Sharaya

Chapter one:  Shadows and dust.


I had not seen Sharaya for months, possibly more. I missed her.  But she wasn't the type of girl I could invite over, ever.

It was complicated.


She was my brother’s super geek calculus partner from college and his semi-professional ‘not-girlfriend’. 

She was also a time traveler, he didn’t know that part about her and probably never would.


I am also talking about two completely different girls, sort of.

It was late August in Southern California so it was hot and dry.  Which in the year 1984 was pretty typical for most days where we lived in Temecula.

So naive

 In the twisted and naïve world I live in I believe I can solve problems.


I am usually wrong.


I think in some way my words, thoughts, opinions or pointing out factoids will sway you to see the light.


I am more often than not still wrong.


I absolutely support this country, even when I don't agree with a lot of things going on. And trust me, there are a lot of things going on that are really stupid.


I categorically support the men and women in our military, yet I hope that they never see combat and I think the men who make wars never pay the true price of their decisions.

The Holy Man

“I remember now”

Three simple words I uttered while I stared out on the wide open plain that was the home of my recent rebirth.

In the past I kept dreaming of a world I thought I would never see.

A place I didn’t deserve but for my actions alone.

Yet here I was.

And alive, to what definition, well that was subject to debate.

Far behind me was the ocean and the coast.  The rocky cliffs were lifetimes ago along with the lingering cold that came with my awakening.

I had come to this world after leaving the chaos behind me.

I had changed.

1982

A hot dry wind blew through the open window of my 1978 blue Ford Capri. This was not to be unexpected during the summer months in Temecula California. The high desert was in fact hot and dry; and desolate.

No one in their right mind would choose to live here I often thought.

The year was 1982 and I was on my way to summer school.  Not entirely by choice, but truth be told I didn’t have anything better to do.  That and my mom somewhat told me I had to go to stay out of trouble.

The Journey to Belief

Flight 2413 left Seattle as scheduled; which was unusual for this specific airline based on my experience with them.  The skies my be friendly, but these people are rarely on time.

I awoke to a January storm that had subsided long enough for the sun to break through the morning clouds in the pacific north west.

The howling of the pre-dusk winds had subsided and it had warmed to a tepid 54 degrees.

The streets were wet and the movement of people had begun; to where I had no clue.

Today I would be traveling back to the final week of my Texas adventure.

Detachment

It’s morning in January. Perhaps around 8:30 am.  I woke much earlier as I recall.

I’m sitting in a small diner that exists in an inconsequential town in West Texas.  

There is a purpose to this day.

The restaurant is on a street that would be easily forgotten if you blinked while driving to one of the many auto parts stores that seem to spontaneously appear on every other street corner in so many small cities in Texas.

The patrons of the diner are coming and going; quite likely related to church as it is Sunday in the bible belt.

From what I can hear, most of them are talking about about the day, the week and repeating the sound bites from some mindless news channel or what is trending on their social media feed.

The beginning - part one

There was darkness and in the darkness I decided to find some light.

It was either that or once and for all plunge into that darkness and be done with it all. I even had my point of exit planned. I thought if all else fails I will drive off a cliff at the Columbia gorge river.  I had been there once before. It was a long fall that would have the desired effect.

No one would miss me is a thought that played over and over.

For unknown reasons I ruled that option out.  I don’t remember why anymore. I guess that’s a good thing.

Where to he asks himself?

So I started to look into what I was and what I had become. I wanted to start somewhere. I had to start somewhere is a better way of saying it.

Leaving The Fog

A while back someone asked me what was in it for them.  

I said ‘nothing’. And left it at that.   There was no answer to the question.  For that matter, there was no question to answer.

And why would you ask me. I don’t know these things.  

There is nothing in it for anyone if you have to ask is all I thought in that moment.

Its the experience of being that is your only reward.  

But what does it take to get to that point?

Lost in time

There is a certain irony to the autobiographical nature of self-discovery.

Finding yourself lost perhaps is a better way to say it.

I was first. I was last. I was always.  Until I wasn’t.

Then where was I?

I still don’t know.

I remember the broken days so vividly. I don’t like that but it’s part of the process I guess.

I remember times and people. And places. Some distant and some very far away.

The Medusa complex

I don’t have any cool degree or PhD behind my name and I’m barely educated.  So the following is rambling about a concept that I’ve been thinking about.

This is a lot more than should be said on the subject. Your eyes may start to bleed with my rambling.

The Medusa complex is how you see yourself, how others see you and seeing yourself in the mirror and taking an honest look at why you do what you do.

Part one

If you think some piece of your purpose in life is to please others you are living a lie that will come crashing down from time to time.  Pleasing others isn’t a purpose, it’s an addiction.

Control

If I were going to try to take power from the masses I would use three basic principles:

 

  1. Perpetuate fear over a thing that only I have the solution for.  Create a new truth from simple pieces of data that you believe are fact.

  2. Convince you that without my help, you will suffer and create offsetting distractions so you never actually determine my lies.

  3. Sell a narrative to divide all those that if they ever unified could remove me from power.  Bait and switch the players and scenarios to ensure the division never ends.