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11.29.03 - 12:44 p.m.

When I was a kid I had an active imagination, it was fueled, in part, by reading a lot of specualtive fiction and a lot of 'non-fiction' books on the paranormal. I totally believed in ghosts, ESP, UFOs, all that stuff, and I was convinced somewhere in one of these other-worldly subjects I would find my escape.

For a big chunk of my younger years I completly believed aliens were abducting humans for some unknown purpose. I had constructed a world where the 'greys,' you know the guys with the big heads, little bodies, and huge eyes, were abducting people for probably not-so-good reasons. I had sort of branded them the 'bad guys,' or at least the shady ones.

Also, there were the beautiful looking one's called the Pleidians. They looked like a very polished nordic version of humans, Hitler's wet dream for a race, probably. Anyway, these guys were quite benevolent and only wanted to help mankind see their fullest potential. The good guys.

Then, there were some people on earth that I thought were "star children," a title thought up by a really kooky writer/psuedoscientist named Brad Steiger. They were humans that had some genetic make-up that was the same as the Pleidians, because a long, long time ago the Pleidians had come here to Earth to tweek the then prehistoric man, thus pushing forward the evolution of mankind.

The "star seed" genes were about to wake up and all of the Star People would realize they were special and had a grand purpose, here on Earth, that would help bring a peace on Earth none had ever seen.

And, there in lies the reason for my fantasizing..."the Star People would realize they were special." As a child, it was so important to believe I was special and somewhere there were some very benevolent beings waiting for me to realize this, so they could swoop me away to a place where everything would be alright.

I think I truly needed to believe this to have a reason to survive. I walked around carrying such dark secrets about my grandfather that at times I felt I couldn't keep living. As a kid, I was looking forward to death, so I would finally be rid of all of this feeling of guilt, a guilt that I could not trace back to a reason.

I have been thinking about my sexual abuse from my grandfather a lot lately, and I have come to realize I can only see my memories as if I am watching a movie and the story is unfolding with actors, I can not re-live the feelings that were involved, only see the images. Whenever I think I may have touched on the emotions, I feel as if there's this great dam inside and it's about to give, and if it does I'll drown under the flood it's holding back.

In a way, I'm a little bit sad that the tricks I used as a kid don't work as an adult, but then I guess that would make me crazy, huh? Constructing realities to help you escape this one, is something that would be get me right into a little jacket that buckles in the back. But, to be honest, I would just like to live a moment oustside of this world, to feel completly free of my past.

I still find myself looking to the stars a lot at night. Little bright spots in a vast sea of dark, like beacons alluding to a grand release. They've become a symbol for me, a reminder that freedom is always there, shining in the dark.

 

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