Story of a Failed Mind Control Subject

Just another site

Archive for the ‘Chapter 18’ Category

Chapter 18

leave a comment »

Chapter 18
The Others

So now I shall speak a moment about the Others.

I can imagine the questions now. The same ones I’ve wrestled with for years.

Who are they? I don’t know.

Why are they here? I don’t know.

Why are they watching, what are they looking for? I don’t know. Like you, I can only surmise, speculate, imagine. What occurs to me most often is that they are curious. That they cannot understand suffering.

Yet there are so many possibilities, and I cannot confirm or deny any of them, because I simply, truly don’t know.

Are they government? Maybe. They don’t seem to be. There’s nothing official about them, and they have an almost inhuman sort of ability to be so normal that you can’t notice them. I’ve always noticed that government people seem to be a bit high strung, or they seem to strive for an aura of authority. These men don’t do that.

Are they aliens? They don’t look like it. But I do think that their behavior is so human that it’s inhuman. That’s just my opinion, though. That comes from my own personal experience. In my own experience, I act so very “normal” to people these days because I’ve deliberately studied humanity and learned to sometimes act in ways that don’t make sense to me, but do seem to make sense to other people. They have this same sort of… air? about them. The studied repeating of behaviors, versus a sense of them arising naturally. But then again, I’m pretty sure I’m not an alien, so this is clearly no definitive indication of alienhood.

There are times when I think that they feed off of the negative emotions. Like ‘energy vampires’ of a very real nature. I only see them in times and places of extreme suffering. Yet in some ways, I find this concept difficult (yet not) to integrate into my world view.

I have suppositions. Impressions. Senses about them. These are intuitions, guesses, and not definitive. The baseline fact is that I know next to nothing of them. Take the following as opinions and guesses– they are.

It seems to me that they are a strange mix of predatory, yet also respectful. They feel very sinister to me. And in meditation, the answer I’ve received about the question of why I see them (recognize them as being off, might be a better way of saying it), is that they let me see them. They are strongly drawn to me and to my suffering. But on a deep level, while they sense me like a beacon and come to me, they are forbidden from interacting with me any further. Forbidden by whom? As far fetched as it sounds to me, the answer is always and irrevocably, “you.” So it is I who forbid them, though I don’t know it on a conscious level.

This frustrates them, like being kept away from a feast. Yet, because I am human (not because I am ME), they must obey. I think it’s important to point out that it is my humanity that makes them obey, not my person. Within us all lie this same ability, but we must be Aware, and it is this Awareness that they seek to prevent.

But they don’t need to waste energy on me for several reasons. First and most obvious is, who’d believe me? I think I communicate with dead people. I think that woodland spirits are real. I see sinister people. Altogether, I’m not a very reliable source. Not very believable. So even if I should tell, it matters little to the bigger picture, because since I’ve been in and out of mental institutions, and have been suicidal, and believe in strange things… even telling the world is pointless. It just labels me as a crazy. Altogether, I’m not a reliable witness, and I recognize it. Why do you think you haven’t heard from me before?

Who would listen? I’ve spent my whole life being dismissed.

I often wonder how many people are dismissed simply because they don’t fit the bill for “reliable witness.” And by this, I mean, they don’t fit what we’ve been taught is the definition of a ‘sane person.’ How many people with special abilities like communicating with animals or seeing the Others, are put into mental institutions and drugged only for the terrible crime of not “fitting the bill” of what the authorities have decided is “sane”?

Even now, we treat autistics (sorry, ass burgers) as if they are crazy. Nutters. Unfit. They’re to be FIXED, made NORMAL. Conform, conform, conform. If you don’t, you’ll be labeled something horrid and disgusting like an ass burger. What the f*** is wrong with people?? I understand, don’t believe me, I don’t mind. But really, these children who have this issue often get along fine together. It’s the rest of ‘humanity’ with its overt desire to kill the originality and freedom and beliefs of others that they struggle to understand and relate to.

And for this reason… that they find the world as it is difficult to understand, relate to, or live in…. that we call them something like ass burgers. We call our children shit. We call those who don’t GET the abusiveness of the world, the violence with which we treat each other (often subtle, yet just as violent)… we call them shit.

Look at an “aspie” sometime. You’ll notice some things about them. They aren’t usually the ones going around mocking, judging, and deriding people. An “ass burger” wouldn’t come up to me and spit on me for saying that I had a vision and that I see woodland spirits in my imagination.

But a “normal” person would. They’ll speak cruelly to each other. They’ll mock and deride and sit around complaining and condemning.

But yeah, the one who finds this world to be confusing and overwhelming and painful is the “ass burger.” Pardon me if I see a towering ignorance and a hateful irony in that. What does the Bible say, that in the end, evil shall be called good, and good evil? Close, Bible, close… evil shall be called normal, and good shall be called ass burgers.

Somewhat facetious. Those with extreme cases of it can and do react very violently. I don’t diminish at all the hardships of families dealing with these children, and I recognize that there are extremes of autism that people have to deal with that make life an abject misery. But many of the “milder” cases of “ass burgers” are simply people who don’t understand our society. And why the hell should anyone understand our society?

And why the hell wouldn’t there be those who are drawn to it for evil reasons? Why wouldn’t those who thrive on suffering be here? The ordinary life of the ordinary person is often fraught with loneliness, isolation, fear, and various forms of misery. Yet a great part of this is because the beauty of the world is ignored. If you’re miserable and you’re not spending your days looking at the beauty of the world, I think you ought to ask yourself why you prefer to dwell on the misery and not the joy.

But we’re getting to that. For now, we’ve got some more misery to get through.

That’s all I know (or sense) about the Others. They assist us in hurting each other, because they are drawn to our misery like moths to a flame. That’s what I sense. Why, I don’t know. Maybe they study it, maybe they feed on it. If that’s so, maybe it’s time they went hungry.

And maybe we should reconsider the way we treat “strange” people. Because you know what, maybe “strange” people are the normal ones. Maybe we strange people really are average. And if you’re strange, if you’re weird, maybe you’re not so strange or weird after all. Just consider the possibility. Not that you want to be like me, you don’t. But that’s the beauty of strange. You can be strange your way, and I’ll be strange my way.

Oh, wait, I need to check the front door for the men in white coats… after all, there has to be SOME sort of crime in being different. I haven’t spent so much of my life trying to look normal because being who I really am is acceptable. Are you who you really are? Can you say that you have visions and that you think your cat really understands you and maybe even replies to you, without looking around in fear of the men in white coats?

Yet the fear of being seen insane is one of our society’s deepest fears. And from it arises such cruelty and spite towards our fellow humans. We demonize anyone like me. I am labeled and dismissed and derided. If I am telling a story that people can’t explain, it has to be a lie. These are the only two possibilities that people can accept. It’s part of our cultural paradigm– anything not sanctioned by “authorities on the subject” is discarded. Even the evidence of our own eyes or lives.

I’ve seen the Others. And still, thanks to this cultural paradigm, I try desperately to find ways to disbelieve it. I’d rather agree that I have schizophrenia than believe my own eyes. I search, instead of answers, for denials. Because to do otherwise is tantamount in our society to being EVIL. And the fear of the unknown factors in for me, too. Better than I am hallucinating than that there are unknown Others in our society, living beside us but unrecognized as being Other. It gives a sense of helplessness that I don’t want. Of being out of control– a feeling I think I hate more than anything else.

Most people hate that feeling. I think many things that we choose not to believe, despite the fact that we have evidence, is because it leaves us feeling uncertain and unsure. We lose faith in ‘authority,’ and then we feel like there’s nothing left.

But there is us, still. Maybe it’s time that we became the authorities on our own lives. Maybe the evidence of our own senses (even the extra ones) ought to become more believable to us.

Written by sandit4glp

July 30, 2010 at 1:28 pm

Posted in Chapter 18