It’s been almost one year, and still I haven’t finished “The Lineage Project”. Heck, I’ve barely begun! To scratch the surface is like scratching my mind – not my head, mind you (ignoring the puny pun in there) – but my mind. Pulling things up by the roots and seeing what connects them. Figuring out not only ‘who’s who’ but what ‘they’ do, if anything – for me, against ‘me’ or whatever. Like most ‘human beings’ therein lays part of the problem: they are dynamic ‘beings’ or whatever.
Baby beget Toddler beget (little) Michael who started disassociating. By the time he was 3 he was rather good; started ‘splitting’ before he was even 5.
This little being (our ‘original’ host) went on to create some others: the Soldier (I can never decided whether to capitalize the “the” in that one) and perhaps #9, who converted then into Jeremy (I think that’s because that word rhymes with Germany) – who was an entity created solely for dealing with the Germans and their German environment at the time.
Lets back up a little here; we’re getting ahead of our story and lineage ‘line’.
Before the age of nine – but definitely by the time he was ten – little Michael (our inner host child) created ‘another one’ of him using a method we’ve come to call “quining” – sorta duplicating himself and leaving ‘some parts’ behind. Meanwhile little Michael took shelter ‘behind’ this ‘wonderful being’, “Little Mikie”, the boy he wished he could become! And it’s been like that for many years: our inner one, hiding and adjusting his facade to suit the circumstances as he needed them to. (Clever child of mine! <- We and I and some of our Group are into praising him; it was indeed something he had to do.)
As a result of this ‘being’ being built – this inner child creating this ‘false front’ – or MASK that he had to wear – wearing one at home and one at school and one on base in front of the folks who were observing him; one for the Germans and the society and/or culture he was in . . . each time building a new ‘mask’ and building a new ‘him’.
Not that things always ‘got stuck’ in his mind. Some disappeared rather rapidly, others hung on. That was dependent on how long we’d be in some place – at some duty station, some new civilization and/or level of said civilization, traveling through time through poverty and poor to plenty and well-being and back again, bouncing like a yo-yo through cultures and lifestyles with nobody to depend on – just the basics: food, clothing, shelter, medical attention when necessary – that was my parent’s definition of love. Getting ‘too close’ was not allowed. “Children aren’t meant to been seen NOR heard,” I often heard my mom’s mouth saying. Our dad just ignored us, tied up in his own selfish little world.
And then there was the military thing going on.
So Samuel beget Michael beget another being. (that’s just a random phrase in my head; I’m really not sure ‘who’ Samuel is, though he is one of two Jewish beings inside of us. The ‘other’ one is a girl; Sarah, and then there’s their mother Aoele’ – and ‘we’ all know where ‘she’ came from! She was made from my MOM-witch (not unlike an evil sandwich, all evil and hissing and such) – where we ‘got rid of’ the bad side by burying it in some rocks and declaring that one insane (tho’ she still hisses in our ear from time to time) . . . but that was only one year ago . . .
way off track on our lineage. . .
So here come little Michael – arrives in Germany, and he’s already got these three ‘beings’ within him: the Soldier, “Little Mikie” (wanting to please anybody – and by please I mean he would do it in a sexual way if someone wanted him to, and he often mistook it as love) . . . and ‘another one’ – a being that was half-formed during our time in North Carolina (that would be #9) – who, half-transformed, frozen and then ‘put up’ for some time, came out, looked around – found himself in this foreign land, perhaps gave ‘himself’ the name ‘Jeremy’ . . . meanwhile ‘little Michael’ (the original child) is rapidly fading to the back of my mind; meanwhile “Little Mikie” is stepping forward and ‘strutting his stuff’ (meaning he ‘invented’ the Scientist dudes and (perhaps) “the Recorder Mind” (another stuffy old being inside of my head) . . . who records everything we’ve been doing, writing, reading, written . . . going on in my head and behind.
Stubborn guy, that one. Won’t let anyone access ALL of them files except for some ‘secret’ minds . . . those were developed around the age of 21 I’m thinking; but “21” was also a personality of mine/mind . . . which probably didn’t actually ’emerge’ until I was 24 or so . . . which explains “24” (another person in my mind, or perhaps the system attempting to do some autocorrection) – those were very difficult times, mind you, and a lot of changes were happening, both internally and in ‘our world’. (For one thing I got out of the Marine Corps when I was 24 – surprised I wasn’t dead! – and went on to become – or HAD been adopted into a family ‘of mine’ – some folks with kids who took me in and taught me I could be loved. That was a really big thing . . .
Kinda lost them over time due to that wife of mine; long story short: I’m still hurtin’ from that and sometimes wonder: what if I had never left them? Their story would be different and so would be mine . . .
Like Robert Frost once said: the road less taken . . .
one that I’ve been on . . . for a long, long time.
(weary and resting my head; suddenly tired and sorta depressed within: but the wife just came home – tell me things don’t work out! – so I’m soon gonna be much better.)
and PS . . .
we never did finish that lineage . . .