richard and I had fastened those sheets of corrugated rusty metal to the  pine log cabin we  had built in the Everglades many years ago when we were in High School. When it rained on those mosquito filled night in the swampy South Florida it was like a timpani of dischord.  Now however, each chilly drop was washing off the dirt and dust that covered the eye of my mind and as they did so, a picture of last night emerged from beneath my efforts to forget.

At last, against my will, I remembered!  I was in a “room” at the old Florida Department of Corrections prison, up by Jacksonville, that was now commanded by the US Army.  It was winter and despite the high water level of the ground in Florida, these windowless concrete boxes had been built totally below ground to make them escape proof and very much like solitary confinement.

In my tight stomach, hunger pains and nausea were both awakening in disharmony.  I had not eaten in a long time other than the chemical laden brew the armed soldiers had forced me to drink sometime ago….  It might have been yesterday.

The deafening lack of sound began to play tricks with my mind and I heard them speaking to me again from beneath the depths of the drug induced fog.  What was it they wanted? Oh yes, they wanted to know how I knew what I did not know!   They laughed at my stupidity for it had been easy for them to find me. The on-line casino computer had identified me, over many months, as winning too much, too frequently.  They knew for sure that I could beat the odds at least online. Starvation had a way of making people like me careless.  Winning the Bitcoin credits  had allowed my wife and I to purchase canned rations and sterile water from the service center.  We had not died horribly as we had watched our neighbors do.

I closed my eyes tightly trying to not awaken. I did not want to face another day of this reality.  That was it!  That was why I was there!   Some religious lunatic in government believed that we could undo what had happened by prayers from those mentally gifted with prophetic skills.  What was his name?  I had heard it mentioned on the underground Internet broadcast.  My wife, Nancy,  had told me about his teachings years ago at the University of Florida, theology class.  It was that old dream of each of us creating our reality by choosing to think it so.  What had Nancy said?  Oh yes,  “Believing Is Seeing.”   That was professor Seamann’s credo.  Pain stabbed at my heart! Where was Nancy, they had separated us weeks ago when we were dragged in for interrogation. I could not bear that thought and tried to imagine myself seeing what was around me.

Finally a picture formed in my mind.  My eyes were open, I was sure, but it was totally dark so there was nothing to see.  In memories eye they had wanted to know how I constantly beat the odds.  They wanted to know how they could use me to help them do the same. They had records dating back many years to when they secretly drugged my sister and  put her in an insane asylum to ostensibly help my family.  Their goal, with her, was the same then as it was now with me.  I tried to recall how this had happened and somehow through the drug induced lethargy and image managed to form.

Kim Jong-un’s N. Korea had launched the  high altitude nuclear missiles, through their proxy radical terrorist organizations.  It was easy for the terrorists to purchase the missiles, from North Korea, in exchange for the petro-dollars that North Korea desperately needed.  It was simple form Kim Jong-un to imagine evading retaliation too, as who would America retaliate against when missiles came from several distant countries all at once?   Countries who supposedly supported us but were riddled with radical terrorists we were helping them oppose.

The EMP, electromagnetic pulse, had wiped out 3/4 of the  computer systems in America in just moments.   On the underground internet it was quickly  estimated that a  year later 80% of our population would be dead from starvation, disease and the ensuing chaos.  Ithell-540468_960_720 was then I had made the mistake of using the underground Internet to gamble at the virtual casinos.  It was amazing what starvation will do to your otherwise clear thought process.

Now the military hoped to reverse,  what could not be undone, by using PSI to win WW III. So far, it was a non-nuclear battle, except in sporadic sputtering attempts at eliminating terrorism; But, hell was hell no matter how you define its fires.

The dull sound of a distant heavy metallic security bar’s clang echoed through the concrete slabs of my tomb.  They were coming again………..

Janr Ssor.

 

Janr Ssor’s – Growing Up With Telepathy

The first thing I can recall was lying in my bed and thinking about the interesting things I could see around me, now that I could turn my head. My happy visitors all shared funny pictures with me and each other and made warm and varied telepathysounds. I liked them, their sounds and their pictures but they made no sense to me, yet.   I wanted to understand it so I closed my eyes and experimented with pictures of my new world.   After a time when I opened my eyes, I noted that my eyes were growing dim and realized it was happening again. My new world started to fade and vanish as it seemed to do in regular cycles.

When my world had vanished,   I started re-creating it by creating a bright dot to fill the darkness and then two dots and then lots more. It was fun and it reminded me that when I looked way back over where the cool air came from, I could see a bunch of bright dots that I did not even have to imagine.  In the dark I liked to make lots of dots and stick them together and watch them grow.  Then I noticed that they looked like one of the happy visitors! It dawned on me that I could assemble my little dots into almost anything.  Maybe everything was made of dots.  I tried to copy the now invisible room that was  around from time to time. In my head I re-created it all built out of little dots and suddenly it occurred to me;  my happy visitors were sharing pictures of rooms I had never seen, all made of little dots all bunched together like mine!  I got excited and spent most of the night building little pictures of what they had shared.  I built it out of my new erector set of bright lines, rectangles, circles, squares and some that just melted into shapes I could not even now name, all made of dots. Soon something was hurting in the dark and to my cry in the dark, the warm sweet drink thing came and put out the fire. I felt happy and then soon after the room was back.
When the room came back again in this next cycle, all the things in it now were 3d like my erector set.  It was a fun game, discovering this new place. When the happy visitors came back and made sounds to each other, I could see the pictures they were painting, many were rooms like mine. It was an exciting new day!  Maybe the sounds even had something to do with the pictures because I noticed the same sounds being made when they shared the same pictures!  Later I learned the sounds they made were called speech and I learned to make those sounds too.
My next dramatic memory was of when my mom sister and I sat on cushions on the floor in the finished basement play room of our brick home in Brooklyn NY. On the plastic table was teal blue box trimmed with brass edging and held together by a small “C” shaped brass fastener.  My mom turned the fastener free of its pin and the box unfolded into a flat surface etched with a faint gray outline of the USA.  From a little drawstring bag she emptied odd shaped puzzle pieces onto the surface.  She then told my sister to assemble the map.  I was just barely two years old as I watched my 4 ½ year old sister usa-puzzle-480x257assemble a map of the usa’s 50 states upside down, and earn my mom’s applause.  A photographic memory was not uncommon in my family (though my mom did not have one, she was gifted with intermittent telepathy which she was oddly not aware of).  On that date, I who was far more telepathic than my mom,  but just beginning to walk really well,  could not begin to do this puzzle trick, to my personal consternation!
I could see the puzzle being put together on the ornate desktop, which was itself unfolded from the puzzle box being opened like a blossoming flower. Because of telepathy,  I could see the map being assembled in my sister’s mind,  but I could not duplicate it!  My mom, seeing me (seeking her applause) struggling with  a much smaller puzzle with lots of frustration on my little face, said “Let’s find you something simpler to do that will be fun!”  I could sense her emotional disappointment and see the images of my inferiority in her head.  Unfortunately my mind was that of a 2 year old and I could  not understand that not being able to solve the puzzle  was age related (I did not know or understand about age and maturation).  I also did not understand that she was disappointed at my frustration and not in me. I should not have been telepathic at that age, it usually started with sexual maturation.  Things do go wrong at times.
This experience was the first dent in my ego that I could recall, with lots of effort years later. It was a child’s misunderstanding and the first of many “collisions” with my mom that would alienate me from her forever.  With or without telepathy and empathy, a child’s brain cannot understand what an adults can. Telepathy made it more painfully confusing too!  All it told me was that she was proud of my sister and not me. I could even see her mental plot to give me some of my favorite dessert to take my mind off the competition!  When she gave it to me,  I spit it out!
My sister too was telepathic but uncontrollably so.  When she had occasional “imaginary” playmates that were not there, it was cute to my parents.  As she got older it became something my parents worried about and eventually my sister’s early demise. For me telepathy was  kind of like my mom’s experience. It only really happened when I was clearing my mind in concentration or asleep.  Otherwise the noise from my 5 senses drowned out any conscious input from the sixth senses ephemeral emanations to my childlike mind. It did nevertheless however have significant effects on my maturation.
When I was 3 or nearly 4, my parents had a “party” for adults who came over and got to sit in the living room, from which we were normally banned.  This was the mahogany, leather and soft cushions reserved for special occasions only.  Some of the adults brought other children and we were told to go out back to play.  This was the first time I realized that children old.people.partywere in some ways, at least to me,  insane. They were out of control externally and internally!  They hit each other, pulled toys out of each other’s hands and their minds were a flow of emotions with images of self gratification.  I could not stand them! I could not stand their thoughts!  I came back into the parlour and I begged my mom to let me hang out with the adults, to which she finally conceded.  This was much better.  I got to talk with and mostly listen to  some of the “old” people about the government, the past war’s they remembered and even the president.  They did look oddly at me now and then and I could sense their thoughts drift to the question of how a little toddler could converse, even as poorly as I did,  on these topics. The answer was beyond me and them at the time, but now, that I am older, I know.
What I thought was my thoughts, was their thoughts (drifting in like smoke signals to my open mind) on any topic they focused on. As a result my occasional comment always affirmed their beliefs and my questions and interest in their opinions and stories of life kept them talking on and on.  At least their minds were rational, for the most part, unlike the savage children they had brought to my home.  Not only was the conversation interesting, but they would reach into big bowls of hard shelled nuts and crack them for me with hinged silver nut crackers.  A worthy reward for my efforts at listening to them attentively.

Then when it was not so busy around me, I had my ghostly friends.  You might have called them imaginary playmates, though I did not play with them or know even if they had names.  I recall swinging on the swings my dad had hung from the big beam crossing the roof of the garage.  It was always fun to swing inside and it was even possible when it rained outside, which gave it a special feeling.  I loved the way the world rushed by me forward and backward. I found it fascinating to note how some loud long sounds from the street stretched out as my swing moved in its magical path. I had heard that too as those vehicles with sirens rushed by on occasion.  Today as I paid attention to just such a sound, AcidTripI noted that someone was also listening to the changing sound but using my ears!  They were also looking through my eyes at the changing panorama. Then it occurred to me, I could also look at them but not through their eyes or their ears as they had none. I could only look at their thoughts as they got excited about sharing in my experience.  I tried to see what they were seeing where they seemed to be but I could not do so as their world was bizarrely unstable when I tried to see it.  Years later I would understand that their world was so different from ours that there was nothing in common that I could comprehend from whatever sort of sensory organs they had.

Instead of seeing their world,  my mind took their sensory energy impulses and tried to interpret it as my world.  That turned out to be confusing to say the least! Image upon image painted itself in a tangled maze that I could only describe as confusion.  At my age it was frightening.  I quickly stopped trying this approach to knowing them.  Then I tried ignoring them, but it was not possible, it seemed.  I could tell that they were there even when they tried to not be noticeable. There was this feeling of someone or something looking over my shoulders.

One day,  when I was older,  I had a curious insight into what was happening when my ghostly visitors came unbidden. My family and I had just returned from a two day weekend vacation in Hode’s Acres, upstate NY.  My sister and I had walked through the woods listening to strange animal and insect sounds.  We had crossed through rushing streams on slippery rocks covered with green carpets of algae. We had smelled the strong scents of blossoming flowers and the less pleasant smell of hidden death and decay.  It was like a trip to another planet considering that we lived on Troy Avenue in the bustling brick and tar town of  Brooklyn NY.

My enlightening insight was that the visitors in my head where also on “vacation.”  They however left their physical bodies and traveled the universe to see other worlds.  They could travel as far as they chose in zero time because without physical form they were not confined to time or space in the usual sense.  However, in order to experience the distant world, they had to mentally join with a being whose sensory organs they could learn to use and comprehend. This was, for them,  far better than anything Disney World could create!  I did not however like them looking through my eyes as I felt naked and exposed.  I thought I could understand their reaction and it felt as if they sometimes laughed at me,  were revolted my my normal life or in some perverse way stimulated by me.  I felt like a freak in a freak show.  I began to plan how to end this unwanted connection.

…………………………….. more to come (and possibly the beginnings of a story that needs be told)