It was while we were in Puerto Rico this last summer that we became aware that there was ‘someone’ playing mind tricks on us – and it wasn’t just from ‘outside’. It was an insider one as well. And we think we know who: Mikie, our little one.
He’s a tough little character, a real rascal sometimes (and we here are saying that fondly) for he is a ‘shell’ (we have found) or a caricature of the real child we left behind: the true one, little Michael inside. He bravely holds this one up to defend himself – both from us and “all mankind” (his words, not mine). And that little one is tender, too – but a rough child; a very real and human child in my mind.
But . . . it was he who made up some images in our mind. Whether they were due to some military training – some “MKULTRA” kind of thing – or re-creations or simulations within his young mind – I don’t know. Maybe it was his way of ‘dreaming’ – sending us things.
You see, the thing here is this: we’ve been dreaming in technicolor nightmares for such a long time – 48 years by the long count (meaning our biological life) – and it wasn’t until a few years ago that that started to change – that we started to have some good dreams sometimes where we would laugh – even waking up laughing. (That’s not so at this time; currently we have few dreams: our CFS, fibro, and bad sleep hygiene conspire to keep us awake. That and the drugs.)
But anyway – imagine this:
Here’s this war child. He’s been dreaming those dreams – military things – so long. And along comes ‘another’, our precocious “13” (as well as his younger one, who went exploring Germany) – and another one, our precious Marine . . .
and of course, driving subconsciously in the back of this (for back then ‘we’ were unaware of ‘ourselves’ – and some of us didn’t even exist) – is our little friend, “little Mikie” – imagining on . . . driving himself through this nightmare and that one – always searching for home.
And that’s the other thing. A lot of these dreams: they involve loss not just of things, but of people. Constantly and all the time – the same ‘theme’ runs through them all: loneliness, ‘searching on’ – looking for this thing called “home” (or “home base” in his young mind – is that part of our ‘training?) – making friends (and ‘family’ – for us friends WERE family; more precious than family sometimes) – and then losing them – due to either time, absence, or war.
And we have wrote some things on that – over and over again I can see it mirrored – again and again in my ‘creative writing’ – an expression of our mind – that there is this ‘thing’ . . .
But sometimes I still find myself wondering. What about those ‘images’ within my mind – the ‘terrain’ one, where we’re in a large dark concrete room and there’s a 3D terrain map in the middle – some ‘officiers’ or gentlemen around – they are wearing dark suits – military men – and they are asking me some questions – I am studying this map with an interested eye; somewhat excited; this is a mission I’m about to go on … something to do with survival? Where did that come from?
Or another one – what about that ‘survival mission’ and eating a lizard while sitting back against a tree?
Or what about that other one – triggered by watching some DC-somethings going across the sky (they were military ones) – and then ‘seeing’ this vision in my mind of HIM, our little boy – in a narrow long valley (not too long, we can see the pass at the end) – wading through ‘weeds’ that are nearly as tall as he is . . . he is slogging along (the ground is wet and mushy) – and these DC-10’s (?) fly over – going away from him (leading him towards the end of the valley) . . . and slugging along, his heart dropping as his head droops; the skies are overcast; those planes are not for him . . . he has to keep on going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny or something . . .
Always it’s been like that – and that was a ‘waking dream’, by the way, we weren’t asleep when we had ‘seen’ that – a ‘memory’ recalled? Or just a ‘dream’? I don’t know and I probably never will . . .
Sometimes I think I was part of some other program; sometimes I tell myself: I’m not. But then I remember those sessions of hypnotism . . . my dad doing it. The disappearance at the German hospital when I was born. The strange stuff that went on over in PR. The word “Project Almond” kept popping into my mind (what is that? I wonder) . . . some strange stuff to do with the military in the past few years (I was ‘part’ of them – associated with them – for over 26 years . . . who is to say I wasn’t some kind of ‘asset’ to them in my younger years; even as a child – in the Cold War, during Germany, when I was 13 . . .)
I don’t know. But I know I got’s a “tricksy” mind – and there’s some explanation for some of it. But not all of it in my mind.
Just wish I knew where . . . and when.