Part One - Chapter Two

2. Chapter Two

While growing up or trying to, Not knowing where to start, I looked around for someone who, May help reveal my heart - someone said," "While you're a part of Crackerbox Palace, Do what the rest all do, Or face the fact that Crackerbox Palace, May have no other choice than to deport you."

- George Harrison
"Crackerbox Palace" from "Best of Dark Horse"

I met Phil in 1980.

In the telling of it, I suppose you have to see where it started. Steve introduced us.

I miss Steve, I have not seen him for more than 10 years I think now. He was my best friend through High School. A time that I would not relive if given the chance. Save for Steve, it was void of good times. Awkward skinny kids we were, and in an analysis, I wonder if it was destiny or if it was the kinship of insecure nerdy outcasts that brought us together.

But it started long before I met Steve. Long is relative and in those days two years was long. I met Steve when I was sixteen. But in the summer of my fourteenth year is when it started.

I had begun to understand that I could affect things by thought. It was instinctive and my real use of this came in the fall as school started. I loved, still do love, summer. Not just for the fact that it was free time, but for the fact that it was life. You have to remember, the Earth was how he enticed me to come back again.

As fall came, so came the frosts, and my discontent. I don't really know why I started to make my thoughts become action, but something caused it. I hated some of the teachers I had. Their capacity for boredom was well..., it was something you must have to train for, because no one is that boring lest they be taught.

The substitutes were the best. They came in with a lesson plan to cover, but were often weak minded. Easily swayed. We had a substitute for Math that was a classic. He was ancient as age goes to a fourteen year old, and loved the telling of his life. He was poor in instruction skills, having been brought up in the age where you told someone how to do something, you didn't teach them. You see, explaining it was beyond the grasp of those who taught in his day. It was a thing to be told and you either got it or you did not.

He was fun. I thought I was imagining things when I would send directed thought to him to tell another story. Just to get him to stop the droning. I didn't understand what he was trying to teach us anyway. Save for that. At any rate, once was just happenstance. Twice was interesting, the third time was down right curious. Then when he drifted on his own, put him back on course. No this is silly. You didn't really affect this.

OK, Ok, this time, work hard to keep him from drifting. Ugg enough of that, now tell us another story about the trains.

"You know this reminds me again of a time when I was working the railroad..."

Well, often you can convince yourself of almost anything. Hell I married someone who could rationalize anything, ANYthing. Thank god someone invented divorce. But I digress. The pattern of life is interesting in that you can often convince yourself that a thing is what you see in it. It is a human failing, I think. But born out of instinct and survival. Something to justify the choices we make in life. At least the choices we wish we had not made. We blame it on destiny or rationalize it in some form or another. Anything but to take responsibility for the decisions or actions we take.

In this case I worked to disprove I was affecting what was happening. I tried, best I could to set things up to disprove, or rather prove I could not affect the thoughts of others. This was too strange. I tried other teachers. I am ashamed to say ultimately I drove one from teaching altogether. I would undo that if I could. Oh it could have been his choice and destiny if you will to stop. Perhaps I simply gave him the reason to change his career. A decision he could not make of his own will. But I wish now and did then that I had not had a hand in it.

It was not simply dropping mental suggestions on his mind, it was more than that. It was the pure and cruelly honest actions of children as well. And others had a hand in it. But without my mental antics, ... well anyway.

My next memories of the exercise of power came in the spring of that year. As the buds formed and the sun warmed. I loved the Earth, still do. I love the mountains, and spring is the best. Redbud and Dogwood are awe inspiring. We had cold spells as the buds opened that year. I knew that it was going to kill the flowers. I took my mental energies spent at working over the Math and German teachers and used it to a new task.

Weather control. The Weather man would say, "Going to be a cold one." Hell it was probably David Letterman if I remember right. Probably was me that gave him his sense of humor. "Well it didn't get as cold as it was supposed to last night..." Poor guy. He was wrong more often than not when I was working the weather.

But was is rationalization?

That year, was one of the best in my memory. The buds and fruits in were outrageously wonderful. Colour was grand. Weather was beautiful.

It was then, when I started on the weather, that they came again.

They were incessant. I have learned to hate them. They worked the guilt angle. Tried to present themselves as angels come to help my conscience go right again after straying from right.

"This is wrong, you should not make people do things. They have their own choices and you are interfering with their lives and it is wrong."

Well it may not have been right, but in the end I do believe it was not wrong. For I made no one do anything in the end, they did not want to do. Leading some one to a place is not pushing them. I never dropped the mental suggestion to jump off a cliff, or drive a car head-on into a bridge abutment. Nor did I put the thought in anyone's head to harm another. Those things would have been wrong, but I was going on 15, high in puberty.

I made the biggest mistake of my life.

I listened to them.

What makes someone good or bad is not their actions, but rather what is in their heart. I was young and missed this. For in the hearing of them I was surprised and awed I think. Must be nuts admitting you heard voices, but they were there. They did not come to me in my dreams, for that was reserved for fear and brainwashing. If I saw them, I would know the lie. No they came in my head and they had not done that before. So I listened. And the best was to convince someone of something, anything, is to put just enough truth to the telling as to make it seem right or real. And that they did.

"It is not right to make Mr. Smith tell stories, that is not what he wants to or is supposed to do. "

Well you are partly right, but he would not do it if he didn't want to.

"Mother Nature has her own way, there is a reason for everything and you are interfering with her plan."

Well maybe. In then end I relented. The crime here was not that it was ok to do it, or even that it should or should not be done. It was I stopped practicing. Remember I said, no real harm was done, save for the German teacher and I had help there. I was but one of several who caused that, and it was not just my mental suggestions. No the crime was the cessation of the learning experience.

I don't think I have a larger regret in my life.

It is not in me to harm others, or to cause them to harm. That would be wrong. My learning had taken on the right course, I had moved on from mental suggestions to weather manipulation. And that was what got their attention. That was how I got on their radar screen again. If I had proceeded with that, I may have transitioned on to much more powerful things such as Astral traveling and mental transportation of the physical body. I was on that track.

If I learned this power and learned to control it, I would be a threat. A threat in and of myself, and a real threat to them when I finally met Phil in this life. If I learned to move the physical world, then I could move to the next level. That would be manipulation of the energy to material and back again. Teleportation, the creation of matter. No, it is more than that, you see all that is this life is nothing more than illusion. It would mean the greatest treasure of all. The understanding, the real understanding, that all of this life is but an illusion.

They are bastards.... They are evil. In the end they are pure evil.