THE ACTUAL JOURNAL ENTRY OF: I Raised Sea Turtles and Octopi May 9th 2026
I
RAISED SEA TURTLES AND OCTOPI
Last night I had a dream about how I
was up on a cliff above the sea raising tiny sea turtles and octopi. Then one day these middle-aged quintuplets
showed up in togas who looked like the main character from wreck-it-ralph the
movie. They had walked up from the shoreline
below and told me that they were here to take over and move all these tiny
critters to the sea. Meaning that it was
time for me to go on to whatever was next.
I was walking down off the cliff wearing a white toga myself and confused
about where I would go and not excited about leaving my children but knowing
that my saga had ended and accepting it.
Then my dream flashed to the ‘house of hate’ and I was hearing someone
banging at the door of that house while I was sitting in the living room on the
three-cushion couch. Then suddenly I was
at the top of the stairs in the house-of-hate, and a white man had broken
through the door and was racing up the stairs to get me. That image yanked me out of my deep sleep and
then I was bolted up in my recliner in the real world, and I was facing toward
the front door in my house on the farm.
Thus begins my new adventure into my subconscious and most likely the
traumas of the day.
It was the best of times, it was the
worst of times thus, began my summer of dissociation. (This sentence should have been my title LOL)
I believe that the sea creatures represented my traumas that lay deeper in the
chasm of my mind. My most recent work has
allowed the next series to rise out of the amnesic box and that they are
working their way through the layers of my subconscious and about to work their
way to the shoreline of my consciousness.
Perhaps this dream is telling me that I was able to hatch the next
generation of traumas in a safe place and now a representation of kindness has
appeared to shuttle my memories to their next evolution. Maybe that cliff was in the amnesic realm and
as I approach the sea it will be me leading them to the surface of another
plane of existence. Both these creatures
are born independent and capable of feeding themselves and neither are raised
by their parents. Perhaps these traits
add to some distinction of a soulful spirit animal. Could it be that since both are born in
clusters they respect how my flashback material arrives at the conscious
level??? I have so much to explore in
this journal entry but you and I both know that sooner or later that mental
mind field of traumas will introduce themselves like bouncing Bettys upon the
war field of my mind.
I will document any additional
dreams that occur in this theme but today I suspect I should explore the intrusive
segway content that opened my eyes with a panic. My insightful dream of mystified but directional
content opened a door of a trauma-based nightmare with perhaps an abreactional
content of a soon to be repressed no more lineage of horror. Even now, as I contemplate this endeavor, I
am once again brought to exhaustion both physically and mentally. I am not sure that I can continue, I did
sleep over 12 hours just last night, but I am aware that this exhaustion is my
mind’s way of blocking the past from coming through to exposure. My focus remains on attempting to open my mind,
but the symptomologies of my dissociative disorder are actively working to
thwart my attempts and now I am hungry too.
Whereas I just ate a few hours ago.
I still prefer this structure of life over any other, it allows me to
get so much done without causing me additional stress.
This man who broke in I had seen
before in the alley behind the house. He
was always talking to himself and would stop abruptly arguing with the
air. He was always loud and I could hear
him from houses away. He would leave a
house up toward the end of twin falls by Esters Road. That’s why he was so often in the alley
way. I believe that he had moved in with
his parents or some other family member.
He was not art of our community, he just showed up one day and never
seemed sane. He would just bolt out of the
house and then began yelling and screaming but not at the kids. He never seemed to notice us, and we had no
interaction with him. We avoided him if
we heard him coming but sometime, he would walk out between the houses totally
quite with his fists clutched and looking around like he was tracking an
enemy. Then before we could make our escape,
he would be gone, walking on the sidewalk on Twin Falls and headed back
home. He always dressed like he had a
job once. His pants looked like slacks,
and his shirt was buttoned all the way up.
No matter the heat he would have this light-colored wind breaker on that
was never zipped closed. I think that he
stayed at the house that had a trampoline when I was young. His appearance was never consistent he would
be around a lot and then totally disappear for a month or more.
One time he had made it into our
backyard screaming, “Leave that kid alone” as he punched a tree
repeatedly. I had been watering the
dogs, and he was in the backyard and punching that tree so fast that I just
stood there dumbfounded. Then as quickly
as he had arrived, he was gone again back over the same fence and racing back
up the alley. That day that he came to
the door he too was screaming, “Leave that kid alone” and I think he was
punching the door not knocking. Then I
ran past the door up the stairs. Our
door was never locked and the handle was cheap.
I guess that his punching opened the door and then he was inside the
house. Once I reached the top of the stairs,
I became frozen and all my mind could do was watch this man run up the stairs
and grab me. He was frantic and sweating
heavily but he didn’t harm me. He gently
had his hands on my arms and was telling me about how he knew what was
happening at our house and that he would put a stop to it. Then Robert appeared at the base of the stairs
in his under shirt and underwear. That
man turned and leapt down upon him. He
leapt with such vigor that his head or the back of his shoulders scrapped the ceiling. This knocked his projectory off and his body
was now pendulating, and he encountered Robert in an odd position. Then they impacted and rolled into the den,
and I could hear them but not see them.
Then Sgt. Jim Alford rushed in, and he too went into the den.
I was motionless at the top of the
stairs and then I heard a muffled gun shot. Then I could hear Robert say, “Get
him again”. Another gun shot rang out
and this one was not muffled. Then I
watched as Sgt. Jim Alford had that man under the shoulders and Robert has his
feet and they carried him past the bottom of the stairs. I could hear both of their voices but now
they where distant and I could not make out their words or location. Then I heard other voices and Mrs. Alford
came in and looked up the stairs and said to whoever she was talking to, “He’s
at the top of the stairs just standing there”.
Then she disappeared and then her son Robert came and looked at me and
walked away. There was a great deal of
commotion that I could hear and not see and then sirens rang out in the
distance and then they became louder and louder. (This is nice it’s all coming together so
fast and I am achieving one release after another and wow I feel so much
better.) An officer wearing a dark blue
uniform came in and looked up the stairs and shouted some things at me, but I
was so far gone from this scene it was like he was yelling at me through a
bucket of water. Then clear and as if it
was right in my ear someone said, “He’s Retarted” and then the officer walked
away. He was a small man with a thick moustache,
and he also had his police hat on too. Then
I just stood their inches from the edge of the steps.
It was daylight when I first froze
and now part of me was watching the sunlight disappear and the house become
dark. I know that all the commotion died
down and that someone eventually closed the front door but no one else came to
check on me. The back of my mind was so
dense with distractions. One minute I
was flying on vines in a jungle as I chased the child Mowgli from the ‘Jungle
Book’ like I was Tarzan. Then I was
running with wolves as a naked child in the snow and tall green trees. At one point I was at the Dallas Zoo where we
watched a large silver back Gorilla eat his porridge and then throw it back up
and play with it in his fingers. (This
Dallas Zoo thing happened. The lady that
was touring us around actually apologized for his behavior and told us that no
one knew why he acted that way. I felt so
very sad for that primate, and it made me cry.)
Then I was flying above the house, and I could see white police cars and
an ambulance all with flashing lights and many people in the front yard. An old woman was bent over that man’s body
and crying and I could hear her sobbing.
It was such an odd sensation I have always been afraid of heights and
especially roofs since they had been tilted and I thought I would fall. However, now I flew way above that house and not
once did I fear falling. To me it felt
like I was weightless and could hover and glide on the wind with no effort.
(Right now,
I just feel so amazing like all my stress has lifted and I am free to relax and
not suffer anymore. I am sure that there
is more I always seem to experience additional chapters of these scenes over
time. However, for now I am appreciative
and feel like I could run with the wind.
Even though I weigh 417 pounds and crippled lol. My teeth are not hurting me and only my left
foot is throbbing with pain but it’s less pain lol.) (It is now 1:44am on May 2nd,
2026, the imagery has stopped so I busied myself designing puppets and texting
my kiddos. Two unrelated kiddos who do
not hang with one another outside the house gave me the same compliment. “You make me think of the future and you hold
me accountable” that was a very odd circumstance to be a recipient of. Also, both are difficult children to motivate
and keep on track maybe they will stop fighting me and telling me ‘No’. I believe that would be a small chance of
likelihood lol. At this moment my brain
feels too good to show me trauma and thus I will be taking a nap. Until once again woken by intrusive images
that tell more of this story.)
(It is May 4th, 2026 @ 9:29pm and I have returned to journaling. My time off has been filled with deep
exhaustion and many dreams. However
today was filled with many kiddos arriving at the same time to help me and then
even more chiming in via text message. Some
had made a pot roast for me and brought additional food then loaded many
containers and filled my fridge. Others
took me to Walmart, and we bought over $200 worth of food. While some stayed and cleaned my entire
house. In just a few hours I had a
fridge and its freezer, a deep freeze and pantry full of food with a sparkling
clean house to relax in. Now while I
have been galivanting around and spreading love to my children, I can still
smell that decomp the native American man put on my arm. I am going to add some dreams that I had in
blue and then move on to the black ink with actual journaling components.)
(Yesterday I had two dreams that had odd
themes that I still haven’t been able to place as regarding relevance. The first had Robert and other family members
in it and we had booked a room at an old folk’s home. We all parked in the parking lot outside this
building and entered this room from an outside door that led directly into this
area. This was an arrangement made by
the others and I had been included but I was not the specific guest, and this
was not centered around me. So many had
tried to get him to confess so that he could go to heaven. My involvement was just part of the process,
nothing specific. We all went into this
room and then people who I didn’t know dressed in white shirts and black pants
held him as he began to confess. I was
assigned a call list of people who needed to be alerted about this process to
invite them. They wanted me to start
with number 38 but no number existed and apparently that was me. Then I took my list back to the organizers
and pointed out this discrepancy. They
then pointed out that I was number 48 and my phone number was there all
along. I am guessing that this is part
of my psychological need to give my amnesic mind and/or subconscious permission
to recall even more and perhaps the names of the victims. Then in another dream the theme became all
about my attendance at a college where the fee had been paid for me to live in
the disability dorm. Then the dream
after this one had my younger brother moving to San Diego. While the people who lived at the house with
the pool moved into our ‘house of hate’.
University makes sense to me since I believe that life is about
soul-progression and a university represents a place to grow. San Diego makes no sense to me. Then the neighbors from next door who had
already moved into the ‘house of hate’ where an old couple who never showed
their faces. In that house I do not
recall such a couple living there and that house was always a rental to my
knowledge. So, what inhabitants would be
moving over while their house was being repaired???)
Now onto the issue with the
decomp. I have been irritable this
morning which is an odd outcome for me then I realized the kiddos would be
arriving and I became happy and focused on my day. The decomp smell began when we were heading
in my truck to Walmart. It made the
burger king whopper difficult to eat but I managed and then that odor became
more intense as we shopped in the aisles and finally found the goat’s
milk. It had risen deep into my nose and
sinuses as we were checking out. Once
home while sitting in the kitchen it returned and became paramount to a large
heap of decaying tissue. I have learned
to hide a gag with complete confidence over the years and this one I was able
to stifle, primary due to haveing my kiddos right there next to me. They all left and that odor has returned and now
I am attempting to process it.
I know that it has to do with my flashback
about the native American man who dealt in decaying body parts. He had touched my forearm with that small
decaying hand while Robert spoke to him in the Gibson parking lot. It surprises me that this element came back
and is now haunting me. I recall now had
I this large gelatinous glop upon my right foreman and that no matter how I
yanked my arm around I could not dislodge this thing from my skin. Robert made fun of me the entire walk back
toward the front of the Gipson’s store and wouldn’t relent even though he could
see that I was deeply panicked and having a conniption. Then as we made it to the concrete step
outside the store front, he grabbed the back of my neck and led me to this old metal
50-gallon barrel that they had chained to a post that held the canopy. He maneuvered me into a position where he
could scrap this dark hijacker off my skin.
It did not go lightly it seemed to have accomplished some depth into my
dermis. Robert had difficulty using the
lip of that can, to dislodge this thing and while he was wrestling that entity,
I felt that it would climb my skin and make it to my face. I couldn’t escape the odor, and the more
Robert attempted its amputation the greater the stench emulsified in my
sinuses. What a sight the two of us must
have made.
My panic grew and I began to scream
out loud since in my mind Robert was now removing my arm from my body with the
ragged edge of that metal can. I had
contorted my self so that though he had my arm I was turned backwards to the
can. I refused to be victimized by
watching him remove my arm just as that other child’s arm had been removed from
its person. (Right now, my elbow on my
right arm is throbbing and cannot find a comfortable position.) He had a hold of me that I couldn’t escape
and that odor was growing and now I am gagging and dry heaving while trying to
breathe enough to make an escape. In my
mind right now is something I once watched occur to a horse or cow. Max had driven me and Robert over to an old
metal and wood barn deep into some thicket.
The sound was horrendous as whatever beast was in this barn was fighting
and frightened. Through the slats I could
see that they had this large beast with its head tied to a post inside the barn
while they seemed to be trying to knock it over on its side. The others outside the barn had said that
this animal had somehow poked a hole in its side and they had to pin it down to
sew it up. That animal thought they were
trying to kill it and it was fighting back with all it could muster. It was the sound of that deep, engulfing wallowing
sound that filled my chest. It was like
a death rattle with an infrasound that felt like a thunderous percussion in my
chest
This was a poor family who had only
a few cattle and needed this one not to die it seemed. And then the loud murderous sound of a fight
to the death ended and changed to the deep inhale and exhale of a beast feeling
its soul extinguishing from this earth as every breath had less power and
intensity than the one before. Then Max
came out of the barn, and he was dragging something in the hay behind him. He had two hind legs of a calf whose coloring
looked like a Holstein cow. Max was
trying to find a limb to hang this calf from, so that its lungs would
drain. It was colored in a glutenous mass
of birth or womb substance, and its hooves had not formed. All the old men came out of the barn and eventually
this calf was hanging upside down and draining.
However, no movement was occurring and the women and girls that where
there all seemed to be huddled up and crying.
They most likely felt that percussive impactive rattling in their chest
too.
The man who I am guessing owned that
cow was mad at Max. He was shouting
about how he wanted to save the animal and sew up the wound and keep the calf
in the womb. Then he added that Max
straight away sliced the mother open and yanked out a calf that was too young
to live. My body was in shock, and I was
close to our truck but on the opposite side of were this calf hanged and the
women cried. Then that man who had been
raising accusations bolted free from his group of men who may have been his
kin. He had a long knife in his hand
that looked a great deal like a fish filet knife more than anything else. This man had it pointed at Max, and this
seemed to be a threat that was supposed to cause Max to leave. Then Max moved toward the man and with what
seemed a practiced ease Max now had the knife.
That man and all of those that dressed like him and resembled him coiled
in fear and the two groups became one as the women fell behind their men. Then Max took that knife and sliced the calf
many times and pieces fell to the ground.
Then he threw the knife to the ground and said, “Don’t ask me or mine
for nothing”. He turned toward his old farm
truck, and Robert lifted me up and tossed me in since I had been frozen at the
front of the truck.
Max was raving about how he wanted
to kill all those people and how he had tried to save the calf, but no one
could see that the cow was unsalvageable.
Robert was quiet too as he fell back into that pose of a small boy
incapable of standing up to his father. I
was frozen and Robert seemed to be too as we both had our bodies jostled around
inside that cab. With no physical prowess
about how to contour our bodies with the bumps of the dirt road. Our stiff cadaver-like forms could not
protect our heads from the occasional pounding upon the dashboards. This comradery of frozenness had both of us careening
like mannequin forms as the bouncing increased due to Max’s growing rage. He was pounding his fist on the dashboard
talking about how he was going to sneak back over their and kill them all. It was when he smashed his hand on the
dashboard that his foot would press on the brake perhaps for emphasis. Then Robert’s and my head would then slam
atop that same dashboard. Max caught on
to this domino style reaction and began to call Robert and I retards and aligned
us with empty headed catabolized cows. I
have no idea what that was referring to, I am aware that sometimes cows are
born with brains too small to act like a normal cow and that the herd will not
tolerate them so you have to place that type of cow into a stall that you keep
filled with water and hay. Then you must
eat that cow early when it stops growing.
I have never seen such a cow, I have only heard stories.
(I am
exhausted this time travel is wearing me out and the sounds of that suffering
cow and the women’s sobs sat inside me when we were there like heavy smoke will
fill your lungs and avoid excretion by way of coughing. For days or weeks afterward, you still excrete
the ash of that toxin. I am attempting
to push through, but this flashback offers a different collum that I have not
faced before. Meaning that it will hurt
more as I process it out and it will require more time. I have no collum for when Robert and I both became
frozen and ridged in our physical form. This
is totally new and that is why it will take longer to fleece apart and locate
all its binding sinew. New traumas offer
a tapestry I have not learned yet and thus can take no short cuts due to lack
of familiarity. I am exhausted and must
take a break here on May 5th, 2026 @ 12:32am.)
(It’s
now May 6th, 2026, at 9:37pm and I begin again. The black men have returned but this time
they are dressed as Ninjas thus I am confused once more. Those sensations of deep dread where I feel inescapable
loneliness and despair started on Tuesday of this week. Then this morning my mind began to play the
scene of Glenda attempting to throw that space heater into my bathtub as Robert
blocked her attempt. When images begin
to repeat it usually means that there is more to that initial flashback or a similar
theme has been unlocked and now more memories centered around a bathtub, space
heater, or Glenda’s homicidal rage will begin to float to the surface. We shall see what occurs.)
Robert’s hand was fast as lightening
when I watched him bat down that space heater in a blink of an eye. He didn’t stop its projectory entirely and it
did make contact with the tub, and that bolt of electricity either came through
the tub itself or arched across the water that had spilled out of the tub. I remember now that the first jolt that made
the water vibrate, made me feel relaxed and ready to sleep. Then my body shook and that caused a pain
that made me feel like I was burning inside then that bolt exited through the
bottom of my chest or that spot where the water line had reached. After that all the pain was in my legs as
they felt like they had been seared and the agony in my feet grew. The pain was in the soles of my feet it
emanated from my musculature like the most severe cramp that I have ever
felt. When Robert went to lift me, he
received an aftershock of that jolt, I remember how he clenched his teeth. The way that he had lifted me like a baby up
toward his face made me feel in my distorted mind that now he was going to
chomp on me and consume my body.
(There
it is it just appeared I watched Robert eat someone that way.) (Just a note from me as I edit this written work at 1:26 am on
May 9th, 2026. I solved that
puzzle just hours ago and I am feeling wonderful and free and my sadness has
lifted. The power of journaling has once
again advanced my mind and grown my spirit.)
We were in the woods, and we had
been hiding in a thicket for some time.
People had been looking for us, and they ran around outside of this
thicket. I had seen them a few times as
I peered out from the hidey hole that Robert had made for me. It was simple he laid me down and piled branches
and leaves upon me, and I stayed in that spot and dug further down while using
the excess dirt to create a ring around my improvised fox hole. I was small and those limbs where larger than
I was thus I made a great deal of room available to myself while I was tucked
away attempting to avoid those men. They had old thin clothes on that had been
tattered and torn along with various hats that looked like they were in
shambles too. Then most of them had long
beards and shaggy hair except for the younger smaller males who may have been
preteens. I cannot recall what sequence
of events led to this desperate attempt at survival. However, I am sure that it will illuminate
itself eventually.
These men had large bloodhounds with
long ears, and they bayed often as they seemed excited but then would stop at
the edge of this thicket. Many of these
trees and bushes in this thicket had thorns and then scattered around were various
wasp nests and ant piles. Many times,
snakes crawled through my hole, but they continued on and when they didn’t, I
threw handfuls of dusty dirt at the heads of the bodies and then off they would
slither. This thicket I am guessing became
a refuge for many animals and insects and they defended it vigorously. None of these men had shoes or boots and
perhaps that’s what kept them out of this thicket. My spot was about 20 feet into this thicket
and my clump of limbs sat amid several large bushes. Meaning that, I don’t believe they could decipher
my camouflage from that adjacent area. Those
hounds could and they often stood outside this thicket and howled while looking
in my direction. They would never enter
this clump of dense underbrush.
These men and boys felt that they
had us pinned in this thicket and at night they had several campfires going. All would be quiet and all I could hear would
be the animals of the night. Then BAM,
BAM, BAM would ring out and many voices would shout and I could hear calls
like, “Here” or “look” then more shots would ring out. At times I did hear the brush around me
rattle like something had disturbed it and then the sound of an impact at times
so close to me that I felt the impact in my belly. At other times I would hear someone let out a
grunt or gasp sound and then they would be howling in pain and a whole commotion
would start with the hounds included.
Many times, that sound of pain would come from another part of the outer
boundary to this thicket. Then I would
hear an approaching rush of what I thought at the time was a gust of wind fly
past my spot. Then that echo pattern
would change, and I could hear loud stomps off in the distance at the exit to
this thicket. Then shouts would be heard
again but this time from younger voices and some yelling “Paw” repeatedly as
those men then ran back toward where that stomping sound had been. Simultaneously to that loud crowd behavior
would be that rushing sound back into the thicket and it would continue way
back behind my hiding spot.
Then as that wind of stomping
trajectory finished and either came to a rest or grew fainter with
distance. Those other voices would ring
out about how more stuff was gone or this time he found our meat. Occasionally I would wake and discover dried
jerky meat in my hole or a half-filled jar, or something stuck to the inside of
an animal skin bag that had the consistency of peanut butter but tasted more
like a charred hamburger. At that time,
I did not put together that these had been deliveries I thought that I had
discovered them when I was digging.
Maybe that was magical thinking of a child or distorted belief system
that I had become that independent and capable of providing for myself. Perhaps something that I missed was that
maybe those hounds smelled my eats and not necessarily me when they howled in
my direction.
I know that I spent a few nights in
my camouflaged hole. The stars had been
exceptionally bright and that iridescent light from above allowed me to have freedom
outside my hole to stand up and stretch then lay back to watch the stars. Things did crawl across me in the dark and of
course the various feelings of something slithering would occur. My time in this thicket was spent building
and expanding my hole. I eventually
incorporated other bush clusters into my maze of crawling space, and I could
venture more during the day as I avoided the sun and its penetrating rays. Ants did find me, but I spent my time picking
them and eating them and when spiders found me, I gave them to the ant pile and
that appeased their hunger and kept them busy.
More imagery is working its way through, and this has been a mixture of
swamp land and forest. Perhaps it was
more of a marsh area at times I could smell salt in the air. We had traveled here because there was
something Robert thought would work out in his favor. It had to do with some buddies he had from
the oil rigs. They owed him a favor, he
thought they had money, it was something that excited him and that he focused
upon as we drove all these hours to get here.
Then, as usual, it didn’t work as he
had believed it would mostly be due to his inability to locate them. He kept driving us further down dirt roads
that eventually turned into walking paths.
Then he hid the car under foliage that he collected by ripping limbs off
trees. I followed him down various paths
into places with such thick brush he had to push past limbs then when he let go,
they would slam back into place. That
action would have been dangerous if I hadn’t been so small, but due to my height
I stayed clear and I was following a pair of feet for what seemed like
hours. Eventually we could hear voices
and the clanking of metal on metal. Robert
eventually walked into a clearing and I fell into his steps not expecting to go
from vegetation touching me to an area devoid of such claustrophobic foliage. I could see a small log cabin with a large
pot out in front of it and many adults with beards standing around it as they
added items and one stirred its contents.
Then laughter approached us as many children came around the back of the
house and had been hitting each other with cattails and until they burst, that
was apparently the game. When the
children witnessed us, they all fell silent and I could feel the wind blowing
by us. Then Robert hollered out in his
loud bellowing country diaphragm about his intentions.
He did this with such a country
holler that I couldn’t understand his words.
Also, it seemed unnecessary since those men where only 30 feet
away. Robert and Max always would become
these shy-faced country boys whenever we met new people out in the rural
area. Then a man approached and shouted
‘Bob’ and they shook hands and suddenly all these people moved forward, and I
was panicked but I did want what was in the pot. The young girls found me, and I was taken
away and once again riding the hips of newly found children as they bounced me
around and passed me here and there. Then
they took me behind the cabin and there was a large picnic style table that had
many animal skins laid out and various globules of berries and maybe they were
fats that the girls scooped with their fingers tips and fed me. Again, just like that thicket I was
wonderfully happy and felt no fear. In
the thicket my job was to stay hidden as I had been told. Here with these people, I knew the game
too. Stay on those hips and eat all they
shoved in my mouth. If I was passed from
one too another then I would go with it and just like the art of improvisation,
I always said ‘Yes’ to the next experience.
The more I was handed around the more often the new person wanted to
feed me, and I benefited from being a gregarious child, willing to laugh and
hold tight as these children bolted as they frolicked with me attached to their
hips.
Eventually the women of this group
found me, and my nakedness had been claimed.
They must have been preparing for me since I was not caried on those
adult hips but lofted above with extended arms and then sat into a warm metal
bushel bucket of water. Many hands
scrubbed me and I was fussy at first but then my skin was covered with this
wonderful smelling lubricant and all my nooks and crannies were cleaned. They rinsed me by placing me on the ground
and pouring a bucket of cold water over me.
Then back out to the girls I ran, and I was scooped up and off to the races
of purpose-oriented frolicking with a goal it seemed. Like fast and faster moving action as I
believe we were playing some type of tag.
Then later I was snatched again by the adult women and sat upon the top
of that picnic table. I was joined by
other smaller children and the task was simple.
These adult women would wear down a piece of meat with their teeth and
find the softest parts and then move them with their fingers from their mouth
to mine. At times they would kiss my mouth,
and I would find I had more meat to chew.
This was the most awesome game I had ever played in my young life. People were playing with me and my reward was
deliciousness. I did not have any complaints,
and I kept this exchange up until I was then placed next to the house atop what
seemed like potato sacks and I fell asleep in a pile of toddlers.
The night came and passed, and I was
woken by the older girls picking me up and cleaning me down in a creek that was
cold but the entire time I was on a hip.
Then breakfast was a series of finger injections into my mouth but this
time the food was peeled off the inside of a cauldron from last night’s
boil. It tasted like pork and heavy
smoke which may have been scalded Grisel and maybe some char. All day we played and then rested under the
trees then visited the creek which ran a bit fast, too fast for them to leave
me unattended. Then as the day waned, I
could hear the men getting louder and tussles had been breaking out. Then all these men had been pointing at
Robert as they stood opposite him but facing him. He scooped me up and began to take me with
him back down the trail we had walked in on.
Night fell and he had made me a nest of branches and leaves and left me
in the dark. Again, the night sky was bright,
and he must have utilized that for whatever adventure he had foretaken that
night. I was woken by gunfire off in the
night’s distance and then suddenly I heard something coming down the trail and
then I was being carried down the path. This
was not a hip but a pair of arms and this was not a frolic but a run for our
lives.
We made some distance perhaps since
I couldn’t hear the gun fire anymore. Then
I was deposited into this thicket, and I was happy to be set down and allowed
to find a safe spot. Robert had held me tight
and jostled me the entire time and I was motion sick and dizzy. Once he laid me down and covered me up, I just
lay there with the salty taste in my mouth not knowing if I was going to throw
up or be able to settle my head and stomach down. Then all that gunfire was all around me and I
laid still even longer trying to figure out what was going on. All I knew was that I was to stay still below
these limbs. This was not a new
situation for me Robert had put me in such circumstances before and had
practiced this event. I am not sure
where those hounds came from since they had not been at that dare I say
festival at the log cabin. That home was
not large enough to fit all these people, and they had the smaller children
sleeping outside. Thus, that must have
been where a family had met up for a boil.
Then Robert offended them, we then became banished from the festivities,
and he obviously went back and did harm since they chased us with such
intent.
Again, there was another place that
he could have left me, and I would have had a wonderful life. These people would have welcomed a boy, and
my days would have been spent with all those older girls being carried around
and fed by a group of mothers. Then
later the men would have taught me to fish and hunt. Thus, my life of providing would have begun
and I would have swamp married someone and then made many babies all the while
taking in other children that had been orphaned by freak storms or snake attacks. My education would have been low if any, but
my life would have been productive and free from abuse and trauma. I am reminded about the woman who raised all
those pigs and how we spent our nights throwing rocks keeping the pigs safe
while they slept and we did not. I could
have had a storybook life out there in that rural area too. However, this is my life, and I know that as
the memories play my past will unfold and hence, we will cease having pleasant
conversations about a large family boil.
(Not one
thing is occurring in my head on May 7th, 2026 @ 2:28am. Perhaps there is so much quality content of a
positive nature that the negative cannot flow through. I am going to switch over to social media now
and post some things. My intention is to
wait this out and see if the negative reappears. I had a foreshadow pertaining to Robert
eating someone and then of course that emotional symptomologies are all
pointing to a flashback. However, it’s
been minimally negative and maximally positive as my past has unfolded. I am enjoying that trapse through the
underbrush of the recesses of my mind. Yet,
it is time to squeeze that membrane and see what it will let loose so that I
can avoid having this come up at a time that it could adversely affect some
other day.)
(It is now May 8th, 2026,
at 3:06pm. My sadness had been profound,
but no images appeared. My kiddos came
and even that wouldn’t lift my sorrows.
Then I decided that I needed to take a panic pill and I have been asleep
since Thursday afternoon. I am linking
all these entities since I believe that they are all connected and have a
similar Gensis. The mentally ill man
that died in the house and who’s body was collected outside the ‘house of hate’
still has not resolved and then we add the fear of me being eaten that led to a
swamp saga. My pit of despair continues
to envelope me and I am suffering but I have not been able to push
through. What I will employee today is a
seek and search of my mental impressions in hopes that I can spring forth an
epiphany of subconscious content. That
will be the first domino in a sequence of cause and effect and eventually lead
me to the trauma at the center of what’s causing my emotional upheavals. To add to this my older brother informed me today
that he would not be taking care of me if I develop Altheimer’s and that he
would send me to an assisted living lol.
That is my place in this gene pool I have no worth and there are no
attachments that include me as an equal LOL.)
The
image of Roberts body biting into a small body with his teeth as he brings the
belly up to his mouth continues to occur as does the electric shock from the
space heater. A new image is me being
held in someone arms while one of the bearded men uses the butt of his rifle to
hit that person in the face. Then the
image ends, nothing else has flowed. I am
remembering now that these men eventually caught Robert when he was attempting
to carry me with him as he ran out of the thicket. The path that he was running down that I am
guessing led back to the car was blocked with other men who I am guessing had
been placed there to deny his escape. Robert
was kneeling and begging for mercy but refused to put me down. He was using me as a human shield and that
ended when a man with a thick brown beard smashed hm in the face. The butt of this rifle was odd it had a shiny
metal end piece that may have been polished brass and then the top of the end
had an elaborate extension of wood that I guess would allow the marksman to
hold the rifle aloft atop his shoulder. Now
everything has stopped again. This is
frustrating since in the past when I open an image then the others come through
that same door. Right now, it’s as if I open
a door and receive one imagine and then must go look for the next door. Where did the synchronicity of my serendipity
go???
These men either came prepared for
me or one of them just happened to have had an animal skinned pouch with one
strap and I was placed inside it, and it felt like a papoose due to the tightness
of the skin. It was deep and narrow more
like a man-made quiver. I could see over
this man’s shoulders at times as we walked and rested. Robert had his hands tied behind his back with
a tether that was about 6 feet long and held by another man. When we would sit to rest all the men chawed
down on tough smoked meats and gave me some, that they had chewed down, it was
amazingly good and I wanted more. Then
the men began to refer to me as ‘hungry boy’ and took turns holding me in their
laps and chewing this jerky for me. I
could see that Roberts face was bruised, and he continually asked if he could
hold his boy. When they allowed this, he
loved bombed me with many kind words and promised that we would be going
home. All of this was for his preservation
and his attempt to manipulate his captures.
When he said we would be going home that upset me tremendously and I
stood in his lap and had my hands on his face as I said ‘now’ in a questioning
manner. I wanted to go home and had been
enduring so much trauma in hopes of going home soon. Then he mentioned this and that thought came
to the forefront and my question was me begging to go home now.
I began to cry as Robert kept promising
that we would go home later he kept saying “another day” which he must have
thought I would understand. Then these
men picked me up and as they carried me away, I became hysterical screaming the
word ‘NOW’ as loud as my small body could muster. I was placed back in the bag and we began to
walk. Occasionally we would stop and I
would be jostled around as these men responded to Roberts continued attempts to
escape or his inability to stay quite while he attempted to find a chink in
their determination to exploit for a future gain. He would endure massive beat downs and then
come back up talking just as much as before.
Then they gagged him and he continually found ways to communicate one
was that he began to hum words and he was close to making that hum sound like a
real word. Robert knew he was stuck and
might not make it out of this one. I
wonder how many alters were concerned and if they had pushed an entity to the
forefront to try and work an angle???
Also where was the green wolf, why not appear now, before they arrived
back at that cabin and the captive numbers multiplied???
These men kept stopping one another
from beating him to severely and continually stated, “Save him for the hangman”
or “Wait for the tree”. We eventually
entered an opening, but this was not where we had been before. This meadow had many log style cabins and the
numbers expanded to about 100 swamp looking people. Robert was delivered on his knees to a circle
of white bearded elders, and I was presented as they stood me up. The language these men spoke was not English
and then they waved a hand and I was picked up and passed to the women who
stood behind these men while these older men sat inside the circle at the
smallest part. This woman kissed my head
and checked me from head to toe as they stood me on a table. These old women opened my mouth looked in my
ears and then blessed me with these long hairs that extended out from designed
wooden handles. Then I was fed with
fingers and eventually the older girls that I knew from before claimed me from
that table and off we went to run and frolic with all the other children. I was riding hips again and being washed in
the water after every poop. Again, I was
returned to heaven, and Robert was now a prisoner due to the suffering he
caused others.
Continually I was brought to that
circle of old men, and they pointed at me and many words had been spoken and
then translated and proposed to Robert for truthful answers. I believe that in this culture lying in front
of your son must have been a litmus test and I was some type of barometer. Robert was free now and I watched as he used
wide arms gestures and prayer hands as he went into some story about how he was
a father first and wouldn’t have burdened his son with something. The words had been shouted and at times
tremendous emphasis had been placed on certain ones. He would move from side to side in this
circle of bearded men and knelt with praying hands then bolt to a standing
position and approach the other side of this circle. I could see that all this movement made these
men uneasy and many partially pulled their knifes from their sheaths when he
did approach them. It was like watching
him perform a dance, but what he was really doing involved his probing of these
men and how they adjusted to him. His
predator instinct was highly active, and these people had no idea what they had
captured.
Another variable that occurred at
night involved these medicine men who had many symbols painted upon their skin
in bright white substance and they danced around Robert as he kneeled in that
circle and they blew smoke on him from a long pipe. They chanted and had these seashell looking ornaments
around their ankles and wrists that they made sure to shake and stomp as they
rattled loudly. Robert was highly
involved and accepted this smoke with two open hands and then doused himself
with the smoke. He would be on one knee
and then stretch his arms out with palms down and his head bent while they
touched him with a highly decorated stick that this parishioner of indigenousness
was touting as he danced. Robert
received all and I could hear him repeating this shaman’s words as he tilted
his head back and spoke to the sky. My
presence was important for some reason, and I was made to stand there and watch
but I do not know precisely what role I played.
Of course, all of this was for effect and to Robert it was a game of survival,
and he would have won an Oscar had this been filmed.
Something had transpired while all
those children had me away playing. The
old men had moved to one of the picnic style tables far off at the end of this
community. The women had filled their
tables with food, and no one visited them or partook of their cornucopia. The children that carried me on their hips as
we ran around in circles at this settlement knew to avoid these men. Then these small drums came out, and the men
circled and the women stood behind them while the children climbed in trees and
on tables to watch the center of this circle.
I was on a hip being held by a tall girl who stood upon a table. A rope had been strung from the limbs up high
and then dangled about 10 feet off the ground.
This one had no hangman’s noose it was a loop that they had drawn the
other end of the rope through. This man
was standing atop a table and was using an animal skin with some content inside
it to draw a glistening substance across the part of the rope that was closest
to the noose. Then they brought Robert
up onto the table and it was obvious that he had been beaten even more than
before. His face and upper torso had
many dark marks, and he had trouble standing up. They adjusted the length of this rope through
communitive calls and shouts none of them in English. Then the rope was around Robert’s neck, and
the tension was being pulled by the men on the other side of the tree. Up on the high limb where this rope hung, I
could see that the tree was filled with bearded men. Then in unison all these people began to sing
a song in another language.
Those small drums tucked under their
arms beat and that rope stretched Robert from a hunched position into a
standing one and then his feet began to dangle.
That song changed in rhythm and became louder it may have been a
different song. Arms were raised up and
all these people seemed to be sending prayers forth. They did not make this feel like an execution
but some type of ceremony. More like in
the movie ‘the wicker man’ with Nicolas’s cage or the movie ‘Midsommar’ directed
by Ari Aster set in Sweden. It seemed
that Robert did something heinous and was found guilty and then his execution
was becoming more a part of a pagan ritual.
They did not seem to believe that this act was disturbing, they allowed
me and all the children to be present and watch what was happening and of
course everyone sang and lifted their hands up high when the song reached a
certain point. I watched Robert’s body
levitate but it didn’t seem to me that it was him. Maybe my brain blocked something, or his
disheveled appearance made me confused.
It was him, in my eyes, when he stood up on the table but not now that
he was strung up and that noose had tightened to where his face had darkened in
the sunlight. None of these people
looked at him, they all had their eyes looking upward and their heads tilted
back. Then his body went limp for just a
second it was the blink of an eye that his body lost tension and his toes hung
down with his whole torso and extremities supported by his neck.
Then his eyes opened wide, his neck expanded
with muscle and his arms broke free from the restraints that had held his
arms. His hands grasped the rope above
him and up went his feet. He had his
legs extended out from his hips and now was climbing the rope. The singing had stopped and screams began to
fill the air. Then his skin began to change color, and all those long black
hairs began to grow, and his head was now out of the loop, I didn’t see how
that happened. This catlike creature
with fangs now dangled on that rope by its two hands with claws. Then as it observed the crowd something drew
its gaze up and it began to climb that rope into the tree. Then that rope must have been released and
all those new limbs windmilled in the air as gravity prevailed. Once this cat like thing fell it immediately
jumped up and caught a limb in that tree and I could hear the men scream as
some dropped due to death and others in their attempt to escape. Many bodies
fell from that hangman tree, and some bolted off into the swamp while others ran
calling out names and grabbing hands of the women and children as they ran away
into the swamp. I was in the arms of a
scared girl and then as this group milled about and hands were grabbed and the
mob reduced into nothing, I found myself on my belly in the grass. I do remember that the girl held onto me and
then an adult woman took me and then a man pulled her arm, and I fell out of
her grasp. I was alone in the sunshine close
to that table as I heard voices calling out and whistles being made and then
those sounds that accompany wounds. Alone
again in one of Roberts acts of mayhem that killed the innocent and left the
wounded screaming for help that may never come.
Robert, in his beastly form, would not be far and whoever returned to
save the dying would join them permanently.
I came up off the ground
discombobulated and unsure of what all was happening I believe that enough
trauma had begun for my dissociative state to begin and confusion
prevailed. I climbed atop that table
since to me it meant a place of safety.
For days food could be found there, and all the children came to this
table to eat. Then I could hear the
sounds of suffering, all around me.
These men who had fallen had spread out trying to get away. They now became a strewn orchestra of critically
wounded men. Like a battlefield scene
after the cannons fired grapeshot into what the opposing army offered as cannon
fodder for the artillery men. A heavy
scent filled the air it was similar to when you sniff a horse’s coat after it’s
been doused with rain but now remains in the barn, but it also had this odd metallic
smell like coins in a mason jar. Then
whiffs of that odor that accompanies a large carcass being butchered. Not the odor of when the innards fall but
that other smell after someone has hung it to rest in a refrigerated room. I did not know these smells at this age but
later in life I accompanied my grandfather Max to many a stockyard and then
both an outdoor butcher barn and a refrigerated butcher hanging room. It’s odd but I recall how in that smell I
could tell Robert was nearby. When he
came home from the oil fields there was some special soap that he used in the
shower and then once he was out, he doused himself in some type of powder and
aftershave. That small frail combination
was lofting in the air too just a hint like a single thread in a sewn
fabric. You would have had to have that olfactory
memory to have been comforted by that hint of a trace.
For
a moment I was comforted and I sat at the top of that table with my legs
dangling figuring that soon Robert would appear. Then something touched my foot and I looked
down with this expression of who was playing with me. Then I witnessed a man with half a face and
his other eye dangling. With that type
of facial wound, I don’t know how he located my foot. I then entered a frozen state and couldn’t
move. Something jutted out of the green
and was attacking and smelling the bodies that lingered upon this ground where
they fell. Then at some spots gurgling
occurred and then at others it sounded like a beast feeding. Then that Tigerman stood and had a small
child in its arms, and it brought it up to its mouth and then intestines
dangled as that face chewed. Then
someone made a sound and that child was dropped and the Tigerman gone and
screams filled the air. Then a gunshot
occurred and there were a great deal of wood snapping and multiple screams and
pleas, then all was silent. That figure
worked its way back upon that field of fallen victims that now became disemboweled
bodies and as I sat there my sinuses became engulfed with all the
aforementioned smells, in greater quantity and that man who had been below me
now was tossed up over my head and hit the ground dissected. This Tigerman was now behind me, and I could
hear it sniffing me and then it licked my neck with a large wide gritty tongue. I could feel my skin attached to that tongue
and it felt like it would have received an abrasion had that tongue not
disengaged itself. Like the sticky side
of the Velcro strip my skin had been grasped and released with purpose. It was at that moment that I could feel
another presence entering my out-of-body ghost as it took into the air to
survey this carnage and allow me to feel as if I had achieved safety. My bubble was stuffed with my entity and that
Tigerman’s essence filling a space created for one. Again, one of his alters had that spatial
ability to invade my extra sensory escape.
(This scene allowed for a release, that moment of cannibalism
occurred and now I am cleansed at least for a while. A question would be is it still considered
cannibalism if the alter is a different species??? It’s now May 9th, 2026, at 12:05am
and finally this trauma revealed itself and moved from the amnesic mind through
my subconscious and into my consciousness.
To me it’s reminiscent of the sandskiff that is required to pass through
the fold on the Netflix show ‘Shadow and Bone’ series. It’s a treacherous and perilous journey and
you will be attacked it seems but once you make it through to the other side
then you’re safe. The fold represents
the transitional spaces between my amnesic mind and the subconscious and then
between there and my consciousness. My
ship is different each time since it’s an image that I wait for and then ride through
to release me from that pain. The movie ‘Lil
Shop of Horrors’ where the plant pleads “feed me Semore” comes to mind as my psychosomatic
pain is demanding it be satiated with trauma and it will feed for as long as I
allow it to. The pain will just build,
and the depression will follow and somewhere in there a psychosis will
occur. I have been enduring this pain
since the beginning of May and continually came up with null and void when it
came to a skiff to ride to release. I
stayed on task and made sure that I slept and ate, which gave me energy and
then I chipped away at immovable walls and opened doors that led to one small
clue until finally I hit the right door and began my journey through the fold
and toward the end of one journey. That
door search reminds me a great deal of the show ‘What we do in the shadows’
that’s based in New Zealand I do so enjoy the energy vampire. I hope one day that my writing will help others,
but these journeys take such high IQ and EQ strengths and variables knitted
through out my genetic code that I am not sure how those that are fundamentally
different to me could prevail. As Freud
and Jung shined a flashlight in the dark I have but a candle in my heart. Find me, follow me, and I hope to lead you to
the end. But if not, we could still part
as friends. WHERE ARE MY KIDDOS WHEN I
NEED THEM LOLOLOLOL. MANY HAVE CHECKED
IN AND ALL ARE IN BED. TUCKED AWAY IN
COVERS THAT THEY PULLED OVER THEIR HEAD.
A PUPPY OR TWO YAWNS IN THE NIGHT I WILL SEE THEM ON WEDNESDAY I AM TOLD,
AS WE PART FOR THE NIGHT.)
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