November 29 2012
Lillian you are supposed to write (and act in) the scenario’s unfolding…not send me angry confronting letters every five minutes…What is going on with you?
Lilly’s replies…”Fuck of Bitch! I am not wearing a tent dress”. “Great Brothel District in ToyTown…love and best witches from the biggest whore in a Babylonian type of brothel in Kanak”…and this one…which could be the last one…which simply said… “Oh shit”.
No response … … …
And then…this arrived……
Dearest Sandy…my name is Lillian Web Wing and I am currently residing in the the city of Kanak with my cat Panther Puss…
The Skull Islands
My accomplice Rob Millroy and I recently visited the Skull Islands located close to but not in the Crystal Palaces of the Antarctic. The expedition team included Danton and Mico who made his presence felt in more ways than one.
Upon our arrival on your/our brothers planet, I wasted not time in implementing my scheme to interfere with the Reptilians map making schemes. I set about designating no go areas and go fast stretches via the approbation and application of various elements designed to obscure the readings on their eye instruments…using wavering magnetic polarities of substances known only to my own personage.
So for the sake of your own curiosities and intrigue regarding the situation I shall tell you of some of my observances... I took pictures of some of these things and not others…because my camera batteries ran out…as if by some divine providence by those who did not want a public record of various of this schemes intricacies.
First things I notice include blue bottles washed up on the beach, a black dog, dead trees on the fringes of the island and rocks stories. I also noticed malformed shells and other landscape features that echoed my own experiences in the Time Tunnels of Iniquity.
On the second night my relaxing rest was disturbing by a flock of white birds that flew around and around my tent making a very loud racket.
The next day, the four of us set out for South Skull Island…I had no compulsion to explore North Skull Island…same island..another dimension…as I had been there once before…a girl I knew from school…her family had a house atop that island…when I was eighteen I went there with Peter Danish and Judee…we slept on the beach that night…as it happens Peter’s dog had about eight or ten puppies at the time so they came with us…we had all the puppies on the beach with us and at some point we took them down to the waters edge so they could experience the ocean for themselves…well some elderly ladies who lived nearby became convinced that we were going to drown them…but that was not our attention and that is not what happened. At that time I was sharing a house with Peter and Judee in Jardine Street opposite Telopea Park in the old city of Kanak in Guess Whose Garden of the Beast…but that is another story and I am digressing.
The weirdest thing happened when I set out to visit South Skull Island…I had to go past North Skull Island…when I looked up at it…to ponder about it…I noticed a cage with bars had been built there…next to it a black figure emerged out of some shrubbery… jumped up, waved it’s arms in the air and then vanished back in to the shrubbery. Later I saw a blag dog with white scruff on it’s chest.
That first day we climbed up Skull Island and explored it’s interior…we sat for a while near some logs and I noticed a snake like stick sticking out of the ground, it was covered in what can only be described as mossy barnacles…I put eyes on it in an oddly angled way.
Once a long time ago I had explored the interior of Skull Island with my son Nico…he was about nine years old at the time…there were not that many trees on it in those days…in fact it was quite bare….I found a yellow painted starfish there…I remember taking a picture of a log that had been washed up on the rocks that looked like a sea creature with staring black eyes…well guess what I saw that exact same log washed up on the beach…exactly the same but much smaller or was I bigger?
And I am digressing again…on the second day we walked across the land bridge to walk around the island the other way… first odd thing I noticed was a tiny skull…it occurred to me was that it was the skull of a tiny walrus…I brought it back to Kanak so that I could take a picture of it…then about ten metres further on I saw or rather smelt the huge carcass of a motley seal or walrus creature…when I say motley it had patchy brown fur with spots and blotches all over it…it’s head was missing.
Suddenly my attention was captured by the sight of a huge white eagle flying overhead…I have never seen an eagle like that…with such a large wing span…in these parts ever…
I saw a flat rock with white shells embedded on it…they looked like the skulls of tiny children…I placed one half of my selenite crystal on it…the other half having separated off during those depressing days lost in the woods.
On the beautiful little bay between the islands that I claim as my own along with South Skull Island …I saw hundreds more blue bottles…little ones… on the beach…a log of wood…a fragment of a ship…immediately I thought of the Titanic and all those boys who lost their lives and the old ladies who didn’t…but later I wondered if it was a sub marine.
Anyhoos it was covered in barnacles and they were flapping wildly. In amongst the barnacles white tentacles thrashed about and it occurred to me that what I was witnessing was the creation of a new kind of life form…born here in this little bay via the judicious arrival of blue bottles on the beach at the same time as the barnacles and the mysterious white tentacles…that appeared to function as an intermediary between the two.
I had this revelation that blue bottles manifest on the higher planes to contain and carry the poisons of previous epochs out of the sea onto the sand to be burnt by the sun...further clarity came by way of other signs indicating that this was indeed the case…blue tape wrapped around seaweed, blue rope wrapped around a driftwood bleached white by the sand, the sea and the salt. Blue paint spattered on a rock…
Monday, December 10, 2012
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sandy Parker and the Planet of Wrong
The Planet of Wrong
…Ok I am back now Lily….I have heard on the grapevine that you think I bought or have tickets for or on myself…do you honestly think I contrived all this because I wanted to be a superhero or something?
...Lily!!!...I was running for my life…
When the invaders of ourselves arrived here…there was virtually nothing left of their original selves…they could not move about like the natives of this planet due to the absence of plant and animal totems in their sphere of existence…the fourth dimension. I suppose they were the original zombies…at first they hunted in packs at night like wild dogs…then over time…they took on many different forms…too many to mention here. One faction went onto become technological experts. With permission from the head honcho’s…who did not know the full story…and it is only recently that I found out about it…the ‘visitors’ were given permission to abduct the natives for use in genetic experimentation…the purpose being to create a suitable ‘ka’ for themselves that could be multi-dimensional like the ones the natives had…but… for some reason the ‘ka’s’ that they created began to fold…or rather unfold.
It soon became apparent that their ka’s were unfolding because the spirit essence would not stay attached to the ka bodies…
Oh Lily…you should have been there and not in Bargaloo. You would not have been in stupefied state if you had…perhaps not? Who can tell?
The next phase of experimentation involved atomic tests at Maralinga and in the South Pacific and elsewhere, nuclear fission experiments, gene splicing, particle accelerator experiments, orgasms ect ect…I was not there for a lot of it so I can’t tell you exactly what happened…but I was there for some of the worst of it.
Now I don’t know how they did this, but they found a way to peel a person’s spirit essence off them which made it possible for them to then inhabit their ka bodies. I won’t tell you what they did next because it would give the game away… as it were… to the current influx of ‘invaders of ourselves’.
Before too long…well… a long time ago now…I sussed out their game plan and came up with a plan of my own. I discovered a way to reintegrate the parts of my selves that had ‘gone missing’ and thus was able to hold onto myself…even in the absence of my own ka body…which surprise, surprise…was also missing.
Repeated attacks on my personage necessitated the construction of a dome of light…at first it was only big enough for me…I then found a way to enlarge it to include my family (and later the world )…I could not help Pedro (at the time) or my mother and various other folk…including my father…whoever he is? They were beyond help…I am sorry to say that I gave up on them.
There were times when I felt like the only person in the world or that I had been asleep for a very long time...it was on one of those occasions I found myself alone with a blue tongue lizard…the blue tongues knew that I had a ‘thing’ for them. They knew that I just about burst into floods of tears whenever I saw one squashed on the road.
One time…I was visiting my mother…we were in her garden…when a beautiful blue tongue lizard came over the hill…or rather the raised garden bed that formed a border between my mother’s garden and the vacant area of land behind it. Immediately my mother’s dog…a West Highland Terrier by the name of Connie rushed out and began mauling it. Shaking it violently in her jaws…there was nothing we could do to save it…It happened so fast…I remember screaming in horror…then Connie dropped the lizard…it was badly mangled but still alive… I screamed and started crying and hyperventilating…I could not go to it…I could bear to see it’s suffering…my mother’s husband chopped it’s head off with a shovel to put it out of its misery…I was shaking and shaking.
Anyway…something in me died that day…something in me died the day I saw a man in a truck deliberately drive into two cockatoos flying across Kingsford Smith Drive…way too close to the ground…killing one of them…and the night…Jon Jon hit a kangaroo driving back from Jerangle…and the day a parrot flew into my car as I was driving down Bungle Lane.
I took the parrot home and buried it under my flowering apricot tree.
The story I tell today is different to the story I might have told yesterday…
Yesterday I did not know exactly what I was dealing with…it was only after the ‘white light orb’ episode of 1996…that I even made a connection between my ‘issues’ and those of the ‘aliens’…before that it was just ghosts… or hags that sit on your chest at night and suck the life out of you.
One night…several years ago…cannot remember what date exactly…I was still living in Bungle Lane. I had moved out of my husbands bed for good and basically did my best to avoid him…I had long since given up trying to converse with him in any meaningful way…I was sleeping in a room that my son Nico had slept in and he was sleeping in a room that my other son Danton had slept in and Danton was sleeping in a room that he had once shared with Nico…that would eventually become mine and then the three Indian boys and finally Danton’s again.
So…there I was just lying there…when all of a sudden…the room began to change…just like in my poem…Suzette, Suzette, Wherever you Are?
First the furniture faded out…then the walls…the ceiling…until I was just suspended in a ‘misty space’. I became dimly aware that I was lying in bed…but it could have been a ‘slab’…and that approximately twelve robed figures stood in a circle around me…I could see their faces…they were the lizard men…one of them was a white lizard and another I recognised from one of your photos of a spying hole location Lily…a gun wielding birdman no less.
You have to imagine my mindset at the time….I was sick of being intimidated and bullied and not just by own kind but this lot as well…not to mention the nocturnal visits by the bug eyed oriental lady and her insectoid companion or Victor…for that matter.
If I was to describe my mental state at the time it would be…very calm, kool and collected and pissed off…I said “I am not afraid of you”….the very site of the hooded birdman is enough to turn me into a wild cat…but not that night.
One of them, or was it all of them at once, said… “You’re not from around here are you”.
One time I saw Usurunan ….or was it the birdman or one of the lizards…perhaps an alternative self? …was in a movie about an Arab Sheik and his camel...i thought WOW…he’s really handsome compared to that other lot...i also discovered something interesting…it was the sting of an Asp that killed my brother…he did commit suicide, I am told…and… it was the poison in the sting that drove him to it.
When we were teenagers living in a Forrest in the City of Kanak…we made a suicide pact…
Lily…did you know that when you make a suicide pact with someone…even half-heartedly…it is a suicide pact nevertheless and a pact is a pact. What could we do…we were living in a nightmare…paradise for the reptilians and the retirees but not for us.
I found out that the things that happen to an atom that is split is somewhat similar to the things that happen when an egg is fertilised or a planet is…but…there is a right way and a wrong way…three guesses for which ways lead down one path or another…
I also found out that the shit hits the fan down one of these paths at 86 resolutions leaving only 14 resolutions for the children of tomorrow and that is not enough resolutions.
So Lily…do you understand…that I was running for my life…when I was about three years old…i was living in Africa…I remember seeing you…for the first and last time perhaps…I hope not…and I said to you…just do it...
I erased myself…
…and then I found myself.
And if I changed my mind…would it make any difference?
…Ok I am back now Lily….I have heard on the grapevine that you think I bought or have tickets for or on myself…do you honestly think I contrived all this because I wanted to be a superhero or something?
...Lily!!!...I was running for my life…
When the invaders of ourselves arrived here…there was virtually nothing left of their original selves…they could not move about like the natives of this planet due to the absence of plant and animal totems in their sphere of existence…the fourth dimension. I suppose they were the original zombies…at first they hunted in packs at night like wild dogs…then over time…they took on many different forms…too many to mention here. One faction went onto become technological experts. With permission from the head honcho’s…who did not know the full story…and it is only recently that I found out about it…the ‘visitors’ were given permission to abduct the natives for use in genetic experimentation…the purpose being to create a suitable ‘ka’ for themselves that could be multi-dimensional like the ones the natives had…but… for some reason the ‘ka’s’ that they created began to fold…or rather unfold.
It soon became apparent that their ka’s were unfolding because the spirit essence would not stay attached to the ka bodies…
Oh Lily…you should have been there and not in Bargaloo. You would not have been in stupefied state if you had…perhaps not? Who can tell?
The next phase of experimentation involved atomic tests at Maralinga and in the South Pacific and elsewhere, nuclear fission experiments, gene splicing, particle accelerator experiments, orgasms ect ect…I was not there for a lot of it so I can’t tell you exactly what happened…but I was there for some of the worst of it.
Now I don’t know how they did this, but they found a way to peel a person’s spirit essence off them which made it possible for them to then inhabit their ka bodies. I won’t tell you what they did next because it would give the game away… as it were… to the current influx of ‘invaders of ourselves’.
Before too long…well… a long time ago now…I sussed out their game plan and came up with a plan of my own. I discovered a way to reintegrate the parts of my selves that had ‘gone missing’ and thus was able to hold onto myself…even in the absence of my own ka body…which surprise, surprise…was also missing.
Repeated attacks on my personage necessitated the construction of a dome of light…at first it was only big enough for me…I then found a way to enlarge it to include my family (and later the world )…I could not help Pedro (at the time) or my mother and various other folk…including my father…whoever he is? They were beyond help…I am sorry to say that I gave up on them.
There were times when I felt like the only person in the world or that I had been asleep for a very long time...it was on one of those occasions I found myself alone with a blue tongue lizard…the blue tongues knew that I had a ‘thing’ for them. They knew that I just about burst into floods of tears whenever I saw one squashed on the road.
One time…I was visiting my mother…we were in her garden…when a beautiful blue tongue lizard came over the hill…or rather the raised garden bed that formed a border between my mother’s garden and the vacant area of land behind it. Immediately my mother’s dog…a West Highland Terrier by the name of Connie rushed out and began mauling it. Shaking it violently in her jaws…there was nothing we could do to save it…It happened so fast…I remember screaming in horror…then Connie dropped the lizard…it was badly mangled but still alive… I screamed and started crying and hyperventilating…I could not go to it…I could bear to see it’s suffering…my mother’s husband chopped it’s head off with a shovel to put it out of its misery…I was shaking and shaking.
Anyway…something in me died that day…something in me died the day I saw a man in a truck deliberately drive into two cockatoos flying across Kingsford Smith Drive…way too close to the ground…killing one of them…and the night…Jon Jon hit a kangaroo driving back from Jerangle…and the day a parrot flew into my car as I was driving down Bungle Lane.
I took the parrot home and buried it under my flowering apricot tree.
The story I tell today is different to the story I might have told yesterday…
Yesterday I did not know exactly what I was dealing with…it was only after the ‘white light orb’ episode of 1996…that I even made a connection between my ‘issues’ and those of the ‘aliens’…before that it was just ghosts… or hags that sit on your chest at night and suck the life out of you.
One night…several years ago…cannot remember what date exactly…I was still living in Bungle Lane. I had moved out of my husbands bed for good and basically did my best to avoid him…I had long since given up trying to converse with him in any meaningful way…I was sleeping in a room that my son Nico had slept in and he was sleeping in a room that my other son Danton had slept in and Danton was sleeping in a room that he had once shared with Nico…that would eventually become mine and then the three Indian boys and finally Danton’s again.
So…there I was just lying there…when all of a sudden…the room began to change…just like in my poem…Suzette, Suzette, Wherever you Are?
First the furniture faded out…then the walls…the ceiling…until I was just suspended in a ‘misty space’. I became dimly aware that I was lying in bed…but it could have been a ‘slab’…and that approximately twelve robed figures stood in a circle around me…I could see their faces…they were the lizard men…one of them was a white lizard and another I recognised from one of your photos of a spying hole location Lily…a gun wielding birdman no less.
You have to imagine my mindset at the time….I was sick of being intimidated and bullied and not just by own kind but this lot as well…not to mention the nocturnal visits by the bug eyed oriental lady and her insectoid companion or Victor…for that matter.
If I was to describe my mental state at the time it would be…very calm, kool and collected and pissed off…I said “I am not afraid of you”….the very site of the hooded birdman is enough to turn me into a wild cat…but not that night.
One of them, or was it all of them at once, said… “You’re not from around here are you”.
One time I saw Usurunan ….or was it the birdman or one of the lizards…perhaps an alternative self? …was in a movie about an Arab Sheik and his camel...i thought WOW…he’s really handsome compared to that other lot...i also discovered something interesting…it was the sting of an Asp that killed my brother…he did commit suicide, I am told…and… it was the poison in the sting that drove him to it.
When we were teenagers living in a Forrest in the City of Kanak…we made a suicide pact…
Lily…did you know that when you make a suicide pact with someone…even half-heartedly…it is a suicide pact nevertheless and a pact is a pact. What could we do…we were living in a nightmare…paradise for the reptilians and the retirees but not for us.
I found out that the things that happen to an atom that is split is somewhat similar to the things that happen when an egg is fertilised or a planet is…but…there is a right way and a wrong way…three guesses for which ways lead down one path or another…
I also found out that the shit hits the fan down one of these paths at 86 resolutions leaving only 14 resolutions for the children of tomorrow and that is not enough resolutions.
So Lily…do you understand…that I was running for my life…when I was about three years old…i was living in Africa…I remember seeing you…for the first and last time perhaps…I hope not…and I said to you…just do it...
I erased myself…
…and then I found myself.
And if I changed my mind…would it make any difference?
Poor Little Atom and the Cat Pet Attacks
November 5 2012
Lily have you heard about those ‘cat pet’ attacks…apparently if you have been infected by one of these ‘cat pets’…if you are a female …it makes you quite vain and meticulous about your appearance…but easier to control…and if you’re a male…it makes you quite suspicious, oblivious to danger and other people’s opinions and a very bad dresser. Can you believe it?
Lily….there is an election going on in this town…snooky bear and bristles are both competing for the same job of parade organiser for the black and white badgers ball. About half of the people in this town want snooky bear to win and the other half want bristles to win…but here’s the thing…both want the same thing…shade trees for their munchkins, enough ticket sellers for the tickets and holiday houses for the infirm. But if only one of them wins and it doesn’t matter which one…the other one will get the sack…not only that…but their other selves won’t recognise them…and the end result of all of this is that they won’t be able to even attend the badgers ball let alone organise or preside over it.
A long time ago…I hacked into Usuranan’s computer network…this was before I knew him as ‘that person’…and I found out that the badgers themselves orchestrated this debacle…to divide and conquer…as it were…as they had been divided and conquered themselves into black and white colours…where previously they had been grey?
And I started thinking…well… who is the boss of this town anyway?...the one who drew a line through the circle and broke it…or the one who is trying to fix it….and I know in both of their defences, that they both want to fix it…
So I ask my selves…why can’t they just be on the same side instead of pretending to be on the opposite side…of each other.
For example if one of them gets one more vote than the other…or one less…isn’t it a little…(or a lot)…unfair to all those munchkins whose parent guardians voted for the wrong one…when it’s their parade and their badgers out on a limb…of a tree?
Anyhoos I found out…that a boss is not really a boss in this town…and a shadow is not really a shadow...unless it’s shadowing the boss and knifing him/her/it at every turn. Not only that but the boss can never really truly preside over the parade…as he/she/it…is always trying to run away from his shadow or fix their fuckups.
When I confronted Usurunan with the shonky products and motley mutants of this devious plot and it’s con-sequences… to turn the townsfolk of this town… against eachother…so that they are always fighting instead of hugging…he denied everything…
To prove his point…he showed me moving pictures of his private zoo collection…as well as pictures of his collection of zombies…which he admitted he was having trouble controlling…
For a moment he looked like a little lost japanese boy …tears in his eyes…
“I just want to go home”…he said.
Much…much later and longer than I care to remember…I met up with Usurunan again…in Japan. He was wearing his astro boy disguise.
What happened? He told me it was Atom…Atom had been split.
Atom or Adam?...no just Atom he whispered…
Lily have you heard about those ‘cat pet’ attacks…apparently if you have been infected by one of these ‘cat pets’…if you are a female …it makes you quite vain and meticulous about your appearance…but easier to control…and if you’re a male…it makes you quite suspicious, oblivious to danger and other people’s opinions and a very bad dresser. Can you believe it?
Lily….there is an election going on in this town…snooky bear and bristles are both competing for the same job of parade organiser for the black and white badgers ball. About half of the people in this town want snooky bear to win and the other half want bristles to win…but here’s the thing…both want the same thing…shade trees for their munchkins, enough ticket sellers for the tickets and holiday houses for the infirm. But if only one of them wins and it doesn’t matter which one…the other one will get the sack…not only that…but their other selves won’t recognise them…and the end result of all of this is that they won’t be able to even attend the badgers ball let alone organise or preside over it.
A long time ago…I hacked into Usuranan’s computer network…this was before I knew him as ‘that person’…and I found out that the badgers themselves orchestrated this debacle…to divide and conquer…as it were…as they had been divided and conquered themselves into black and white colours…where previously they had been grey?
And I started thinking…well… who is the boss of this town anyway?...the one who drew a line through the circle and broke it…or the one who is trying to fix it….and I know in both of their defences, that they both want to fix it…
So I ask my selves…why can’t they just be on the same side instead of pretending to be on the opposite side…of each other.
For example if one of them gets one more vote than the other…or one less…isn’t it a little…(or a lot)…unfair to all those munchkins whose parent guardians voted for the wrong one…when it’s their parade and their badgers out on a limb…of a tree?
Anyhoos I found out…that a boss is not really a boss in this town…and a shadow is not really a shadow...unless it’s shadowing the boss and knifing him/her/it at every turn. Not only that but the boss can never really truly preside over the parade…as he/she/it…is always trying to run away from his shadow or fix their fuckups.
When I confronted Usurunan with the shonky products and motley mutants of this devious plot and it’s con-sequences… to turn the townsfolk of this town… against eachother…so that they are always fighting instead of hugging…he denied everything…
To prove his point…he showed me moving pictures of his private zoo collection…as well as pictures of his collection of zombies…which he admitted he was having trouble controlling…
For a moment he looked like a little lost japanese boy …tears in his eyes…
“I just want to go home”…he said.
Much…much later and longer than I care to remember…I met up with Usurunan again…in Japan. He was wearing his astro boy disguise.
What happened? He told me it was Atom…Atom had been split.
Atom or Adam?...no just Atom he whispered…
Thursday, November 1, 2012
More of Sandy's adventures in the Time Tunnel
Anyway re…this other memory….this house was built in the shape of a two or three story square formation with an internal courtyard….that may or may not have had a roof. It was a wooden structure with wooden railings along the balconies that looked out onto this small courtyard…which I think had plants in it. The wood was very dark in colour. The ‘bath’ room had the look and feel of a Finnish sauna…and the bath in that house consisted of a large quite deep rectangular shaped structure that was built up from floor level and out of the same dark ‘aromatic’ wood…I loved that bath and the smell of the wood, the hot steam in the winter…but what was I remembering?….that was not the house that I lived in. I don’t know where that memory comes from ... maybe Usurunan knows…who knows.
This much I know…. the girl who lived there was a much treasured child
Lily about your severely fucked up…. albeit interesting and dangerous early childhood years…..
Lily I have seen those home movies of you and the others in Africa. Each and every time I watch it …the weirder it becomes. Perhaps we can help each other find out what really happened there.
I also want to say that I don’t mean to sound flippant about your tragic life…or mine…over the many years of my in between lives…I have at times been under quite intense pressure to write my memoirs…an activity that would have elicited howls of scorn and derision from my family and most of my friends…because…as one person once said…what makes you think anyone would want to read something that you have written?.
I joined a small writers group when I was newly married…my husband was scathing about it…one day I told him I was thinking about writing a Mills and Boon romance novel…and I did have a go at it but it was not a subject that held much interest for me so I had to abandon it…because the truth being… I am not the romantic type…well Pedro my ex…actually used this throw away thought as ammunition against me…for months he would sneer about my Mills and Boon novels as if to say ‘you are a romantic fool’….which was ridiculous…at first I was surprised by it, then I began to deny it, each time more bewilderingly and vociferously than the last time and then I would find myself being backed into a corner by stupid allegations…one day I lost the plot…I think it was the first time it happened…’where are they?’ I screeched’…’where are they’ i challenged him to find even one such novel or name a time when he had actually observed me either reading or writing one…I was so hurt…you don’t know me at all…do you?... I was crying and shaking….it was true…he did not know me at all…
These kinds of altercations began to occur with more and more frequency….i was being accused of ‘slights’ against him that I could not recall…I sometimes wondered if he was having fake memories implanted in his head…which seemed outlandish at the time…but now I am not so sure……
Pedro is what a psychiatrist would call a passive aggressive…also very cunning…he had no interest in anything I had to say, he would become infuriated over the most inane things like me making him late when we were about to leave on a trip to Sydney or the coast… and time was not an issue… but would do nothing to help speed things along while I dressed the children, packed lunches, closed curtains, locked up ect while he sat their scowling.
One Christmas we went to Dee why in Sydney to visit his father…we left about half an hour after he would have liked…we arrived about 7.30 in the evening as it was…and the night was still young…he had been narky the whole way and I spent most of that trip treading on ice…finally all the hatred came pouring out about me making him late…I was flummoxed…I’m saying “but why didn’t you help”…blah blah…if he was that worried about it for goodness sake…I tried to reason with him…but it was as if he were made of stone…in the end I just became hysterical and started screaming and then crying uncontrollably …something was wrong but I didn’t know what…something was not right…it was pouring with rain…I ran out into the rain and just kept running and running… I refer to these events only because of how his attitude toward me pertains to what happened Dec 22 1996.
I could not sleep that night so I went and lay down on the couch in the living room…the curtains were wide open and my front garden and the street were visible through the floor to ceiling windows….either that night or the night before I had received about three obscene phone calls from a heavy breather wanting me to touch myself…after the third call I took the phone of the hook. I remember looking at my watch as I walked out into the living room.
It was exactly 12 midnight. I lay down on the couch. Almost immediately a very large and very bright orb of light descended from above the roof of the house. As it came into view…a beam of light came out of it and began a sweep of the room. I felt frozen by it and then at one point managed to grab hold of a selenite crystal and held it up to this light…I don’t remember what happened next…
The next day…both Danton and Nico reported strange experiences the previous night or rather early hours of that morning. Nico reported seeing and feeling a red needle go into the side of his head. Danton told me he had seen an orange glow on the lawn outside and that he had also come running out into the living room and seen me lying on the couch and that there was a terrific wind rushing through the house.
Pedro’s reaction to all of this is that we had imagined it somehow…later he concluded it was either Mark or a neighbour…Barry?...shining a flashlight through the window…later when he flatly refused to take ’our’ story ….even a little seriously ..it was because…he reasoned…’why would an alien travel all the way across the galaxy/universe just to see me’…what could I say?…
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know……you tell me!!!… Pedro and others including my mother would become vicious whenever the subject was raised…My father cut me off before I could tell him anything….but here’s the thing… not one of them was curious or prepared to consider the scenario I had described. My parents were both journalists and Pedro worked in media…weren’t they supposed to be curious…isn’t that what journalists do…ask questions?
It took a long time…but in the end their attitude just made me more and more suspicious…I began to avoid them…and somewhat fearful…who were they really? Who am i? …it seem like more and more of my so called friends, family members and acquaintances were under the spell of some kind of mass hypnotic propaganda that created a knee jerk reaction of disbelief and narrow mindedness that was becoming alarmingly more scary by the day. As the conspiracy became ever more manifest…conspiracy theories were subjected to the ridicule basket…. discarded by governments, scientists, soldiers, journalists…and the like…I have heard it described as a ‘conditioned slide response”.
News gathering became another arm of the propaganda machine…multitudinous press releases from industry groups promoting themselves, their agenda or their products would arrive in newsrooms every day and these would be sifted through and relegated to the reporters who would then follow them up with a phone interview or 30 second grab…well this was the situation when I was at the ABC….there was very little real investigation going on in those days…not since the Daily Planet days I suspect… I lost interest in pursuing a career I journalism after that.
PS….About Pedro’s attitude.… the effect on me was that I would become hysterical and I would literally have a complete nervous breakdown…I would scream and scream, not so much because I was hurt and bewildered by his nasty attitude toward me…but because I could not make sense of it…and what had I done to make him hate me so much?…how can I best describe it?…extreme nervous collapse and hopeless despair …why did he look down on me and why did he and everyone else react with scorn and disbelief when I told them about what happened to me and the children…and possibly himself as well…on that fateful night….or about anything at all…in the end I literally could not speak…I would be cut off shouted down or this bullshit…
“we are all so worried about you Sandy…we think you might have bipolar disorder or schizophrenia….after all it does run in your family”….
Anyhoos…after that I just got this sick feeling every time I even thought about writing. I wrote some poems over a period of about a year and never wrote another after that. I gave a book of my poems to my father…but he did not read them…I tried to recite my best poem to my mum on a number of occasions but she would become infuriated with me…I decided to give up on this idea of being a writer…but then later…after a period of intense engagement with off world entities…I started posting my stories on a website called Waking World…where for the most part they were well received…That site closed down after a while and a few years later I found another one…it had been set up by someone I had met at the university here…who wanted to explore the UFO phenomena…in the light of a ‘flying object’ that had been witnessed by a number of school children in Melbourne…I desperately needed feedback on my own situation…I needed Help! and I thought I would find it there…but no…very quickly I was ostracized by the other members of the discussion forum…and basically laughed at…I never went back.
I have never had any desire to publicise my experiences…out of sheer embarrassment more than anything else. I have not spoken of these things for a long time and I don’t like talking about it…the laughter and the sneering and patronising attitude still ring in my ears… my mother talking down to me as if I was some idiot child…the cold hard set of her mouth, the dark glint of evil in her eyes…the horror……in the end I just get angry and upset and more determined than ever to just walk out of all their lives…forever…and I am not being grandiose when I say that….actually that is what I did.
Lily when I decided to resume our old pen pal relationship…I wanted to tell your story and mine…but it was sooo depressing….seriously the only way I can write this story is by taking myself out of it…in a way…and making light of it…after a time you can look back and when there is enough distance there…it is possible to find a funny side… but I had to look for it…not just for my own sanity…and I have asked myself many times am I going insane?...but then I remember…and I know that I did not imagine the things that happened to me…the heart knows what the heart knows.
Ok I will start with my earliest memory…in Africa.
I was a baby when I arrived in Africa…on a ship from England. I was about six months old. There is a picture of me on that ship. I am sitting in a pale yellow pram holding a cup wearing only a nappy as it was very hot. I am looking at a reflection of myself in what appears to be a full length mirror in a doorway. Behind me in the mirror, my mother is leaning over me. She is smiling and I am laughing. In the background of this picture is another person but their image is blurred. I sort of remember that.
My next most vivid memories include. I am in the upstairs bedroom of the house where we lived in Kenya…I am approximately three years old. I share the room with my little brother. Sometime during the night…I woke up…a monkey came in through the windows of my bedroom and stole the clothes that were at the end of bed…the monkey appeared to be on a rope or a lead and it slipped through the bars on the window. The next thing I remember is being in my parents room down the hallway…I am transfixed by the sight of a zebra standing very still and perfectly framed in the window. The curtains are open…as they were in my bedroom…
My next memories are of Afura…a little Kenyan boy the same age as me who was related to my ‘nanny’ Christina…either as a son, grandson or nephew…she was quite old and fat…too old to be his mother…I am not sure…I remember once Afura having a fall and cutting his head open…I was quite upset and horrified…I had never seen anything that shocking before and it sort of freaked me out…another time I remember walking along a wall dividing two parts of a the building….that was my house?...I lived in a house in India that was portioned off in that way….that was the year 1962…I believe.
There were times when it seemed as if there was just Christina, my brother and myself….on a beach in Mombassa or just sitting on a hill somewhere in the African Wilderness…something must have happened to Afura…he wasn’t with us at those times.
One time a monkey came into the garden and my brother and the monkey made a beeline for one another…they just hugged and hugged…I have a photo of it….
To be continued Lillian…. It is twenty to seven in the morning and I have been up all night…
This much I know…. the girl who lived there was a much treasured child
Lily about your severely fucked up…. albeit interesting and dangerous early childhood years…..
Lily I have seen those home movies of you and the others in Africa. Each and every time I watch it …the weirder it becomes. Perhaps we can help each other find out what really happened there.
I also want to say that I don’t mean to sound flippant about your tragic life…or mine…over the many years of my in between lives…I have at times been under quite intense pressure to write my memoirs…an activity that would have elicited howls of scorn and derision from my family and most of my friends…because…as one person once said…what makes you think anyone would want to read something that you have written?.
I joined a small writers group when I was newly married…my husband was scathing about it…one day I told him I was thinking about writing a Mills and Boon romance novel…and I did have a go at it but it was not a subject that held much interest for me so I had to abandon it…because the truth being… I am not the romantic type…well Pedro my ex…actually used this throw away thought as ammunition against me…for months he would sneer about my Mills and Boon novels as if to say ‘you are a romantic fool’….which was ridiculous…at first I was surprised by it, then I began to deny it, each time more bewilderingly and vociferously than the last time and then I would find myself being backed into a corner by stupid allegations…one day I lost the plot…I think it was the first time it happened…’where are they?’ I screeched’…’where are they’ i challenged him to find even one such novel or name a time when he had actually observed me either reading or writing one…I was so hurt…you don’t know me at all…do you?... I was crying and shaking….it was true…he did not know me at all…
These kinds of altercations began to occur with more and more frequency….i was being accused of ‘slights’ against him that I could not recall…I sometimes wondered if he was having fake memories implanted in his head…which seemed outlandish at the time…but now I am not so sure……
Pedro is what a psychiatrist would call a passive aggressive…also very cunning…he had no interest in anything I had to say, he would become infuriated over the most inane things like me making him late when we were about to leave on a trip to Sydney or the coast… and time was not an issue… but would do nothing to help speed things along while I dressed the children, packed lunches, closed curtains, locked up ect while he sat their scowling.
One Christmas we went to Dee why in Sydney to visit his father…we left about half an hour after he would have liked…we arrived about 7.30 in the evening as it was…and the night was still young…he had been narky the whole way and I spent most of that trip treading on ice…finally all the hatred came pouring out about me making him late…I was flummoxed…I’m saying “but why didn’t you help”…blah blah…if he was that worried about it for goodness sake…I tried to reason with him…but it was as if he were made of stone…in the end I just became hysterical and started screaming and then crying uncontrollably …something was wrong but I didn’t know what…something was not right…it was pouring with rain…I ran out into the rain and just kept running and running… I refer to these events only because of how his attitude toward me pertains to what happened Dec 22 1996.
I could not sleep that night so I went and lay down on the couch in the living room…the curtains were wide open and my front garden and the street were visible through the floor to ceiling windows….either that night or the night before I had received about three obscene phone calls from a heavy breather wanting me to touch myself…after the third call I took the phone of the hook. I remember looking at my watch as I walked out into the living room.
It was exactly 12 midnight. I lay down on the couch. Almost immediately a very large and very bright orb of light descended from above the roof of the house. As it came into view…a beam of light came out of it and began a sweep of the room. I felt frozen by it and then at one point managed to grab hold of a selenite crystal and held it up to this light…I don’t remember what happened next…
The next day…both Danton and Nico reported strange experiences the previous night or rather early hours of that morning. Nico reported seeing and feeling a red needle go into the side of his head. Danton told me he had seen an orange glow on the lawn outside and that he had also come running out into the living room and seen me lying on the couch and that there was a terrific wind rushing through the house.
Pedro’s reaction to all of this is that we had imagined it somehow…later he concluded it was either Mark or a neighbour…Barry?...shining a flashlight through the window…later when he flatly refused to take ’our’ story ….even a little seriously ..it was because…he reasoned…’why would an alien travel all the way across the galaxy/universe just to see me’…what could I say?…
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know……you tell me!!!… Pedro and others including my mother would become vicious whenever the subject was raised…My father cut me off before I could tell him anything….but here’s the thing… not one of them was curious or prepared to consider the scenario I had described. My parents were both journalists and Pedro worked in media…weren’t they supposed to be curious…isn’t that what journalists do…ask questions?
It took a long time…but in the end their attitude just made me more and more suspicious…I began to avoid them…and somewhat fearful…who were they really? Who am i? …it seem like more and more of my so called friends, family members and acquaintances were under the spell of some kind of mass hypnotic propaganda that created a knee jerk reaction of disbelief and narrow mindedness that was becoming alarmingly more scary by the day. As the conspiracy became ever more manifest…conspiracy theories were subjected to the ridicule basket…. discarded by governments, scientists, soldiers, journalists…and the like…I have heard it described as a ‘conditioned slide response”.
News gathering became another arm of the propaganda machine…multitudinous press releases from industry groups promoting themselves, their agenda or their products would arrive in newsrooms every day and these would be sifted through and relegated to the reporters who would then follow them up with a phone interview or 30 second grab…well this was the situation when I was at the ABC….there was very little real investigation going on in those days…not since the Daily Planet days I suspect… I lost interest in pursuing a career I journalism after that.
PS….About Pedro’s attitude.… the effect on me was that I would become hysterical and I would literally have a complete nervous breakdown…I would scream and scream, not so much because I was hurt and bewildered by his nasty attitude toward me…but because I could not make sense of it…and what had I done to make him hate me so much?…how can I best describe it?…extreme nervous collapse and hopeless despair …why did he look down on me and why did he and everyone else react with scorn and disbelief when I told them about what happened to me and the children…and possibly himself as well…on that fateful night….or about anything at all…in the end I literally could not speak…I would be cut off shouted down or this bullshit…
“we are all so worried about you Sandy…we think you might have bipolar disorder or schizophrenia….after all it does run in your family”….
Anyhoos…after that I just got this sick feeling every time I even thought about writing. I wrote some poems over a period of about a year and never wrote another after that. I gave a book of my poems to my father…but he did not read them…I tried to recite my best poem to my mum on a number of occasions but she would become infuriated with me…I decided to give up on this idea of being a writer…but then later…after a period of intense engagement with off world entities…I started posting my stories on a website called Waking World…where for the most part they were well received…That site closed down after a while and a few years later I found another one…it had been set up by someone I had met at the university here…who wanted to explore the UFO phenomena…in the light of a ‘flying object’ that had been witnessed by a number of school children in Melbourne…I desperately needed feedback on my own situation…I needed Help! and I thought I would find it there…but no…very quickly I was ostracized by the other members of the discussion forum…and basically laughed at…I never went back.
I have never had any desire to publicise my experiences…out of sheer embarrassment more than anything else. I have not spoken of these things for a long time and I don’t like talking about it…the laughter and the sneering and patronising attitude still ring in my ears… my mother talking down to me as if I was some idiot child…the cold hard set of her mouth, the dark glint of evil in her eyes…the horror……in the end I just get angry and upset and more determined than ever to just walk out of all their lives…forever…and I am not being grandiose when I say that….actually that is what I did.
Lily when I decided to resume our old pen pal relationship…I wanted to tell your story and mine…but it was sooo depressing….seriously the only way I can write this story is by taking myself out of it…in a way…and making light of it…after a time you can look back and when there is enough distance there…it is possible to find a funny side… but I had to look for it…not just for my own sanity…and I have asked myself many times am I going insane?...but then I remember…and I know that I did not imagine the things that happened to me…the heart knows what the heart knows.
Ok I will start with my earliest memory…in Africa.
I was a baby when I arrived in Africa…on a ship from England. I was about six months old. There is a picture of me on that ship. I am sitting in a pale yellow pram holding a cup wearing only a nappy as it was very hot. I am looking at a reflection of myself in what appears to be a full length mirror in a doorway. Behind me in the mirror, my mother is leaning over me. She is smiling and I am laughing. In the background of this picture is another person but their image is blurred. I sort of remember that.
My next most vivid memories include. I am in the upstairs bedroom of the house where we lived in Kenya…I am approximately three years old. I share the room with my little brother. Sometime during the night…I woke up…a monkey came in through the windows of my bedroom and stole the clothes that were at the end of bed…the monkey appeared to be on a rope or a lead and it slipped through the bars on the window. The next thing I remember is being in my parents room down the hallway…I am transfixed by the sight of a zebra standing very still and perfectly framed in the window. The curtains are open…as they were in my bedroom…
My next memories are of Afura…a little Kenyan boy the same age as me who was related to my ‘nanny’ Christina…either as a son, grandson or nephew…she was quite old and fat…too old to be his mother…I am not sure…I remember once Afura having a fall and cutting his head open…I was quite upset and horrified…I had never seen anything that shocking before and it sort of freaked me out…another time I remember walking along a wall dividing two parts of a the building….that was my house?...I lived in a house in India that was portioned off in that way….that was the year 1962…I believe.
There were times when it seemed as if there was just Christina, my brother and myself….on a beach in Mombassa or just sitting on a hill somewhere in the African Wilderness…something must have happened to Afura…he wasn’t with us at those times.
One time a monkey came into the garden and my brother and the monkey made a beeline for one another…they just hugged and hugged…I have a photo of it….
To be continued Lillian…. It is twenty to seven in the morning and I have been up all night…
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
The Adventures of Sandy Parker
October 12…20/10/2012
Dearest Lillian, my spying activities continue unabated as has my discovery that you are a detection agent yourself and that you could be an enemy as well as a friend.
Am I at present residing in the city of Kanak. To my surprise Danton showed up here a few days ago. He and Sabrina, a sabre tooth black cat, who also resides here from time to time, have twice missed each other by a whisker. I asked him about Nico, my other lost boy, and he said he saw him standing in a field between here and Bargaloo…just standing there…he’d been gone for days Lillian.
I also discovered something else…there was an invasion of body snatchers…apparently… after that horrendous smash up in Sandy Parker’s car…the lost boys formed a new gang…car stealing…or should I say ka infestation...then Danton’s car was smashed up on the Baton Highway… along was his Ka. Imagine two cars…one burn’t black…the other…faceless….no wonder they were not recognised by the head of the head honchos…but I am digressing…
Extracts from Sandy Parker’s Pilgrimage… April 27…2010
Saw my very first bird…@part from Sparrow…I think it was a Stork. The next day…leaving Ventosa enroute to Najerra. There were chemtrails in the sky…sometime later Rob and I stopped at a small grove where I left rock and crystal offerings. The energy there was beautiful. We stayed there awhile. It was Rob’s idea to swap medications…I gave him two dex and I had a respidal. High in the sky three black birds of prey circled.
Leaving that place, we found ourselves in the district of La Rioja… a region of space dominated by grapevines, some quite ugly modern townships and miles of red earth….it was in this district that we came upon the lizards lair…a big pile of boulders only partially obscuring the entrance to an underground cave system…it was situated at the edge of an area of land that had been cleared of grapevines…I noticed a huge pile of dried grey matter on flat rock near the entrance to the cave…it had a peculiar smell…like shit but not like it…it was an alien smell Lily…
The rest of the day and that night and the following day were a nightmare I would rather forget. The respidal kicked in making me feel leaden…it became harder and harder to walk…we were headed for Navarette…I manage to stumble my way, supported by Rob to the outskirts of the city where I collapsed under a tree…Lily I honestly did not think I would make it…Rob had to half drag, half carry me to the Albergue. Upon our arrival at the Albergue De Peregrinos …Rob and I dutifully presented our credencials to the ‘Master of the House’’. Oh Lily I got such bad vibes from him…it was like he hated me on site…Rob told me it was because he could see that I was not a real Catholic.
I tell you Lily that was the first and last time during this pilgrimage where I had experienced prejudice on the basis of me not being of the Catholic Religion. It seemed absurd. I had met many pilgrims on this journey and they were not all Catholic??? Anyway over dinner that night a frightening change came over Rob. I kept on asking what’s wrong? what wrong? I was flummoxed! Later by the river…a torrent of verbal abuse and false allegations…the likes of which I would rather not repeat….Lily..it was as if he had become possessed by the devil himself. I was traumatised by it. Not only that but all the other pilgrims would have heard it. Returning to the dorm that night...all was quiet…I stayed awake plotting my escape…
The next day I told Rob that I no longer wanted to continue the pilgrimage with him and that I would be leaving as soon as I could arrange it…ie at the next major township…for the next three days we walked in virtual silence….and then I though fuck it…why should I let him spoil this pilgrimage for me…I was determined to continue with or without him….
On April 28 I wrote in my diary…that I had seen the hill where Roland slew the giant…but I don’t remember that
…the place Najerra…about rock collecting…I started collecting rocks soon after leaving Ronscevalles…initially the plan was to collect approximately 25 grey triangular or squarish rocks to make a set of rune stones…so because I was constantly on the lookout for rocks that would be suitable for rune stones…I started noticing all the other rocks along the way.
Leaving Najerra I noticed 2 alien rocks….one resembling the face of a white lizard type of alien and the other a grey, predator type of alien… I carried them for a while…but by this time I had collected so many rocks…they became to heavy to carry…so I had to get rid of a lot of them…some I sent back to Australia in Puenta la Reina…
That day we stopped at a weird place that had these funny looking cement chairs ( shaped somewhat like deck chairs)…in front of each chair was a square arrangement filled with pebbles…too weird…you could not sit on them in any kind of comfortable way…they obviously had some function but what?...it was hard to tell…could they have been used for washing feet or maybe beheadings perhaps…the surroundings landscape was bleak and without shelter…presently a young German fellow turns up…I cannot remember his name, unfortunately, but I do remember that it wasn’t Wolfgang…and I met more than one German by that name. We walked aways together but Rob had to stop to put more bandaids on his blisters and he went on ahead.
I had written in my diary…on that day…to refer to San Domingo…in the book…’The Way of St James’ by Alison Raju.
Santo Domingo de la Calzada
Santo Domingo was a shepherd, he wanted to enter the monastery of San Milan de la Cogilla but was refused admission because he was illiterate. He then built a hermitage and a chapel in a forest in a notoriously bandit infested stretch of the Camino between Logrono and Burgos. He also built a hospital so that he could look after sick pilgrims. He was buried in the cathedral of San Salvador which today houses a cock and a hen high up inside the building. One night a a family of three pilgrims stayed at an inn in the town. The innkeepers’ daughter made sexual advances toward the son which were rejected…in revenge she placed a bag of money in his pack and then alerted her inn keeper father who set of after them. The son was brought before a judge who condemned him to death. His parents continued the journey without him, but his mother was not convinced he was dead…so she went back to the spot where he had been executed and found him alive but still hanging. They then went to the judge to ask for him to be released. He declared that the boy was no more likely to be alive than were the cock and the hen on his table able to fly – which they immediately did.
At a place called Alto de San Antoin…the site of the ruins of a convent and a hospital I noticed a black eyed man staring at me…that was the day I took Ben’s medication and just about fainted. I wanted to run away from that place as fast as my useless legs would carry me…everything about it was evil and dark and spooky…really bad timing on my part re the medication situation.
I have already spoken of the two alien rocks I had found earlier….well I also found one that looked like a human skull. That day I met up with Nancy from Canada, she was curious about why I was collecting all these rocks. I told her that wanted to make rune stones out of them. We arrived in a place called Cirinuela, a curiously ultra modern township but strangely deserted…endless rows of modern apartments buildings with expensive modern cars parked outside…it was an anomaly in this land of ancient ruins and medieval villages….there was a huge play area for children in the centre of it but no children anywhere to be seen…the only person I saw was a man on a lawnmower…no one else
April 29….Arriving in San Domingo de la Calzada, we stopped at an inn. The television blaring. I mean no offence when I say this but Spanish people have a way of talking that sounds like machine gun fire…sometimes…apparently there had been a situation regarding a whale that had been washed ashore and had to be sawn in half…I felt sick. Rob and I were barely on speaking terms by this stage…following the horrific verbal assault in Najerra…
Some time later….
The refugio in Belarado, was like a marble palace. It was on three levels… in square formation that looked down onto a spacious interior courtyard. I should mention something about refugious…the come in all varieties, humble, grand, ancient, modern, family run, convent run, sports halls, monasteries, extensions on people’s house…without very little exception the rooms were all dormitory style, some housing hundreds of bunks beds, others a few mattresses on the floor. Some had restuarants or dining areas attached, some didn’t. Where there were no dining facilities pilgrims would be directed to a local eatery specifically catering to pilgrims. The dinner menu always included a bottle of red wine, on the house and a three course meal…these were not fancy at all I can tell you…usually there was bread, tinned spaghetti, macaroni, or soup, something like spag bolognaise or stew, sometimes fish, desert would be stewed fruit, or rice pudding or something like that…it usually cost between 8 and 11 euro’s, accommodation in the refugio’s …about five.
There was a very weird occurrence in the refugio…a really creepy guy decided to wash a very large bag of grapes in the sink in the women’s Bathroom…typical dorm style situation with cubicles of showers and toilets…the refugio was packed that night with pilgrims…anyhoos after my shower I noticed a Mexican style of man …resembling somewhat an evil carpenter that I had had an association with the year before…I said “can’t you seen that this is the women’s toilets”…he pretended not to understand me…so I pointed at the sign on the door depicting…as was the Spanish way…a senorita in Latin dress…at which point he became very stroppy… all the while washing each grape, it would seem by hand, and throwing it back into the sink… with some force.
I was feeling a bit despondent about things that night, wandering if I could go on when I met up with Nancy again…I told her about the man and the grapes….i also told her of my woes…. and what do you think I should do? …she said…just remember that you are free to leave at any time….. Apart from anything else…I was really upset with rob because his jealousy and possessiveness made it difficult for me to interact with the other pilgrims in a way where I could be free to be myself….but as it was I was having to shun contact with the others just to keep the peace….i felt cheated about that…also the presence of so many old German men was really bothering me…they were rude and arrogant and I had a number of flare ups with them about that….more on that later…I asked Nancy about the trail ahead….the mesetta, the notoriously bleak stretch ahead, between Logrono and Leon…. known as the mental plain…quite a few pilgrims…I was to learn, bypassed this section entirely…by catching a bus between the two cities.
There are three parts to the Camino, the physical, the mental and the spiritual each of which correspond to the three areas which the Camino traverses…is that the right word for it? The first part is quite gentle, both in terms of landscape, degree of difficulty and frequency of vibration. The first two weeks…which covers the foothills of the Pyrenees (if you start at Roncesvalles…which I did), La Rioja…the wine growing district and winding up in Najera…so named as the place of two rocks. From there the track winds its way between high cliffs. This part of the walk is physical in nature…the pilgrim finds his/her walking legs in a pleasant surroundings…woodlands, farms and quaint medieval villages.
The second or middle past is the most gruelling part and from my memory of it….this part begins in the city of Burgos and covers the high northern plateau of Spain. The weather, I have heard is either burning hot, dry and dusty, bitterly cold and windy or it rains constantly. For Rob and myself…leaving Burgos…it was rain and wind…the landscape is harsh and bleak, largely devoid of trees, and the villages are few and far between. My memories of it include, highways, industrial landscapes, ruins, dull little townships that have none of the charm and mystery of those I had passed through in the weeks before…or wide open spaces of nothingness and grey skies.
The third part of the pilgrimage is spiritual. Having honed his/her body to a state of supreme physical fitness and endured the mental challenges that surface on the mesetta, the pilgrim enters into the Galica region with it’s backdrop of snow capped mountains, ancient woods, rivers and forests and villages that have not changed in a thousand years…
25 minutes to One in the morning. October 31…Halloween Day
Usurunan wants to know about my childhood experiences. I don’t know what to say…I don’t like to talk about them Lily.
I was going to tell you about my experience in the monastery at San Juan De Ortega and the stars that night…also about finding rocks in the shapes of human skulls and maps of Australia in the borderlands of Burgos…where we got lost…also I didn’t tell you about getting lost after Logrono or the murderous Moroccans or the night I saw my first orbs in a sports hall in the village of Hornillos del Caminos and the three black witches and the fact that despite not seeing a single soul on the trail that entire windswept rain drenched first day on the mesetta, the refugio at Hornillos was full-up with old ladies…about Patrice and the loss of her walking stick , how we didn’t get to eat any dinner that night and we were starving…. or the goat men and other things….Usurunan says I can get back to that later.
You know what? You probably remember them better than me. Why don’t you tell him? He also wants to know about my supposed alien abductions and also about my dimensional travels. Well you know that the mere mention of anything unusual happening in the lives of ordinary folk such as myself...can only ever mean one thing, incarceration in a Prison for the Elderly, infirm and Mentally unhinged and or Deranged. PEiMD for short.
Also some of the people who work for Usurunan and some of the people who don’t, have decided to gang up on me because I have not been ‘’pulling my weight’’. Well I would say to them…I am now an infirm and cannot do much except watch TV all day…because of a number of issues that include elephantitus of the legs, man boobs and a brain that is not connected to my body…I know this because I went to see the chiropractor about it….he said that…that could have happened because of emotional trauma….and it is true Lily…it happened after Rob and I had returned from our trip up North. He was in a state of complete derangement when we got home. We then went to stay at a beach house in Culburra, near Nowra on the South Coast. It was a sad time for us and harrowing for me….a baby whale was born an orphan and then died …among other things. Rob started on again about my supposed licentious behaviour with hordes of men…just the fact that we had been together 24 hours a day for months on end and that he would know about it… if what he was saying was true…was not enough to convince him of my innocence…this time it was an accusation involving astral sex…meanwhile he’s pressuring me to perform sexual acts with him that I don’t want to partake in… and by the way… I was at that stage sick of all his sex talk and the porn and I got to thinking how much maligned women are in this regard…and I am only half a woman myself…I had my own issues with the female of the species as it was...but here I was siding with them.
The religious orders and many of the financial establishmentarians and geriantrians had put out this rumour that women or rather females were sexually responsible for all licentiousness in matters of the heart because of their work in the brothels and in the porn industry and their general fawning demeanour towards the goat men. Sure some of them were taking them on rides, others… macropods and quite a few other life forms were totally bewildered and or tortured. Once such female caused shockwaves to reverberate in my little corner of the galaxy where such a thing as a human man and a human woman together in one place is impossibility…so you can appreciate my dilemma…
This female by the name of Linda Lovelace was able to completely swallow an entire man’s penis into her throat…she was so famous the world over that men began to have fantasies about it…what they did not see, could not see…was that Linda Lovelace was not a human female in the sense of one…that you might recognise today…people only see what they know…in the in between state, people do not have real physicality, it is the observer who puts a shape to a genetic imprint that they perceive with other senses and different types of eyes and eye colours…and this is due to primary cell perception. So they only see… what the genetic imprint that they are sensing…the entity as it were….looked like in a life that they had once shared with this life form…because that is the only frame of reference they have for that entity….even though they might be a million years apart in space and time. The more life forms you encounter…that are not part of your usual ambit…. the more times you fold space….
Linda Lovelace…and I saw this in a vision…was a type of humanoid with a tubular type trunk that had adapted or become co dependent on…a species with a long snake like protuberance out of which female genitals emerge from a knob on the top….a legacy of ancient and barbaric circumcision rites on an island in the black sea. Not my imagination Lily. Your imagination OK.
When I realised what the head honcho’s were up to with their financial manipulations…before…not so much now OK….along with other dubious rules and methods of medical diagnosis and treatment…I did wonder Lily… I truly did…
I don’t know who or what they are exactly…or where they come from or how they got here….but I know for a fact that the contrivance of third world debt and third world poverty is as much about men’s out of control perverted sexual appetites as it is about money. Third world debt equals cheap prostitutes for rich foreign men.
So the lost boys return and what do they find… elephants, eggheads and a prostitute on every corner of every red light district that you could think off….there were sightings too…of the mysterious and elusive yeti…. on Rusty Jo’s hobby farm… of all tragically ridiculous locations!
I have seen the devastating consequences of this tragic perversion of evolution with my own eyes….within one generation….the overall health, fertility and general wellbeing of that conquered country goes into complete decline…Usuranan told me the same thing happens in reverse…when reptilian females become the dominant consciousness they take out the young men and boys…including two of my boys
So you can see Lily… I have at times been furious with reptilian females for their disgusting carnivorous habits and predatory ways…I have also been furious with the male of the species…(the most recent incarnation of their form was a disaster)…as I was saying …I was furious with the head honcho guys and the other boofhead hominid varieties …religious self justifcators included….for taking advantage of females in their youth and totally debasing and destroying their dignity and potential by turning them into sex slaves and later farm animals…just to satisfy their warped lusts….and then saying to the Prime Manager’s Envoy….often the girl’s father or brother who may or may not have introduced the porn movies to their sons in the first place (when they were too young to know the difference between good and evil)….look what a dirty horrible slut your daughter/sister/mother is…
…this is the environment I found myself in during the last days of my time line. It was not always like this…what changed….i don’t know….in this other timeline…I saw a lot of porn magazines for sale… and a lot of semi retarded, mummified and stupefied and/or robotic females around and a lot of females who I would classify as ‘old blokes with no dicks’….and brothels full of Asian women…to be replaced later by transexuals posing as females or young girls from places like Russia or the Ukraine or the Baltic States….it struck me that these men, these purveyors of porn and taboo sexual acts were like a plague of locusts, using up and degrading the females and children…. of the countries they conquered, throwing them on the scrap heap along with the children and grandchildren they never had…and moving on to the next ‘poor underdeveloped country’.
The end result of all of this…and I know this….because I saw it happen….one day the last baby to be conceived in the natural way by two people of the opposite sex (and in love at the moment of conception) was born…and died…and that was the end….i just don’t know exactly when it happened.
Usurunan and myself have been a loggerheads about this….at one point…he simply could not get it into his head that the females of your planet lily….had a soul or even a right to exist in the universe at all because as he put it ..he created them out of faulty genetic material that had been soaked in formaldehyde or something like it…and it was a mistake and therefore he was justified in getting rid of them in deference to the cyborg soldiers he had invented….and then I realised Lily…he was demented. No!!! Usurunan did not create females out of clay or preserved body parts and cloned males or by castrating boys at birth and giving them hormones so he could pass them off as prostitutes to unsuspecting older males. Sure he created female clones and replicants using as his template a barbie doll that had once belonged to his daughter…. and which bore no resemblance to the original art forms that once decorated the jungles and stone ruins in those jungles.
But here I am digressing again…because Usurunan wants me to talk about my early childhood experiences and I am writing about everything and anything but that.
Re the the instructions for building spaceships that can fold space and hence travel through time using a mechanism known as primary cell perception. I cannot tell you exactly what materials I used or when or where in case the information falls into the wrong hands. They built their space travel, time machine type of ship out of constructions plans that I myself had invented…not that I take all the credit for it…more on that later…
Lily this is not some wild outlandish theory on my part…I remember hearing about primary cell perception when I was studying at the university here…also I did not invent unobtanium. In the time line that I came from…in my most recent past on your planet…that information was freely available on the net. All I did was put two and two together…the random aspect to it involving spilt blood…my own as it happens…. as a result of accident with broken glass vase…and some baby teeth but whose?...Danton’s or Nico’s…I don’t know….it was a spur of the moment thing… to add the teeth.
The way I see it…as regards ‘impartial observer agent’ studying the modus operandi of the various players in this ‘galaxy plus entertainment parade’ is that the lost boys or rather…weirdo coneheads….. left their children in the care of some very dubious nanny caretakers…they then used information I had provided to Usurunan ( only they used cloned materials) and vice versa to build themselves a space travel ship and basically go off and explore the universe ect ect…which they did with limited success.
Upon their arrival back on planet earth…they were shocked…not only that they were disgraced to find themselves in the hot seat as a consequences of the events that were soon to transpire….not only that!!! they were shocked by their own appearances.
I have had to reassure Usurunan several times now…usually as a con sequence of his ….dare I say it…inane delusions of grandeur….the first time it happens is such a shock…well more so for Usurunan than myself…imagine this…from Usurunan’s perspective….he returns from his trip to another planet on the other side of this galaxy. He will be hailed as a hero and he can hardly wait…while the circumstances of his life are still very mysterious, not only to himself, but to everyone else as well!...he is nevertheless feeling very confident being schooled as it were in the Fine Art of Dictatorhood. He is so handsome…he has sequested a ‘ka’ (much to the dismay of it’s owner) for the day’s proclamations and celebrations ect, ect….the whole city thinks he’s a superhero…just as he is about to step up to his podium to accept all his awards and prizes, accolades ect, ect………in another part of town, his great grandmother, slender and stylish, her short dark curls look sweet with her eyes made up like that…she is wearing 1930’3 style of dress, fitted little jacket and pencil thin knee high skirt, black pumps, a pillbox hat, matching gloves and hat and cute clutch bag to match…
She becomes distracted while crossing the street to the post office…she was on her way to post a Valentines Day Card to her new boyfriend, Pierre…an Aviator from Paris….just as she is about to reach the curb…. a dual carriage, red coloured, semi trailer , travelling at great speeding appears out of nowhere and slams into her spreading blood and gore all over the road….just like those dead kangaroos you used to see on your way to work every morning Lily.
Not that Usurunan knows about any of this…later much later he is in his apartment back in his home city, no one comes to visit him, no one rings him, his family don’t want to know him, he gets harassed by government agents and at one point ends up homeless…then he discovers that there is no record that he ever existed at all…then he realises he is alone. Then he understands that he is not….really alone. Do you remember Usurunan?...that’s when you became a bird of prey gang member. You wrote a manifesto which was considered to be dangerous and subversive even in the underworld. It was called “How and in What Manner I decided to Become a Member of the most Secret Detection Lair and Spying Base the World has EVEr Wondered About”. You reasoned that it would suffice as a worthwhile distraction from your persistent vegetative state. Do you remember how everyone laughed because the title did not fit onto the cover in the big bold letters that you wanted. Some of the reptilians were so alarmed they changed their colours.
Or how about this one Usurunan…you have just been elected as the most noble religious person in your village and as a reward you get to live in the castle at the top of the hill and keep all the gold…but just as you are about to accept this honour, a duplicate of yourself is exposed as the worst criminal and purveyor of porn the world has ever known…as a punishment you are forced to live in exile, while Linda Lovelace and an assortment of other dubious characters are given diplomatic postings to Saudi Arabia and other places like that.
Or this one Usurunan…you are going to be a movie star who becomes a model for Greek Plays and other dramas…your leadings ladies are the sexiest ladies you know…pictures of your beautiful face are splashed all across billboards in many far flung regions of the world. You are due to start work on a Wednesday…on the Tuesday, whilst attending to your grooming requirements you notice that the face looking back at you is not your own and that the body you are in is not yours…a large heavy set woman…(could just as easily be a chubby, non descript middle aged man as well ) with chunky thighs and a huge bottom and a bedraggled look about her is staring back at you….you’ve seen her before and you know that’s where you’ll be for another seven years. You have a vague impressions of being hooked up to an intravenous tube down which a thick milky type of porridge formula is being injected into you veins….stomach…it seems like you are lying for months in a vegetative comatose state. When the limo driver arrives the next morning to take you to the studio…your gone…back to Bargaloo and the sheep paddocks and the flies…or this one…your ka gets smashed up in freak accident on Bargaloo Highway…there are no survivors.
Get over it Usurunan…sometimes it can happen twice in the same day…for me my the most extreme example of a fall from Grace was from Isis to nuclear waste and blue green algae…life goes on and on….and on…
I saw you once…Usurunan…on the television… you had very white skin and the skin on your face was stretched tight across it giving your eyes a very slanted appearance…your companion looked like a kind of large oafish hairless orang-utan….and I mean no offence by that…I was a very young child at the time…
If it’s any consolation and I truly understand your yearning for the land of your memories….i too walked those same streets long after you had gone….i lived in a suburb called Azabu…in Tokyo…before Japan was colonised by western influences and modernisers. So we lived in a grand old fashioned Japanese Mansion with a beautiful traditional Japanese Garden inside a walled garden on a very large corner block in a quiet suburb of Tokyo… as it was in 1966 – 68. I mention this phase because it coincides with another memory I have of a house in Japan…this other house was in a quiet little street…the kind not built for cars….lanterns hung from windows and doorways casting a sultry orange glow to the tiny little streets shops and houses jumbled up together…selling all sorts of things from herbs and apothecary items medicines, ornaments, cupie dolls, food, baked goods, sweets…a type of wagon wheel called a choco pook. In those days Japanese women still wore Kimono’s as an item of daily wear…not all of them…but a lot.
I remember in the winter walking in predawn hours to catch the bus to the American School…somewhere on the outskirts of the city…and arriving home after dark…those were magical times sometimes..in hinsight…. and I almost always had my little brother for company. In the winter…we would sometimes buy baked sweet potatoes from a street vendor…or chestnuts…
There was a school around the corner from my house…the Nischi Machi school (spell?)…both my brother and I went to the school in the beginning. We were both subsequently expelled from it and I honestly cannot be bothered getting into that right now but needless to say it was an unfortunate occurrence.
Anyway re…this other memory….this house was build like a square with an internal courtyard….that may or may not have had a roof. It was a wooden structure with wooden railings along the balconies that looked out onto this small courtyard…which I think had plants in it. The wood was very dark in colour. The ‘bath’ room had the look and feel of a Finnish sauna…and the bath in that house consisted of a large quite deep rectangular shaped structure that was built up from floor level and out of the same dark ‘aromatic’ wood…I loved that bath and the smell of the wood, the hot steam in the winter…but what was I remembering?….that was not the house that I lived in. I don’t know where that memory comes from ..maybe Usurunan knows…who knows.
This much I know…. the girl who lived there was a much treasured child
Lily about your severly fucked up…. albeit exciting and dangerous early childhood years…..
Lily I have seen those home movies of you and the others in Africa. Each and every time I watch it …the weirder it becomes.
Dearest Lillian, my spying activities continue unabated as has my discovery that you are a detection agent yourself and that you could be an enemy as well as a friend.
Am I at present residing in the city of Kanak. To my surprise Danton showed up here a few days ago. He and Sabrina, a sabre tooth black cat, who also resides here from time to time, have twice missed each other by a whisker. I asked him about Nico, my other lost boy, and he said he saw him standing in a field between here and Bargaloo…just standing there…he’d been gone for days Lillian.
I also discovered something else…there was an invasion of body snatchers…apparently… after that horrendous smash up in Sandy Parker’s car…the lost boys formed a new gang…car stealing…or should I say ka infestation...then Danton’s car was smashed up on the Baton Highway… along was his Ka. Imagine two cars…one burn’t black…the other…faceless….no wonder they were not recognised by the head of the head honchos…but I am digressing…
Extracts from Sandy Parker’s Pilgrimage… April 27…2010
Saw my very first bird…@part from Sparrow…I think it was a Stork. The next day…leaving Ventosa enroute to Najerra. There were chemtrails in the sky…sometime later Rob and I stopped at a small grove where I left rock and crystal offerings. The energy there was beautiful. We stayed there awhile. It was Rob’s idea to swap medications…I gave him two dex and I had a respidal. High in the sky three black birds of prey circled.
Leaving that place, we found ourselves in the district of La Rioja… a region of space dominated by grapevines, some quite ugly modern townships and miles of red earth….it was in this district that we came upon the lizards lair…a big pile of boulders only partially obscuring the entrance to an underground cave system…it was situated at the edge of an area of land that had been cleared of grapevines…I noticed a huge pile of dried grey matter on flat rock near the entrance to the cave…it had a peculiar smell…like shit but not like it…it was an alien smell Lily…
The rest of the day and that night and the following day were a nightmare I would rather forget. The respidal kicked in making me feel leaden…it became harder and harder to walk…we were headed for Navarette…I manage to stumble my way, supported by Rob to the outskirts of the city where I collapsed under a tree…Lily I honestly did not think I would make it…Rob had to half drag, half carry me to the Albergue. Upon our arrival at the Albergue De Peregrinos …Rob and I dutifully presented our credencials to the ‘Master of the House’’. Oh Lily I got such bad vibes from him…it was like he hated me on site…Rob told me it was because he could see that I was not a real Catholic.
I tell you Lily that was the first and last time during this pilgrimage where I had experienced prejudice on the basis of me not being of the Catholic Religion. It seemed absurd. I had met many pilgrims on this journey and they were not all Catholic??? Anyway over dinner that night a frightening change came over Rob. I kept on asking what’s wrong? what wrong? I was flummoxed! Later by the river…a torrent of verbal abuse and false allegations…the likes of which I would rather not repeat….Lily..it was as if he had become possessed by the devil himself. I was traumatised by it. Not only that but all the other pilgrims would have heard it. Returning to the dorm that night...all was quiet…I stayed awake plotting my escape…
The next day I told Rob that I no longer wanted to continue the pilgrimage with him and that I would be leaving as soon as I could arrange it…ie at the next major township…for the next three days we walked in virtual silence….and then I though fuck it…why should I let him spoil this pilgrimage for me…I was determined to continue with or without him….
On April 28 I wrote in my diary…that I had seen the hill where Roland slew the giant…but I don’t remember that
…the place Najerra…about rock collecting…I started collecting rocks soon after leaving Ronscevalles…initially the plan was to collect approximately 25 grey triangular or squarish rocks to make a set of rune stones…so because I was constantly on the lookout for rocks that would be suitable for rune stones…I started noticing all the other rocks along the way.
Leaving Najerra I noticed 2 alien rocks….one resembling the face of a white lizard type of alien and the other a grey, predator type of alien… I carried them for a while…but by this time I had collected so many rocks…they became to heavy to carry…so I had to get rid of a lot of them…some I sent back to Australia in Puenta la Reina…
That day we stopped at a weird place that had these funny looking cement chairs ( shaped somewhat like deck chairs)…in front of each chair was a square arrangement filled with pebbles…too weird…you could not sit on them in any kind of comfortable way…they obviously had some function but what?...it was hard to tell…could they have been used for washing feet or maybe beheadings perhaps…the surroundings landscape was bleak and without shelter…presently a young German fellow turns up…I cannot remember his name, unfortunately, but I do remember that it wasn’t Wolfgang…and I met more than one German by that name. We walked aways together but Rob had to stop to put more bandaids on his blisters and he went on ahead.
I had written in my diary…on that day…to refer to San Domingo…in the book…’The Way of St James’ by Alison Raju.
Santo Domingo de la Calzada
Santo Domingo was a shepherd, he wanted to enter the monastery of San Milan de la Cogilla but was refused admission because he was illiterate. He then built a hermitage and a chapel in a forest in a notoriously bandit infested stretch of the Camino between Logrono and Burgos. He also built a hospital so that he could look after sick pilgrims. He was buried in the cathedral of San Salvador which today houses a cock and a hen high up inside the building. One night a a family of three pilgrims stayed at an inn in the town. The innkeepers’ daughter made sexual advances toward the son which were rejected…in revenge she placed a bag of money in his pack and then alerted her inn keeper father who set of after them. The son was brought before a judge who condemned him to death. His parents continued the journey without him, but his mother was not convinced he was dead…so she went back to the spot where he had been executed and found him alive but still hanging. They then went to the judge to ask for him to be released. He declared that the boy was no more likely to be alive than were the cock and the hen on his table able to fly – which they immediately did.
At a place called Alto de San Antoin…the site of the ruins of a convent and a hospital I noticed a black eyed man staring at me…that was the day I took Ben’s medication and just about fainted. I wanted to run away from that place as fast as my useless legs would carry me…everything about it was evil and dark and spooky…really bad timing on my part re the medication situation.
I have already spoken of the two alien rocks I had found earlier….well I also found one that looked like a human skull. That day I met up with Nancy from Canada, she was curious about why I was collecting all these rocks. I told her that wanted to make rune stones out of them. We arrived in a place called Cirinuela, a curiously ultra modern township but strangely deserted…endless rows of modern apartments buildings with expensive modern cars parked outside…it was an anomaly in this land of ancient ruins and medieval villages….there was a huge play area for children in the centre of it but no children anywhere to be seen…the only person I saw was a man on a lawnmower…no one else
April 29….Arriving in San Domingo de la Calzada, we stopped at an inn. The television blaring. I mean no offence when I say this but Spanish people have a way of talking that sounds like machine gun fire…sometimes…apparently there had been a situation regarding a whale that had been washed ashore and had to be sawn in half…I felt sick. Rob and I were barely on speaking terms by this stage…following the horrific verbal assault in Najerra…
Some time later….
The refugio in Belarado, was like a marble palace. It was on three levels… in square formation that looked down onto a spacious interior courtyard. I should mention something about refugious…the come in all varieties, humble, grand, ancient, modern, family run, convent run, sports halls, monasteries, extensions on people’s house…without very little exception the rooms were all dormitory style, some housing hundreds of bunks beds, others a few mattresses on the floor. Some had restuarants or dining areas attached, some didn’t. Where there were no dining facilities pilgrims would be directed to a local eatery specifically catering to pilgrims. The dinner menu always included a bottle of red wine, on the house and a three course meal…these were not fancy at all I can tell you…usually there was bread, tinned spaghetti, macaroni, or soup, something like spag bolognaise or stew, sometimes fish, desert would be stewed fruit, or rice pudding or something like that…it usually cost between 8 and 11 euro’s, accommodation in the refugio’s …about five.
There was a very weird occurrence in the refugio…a really creepy guy decided to wash a very large bag of grapes in the sink in the women’s Bathroom…typical dorm style situation with cubicles of showers and toilets…the refugio was packed that night with pilgrims…anyhoos after my shower I noticed a Mexican style of man …resembling somewhat an evil carpenter that I had had an association with the year before…I said “can’t you seen that this is the women’s toilets”…he pretended not to understand me…so I pointed at the sign on the door depicting…as was the Spanish way…a senorita in Latin dress…at which point he became very stroppy… all the while washing each grape, it would seem by hand, and throwing it back into the sink… with some force.
I was feeling a bit despondent about things that night, wandering if I could go on when I met up with Nancy again…I told her about the man and the grapes….i also told her of my woes…. and what do you think I should do? …she said…just remember that you are free to leave at any time….. Apart from anything else…I was really upset with rob because his jealousy and possessiveness made it difficult for me to interact with the other pilgrims in a way where I could be free to be myself….but as it was I was having to shun contact with the others just to keep the peace….i felt cheated about that…also the presence of so many old German men was really bothering me…they were rude and arrogant and I had a number of flare ups with them about that….more on that later…I asked Nancy about the trail ahead….the mesetta, the notoriously bleak stretch ahead, between Logrono and Leon…. known as the mental plain…quite a few pilgrims…I was to learn, bypassed this section entirely…by catching a bus between the two cities.
There are three parts to the Camino, the physical, the mental and the spiritual each of which correspond to the three areas which the Camino traverses…is that the right word for it? The first part is quite gentle, both in terms of landscape, degree of difficulty and frequency of vibration. The first two weeks…which covers the foothills of the Pyrenees (if you start at Roncesvalles…which I did), La Rioja…the wine growing district and winding up in Najera…so named as the place of two rocks. From there the track winds its way between high cliffs. This part of the walk is physical in nature…the pilgrim finds his/her walking legs in a pleasant surroundings…woodlands, farms and quaint medieval villages.
The second or middle past is the most gruelling part and from my memory of it….this part begins in the city of Burgos and covers the high northern plateau of Spain. The weather, I have heard is either burning hot, dry and dusty, bitterly cold and windy or it rains constantly. For Rob and myself…leaving Burgos…it was rain and wind…the landscape is harsh and bleak, largely devoid of trees, and the villages are few and far between. My memories of it include, highways, industrial landscapes, ruins, dull little townships that have none of the charm and mystery of those I had passed through in the weeks before…or wide open spaces of nothingness and grey skies.
The third part of the pilgrimage is spiritual. Having honed his/her body to a state of supreme physical fitness and endured the mental challenges that surface on the mesetta, the pilgrim enters into the Galica region with it’s backdrop of snow capped mountains, ancient woods, rivers and forests and villages that have not changed in a thousand years…
25 minutes to One in the morning. October 31…Halloween Day
Usurunan wants to know about my childhood experiences. I don’t know what to say…I don’t like to talk about them Lily.
I was going to tell you about my experience in the monastery at San Juan De Ortega and the stars that night…also about finding rocks in the shapes of human skulls and maps of Australia in the borderlands of Burgos…where we got lost…also I didn’t tell you about getting lost after Logrono or the murderous Moroccans or the night I saw my first orbs in a sports hall in the village of Hornillos del Caminos and the three black witches and the fact that despite not seeing a single soul on the trail that entire windswept rain drenched first day on the mesetta, the refugio at Hornillos was full-up with old ladies…about Patrice and the loss of her walking stick , how we didn’t get to eat any dinner that night and we were starving…. or the goat men and other things….Usurunan says I can get back to that later.
You know what? You probably remember them better than me. Why don’t you tell him? He also wants to know about my supposed alien abductions and also about my dimensional travels. Well you know that the mere mention of anything unusual happening in the lives of ordinary folk such as myself...can only ever mean one thing, incarceration in a Prison for the Elderly, infirm and Mentally unhinged and or Deranged. PEiMD for short.
Also some of the people who work for Usurunan and some of the people who don’t, have decided to gang up on me because I have not been ‘’pulling my weight’’. Well I would say to them…I am now an infirm and cannot do much except watch TV all day…because of a number of issues that include elephantitus of the legs, man boobs and a brain that is not connected to my body…I know this because I went to see the chiropractor about it….he said that…that could have happened because of emotional trauma….and it is true Lily…it happened after Rob and I had returned from our trip up North. He was in a state of complete derangement when we got home. We then went to stay at a beach house in Culburra, near Nowra on the South Coast. It was a sad time for us and harrowing for me….a baby whale was born an orphan and then died …among other things. Rob started on again about my supposed licentious behaviour with hordes of men…just the fact that we had been together 24 hours a day for months on end and that he would know about it… if what he was saying was true…was not enough to convince him of my innocence…this time it was an accusation involving astral sex…meanwhile he’s pressuring me to perform sexual acts with him that I don’t want to partake in… and by the way… I was at that stage sick of all his sex talk and the porn and I got to thinking how much maligned women are in this regard…and I am only half a woman myself…I had my own issues with the female of the species as it was...but here I was siding with them.
The religious orders and many of the financial establishmentarians and geriantrians had put out this rumour that women or rather females were sexually responsible for all licentiousness in matters of the heart because of their work in the brothels and in the porn industry and their general fawning demeanour towards the goat men. Sure some of them were taking them on rides, others… macropods and quite a few other life forms were totally bewildered and or tortured. Once such female caused shockwaves to reverberate in my little corner of the galaxy where such a thing as a human man and a human woman together in one place is impossibility…so you can appreciate my dilemma…
This female by the name of Linda Lovelace was able to completely swallow an entire man’s penis into her throat…she was so famous the world over that men began to have fantasies about it…what they did not see, could not see…was that Linda Lovelace was not a human female in the sense of one…that you might recognise today…people only see what they know…in the in between state, people do not have real physicality, it is the observer who puts a shape to a genetic imprint that they perceive with other senses and different types of eyes and eye colours…and this is due to primary cell perception. So they only see… what the genetic imprint that they are sensing…the entity as it were….looked like in a life that they had once shared with this life form…because that is the only frame of reference they have for that entity….even though they might be a million years apart in space and time. The more life forms you encounter…that are not part of your usual ambit…. the more times you fold space….
Linda Lovelace…and I saw this in a vision…was a type of humanoid with a tubular type trunk that had adapted or become co dependent on…a species with a long snake like protuberance out of which female genitals emerge from a knob on the top….a legacy of ancient and barbaric circumcision rites on an island in the black sea. Not my imagination Lily. Your imagination OK.
When I realised what the head honcho’s were up to with their financial manipulations…before…not so much now OK….along with other dubious rules and methods of medical diagnosis and treatment…I did wonder Lily… I truly did…
I don’t know who or what they are exactly…or where they come from or how they got here….but I know for a fact that the contrivance of third world debt and third world poverty is as much about men’s out of control perverted sexual appetites as it is about money. Third world debt equals cheap prostitutes for rich foreign men.
So the lost boys return and what do they find… elephants, eggheads and a prostitute on every corner of every red light district that you could think off….there were sightings too…of the mysterious and elusive yeti…. on Rusty Jo’s hobby farm… of all tragically ridiculous locations!
I have seen the devastating consequences of this tragic perversion of evolution with my own eyes….within one generation….the overall health, fertility and general wellbeing of that conquered country goes into complete decline…Usuranan told me the same thing happens in reverse…when reptilian females become the dominant consciousness they take out the young men and boys…including two of my boys
So you can see Lily… I have at times been furious with reptilian females for their disgusting carnivorous habits and predatory ways…I have also been furious with the male of the species…(the most recent incarnation of their form was a disaster)…as I was saying …I was furious with the head honcho guys and the other boofhead hominid varieties …religious self justifcators included….for taking advantage of females in their youth and totally debasing and destroying their dignity and potential by turning them into sex slaves and later farm animals…just to satisfy their warped lusts….and then saying to the Prime Manager’s Envoy….often the girl’s father or brother who may or may not have introduced the porn movies to their sons in the first place (when they were too young to know the difference between good and evil)….look what a dirty horrible slut your daughter/sister/mother is…
…this is the environment I found myself in during the last days of my time line. It was not always like this…what changed….i don’t know….in this other timeline…I saw a lot of porn magazines for sale… and a lot of semi retarded, mummified and stupefied and/or robotic females around and a lot of females who I would classify as ‘old blokes with no dicks’….and brothels full of Asian women…to be replaced later by transexuals posing as females or young girls from places like Russia or the Ukraine or the Baltic States….it struck me that these men, these purveyors of porn and taboo sexual acts were like a plague of locusts, using up and degrading the females and children…. of the countries they conquered, throwing them on the scrap heap along with the children and grandchildren they never had…and moving on to the next ‘poor underdeveloped country’.
The end result of all of this…and I know this….because I saw it happen….one day the last baby to be conceived in the natural way by two people of the opposite sex (and in love at the moment of conception) was born…and died…and that was the end….i just don’t know exactly when it happened.
Usurunan and myself have been a loggerheads about this….at one point…he simply could not get it into his head that the females of your planet lily….had a soul or even a right to exist in the universe at all because as he put it ..he created them out of faulty genetic material that had been soaked in formaldehyde or something like it…and it was a mistake and therefore he was justified in getting rid of them in deference to the cyborg soldiers he had invented….and then I realised Lily…he was demented. No!!! Usurunan did not create females out of clay or preserved body parts and cloned males or by castrating boys at birth and giving them hormones so he could pass them off as prostitutes to unsuspecting older males. Sure he created female clones and replicants using as his template a barbie doll that had once belonged to his daughter…. and which bore no resemblance to the original art forms that once decorated the jungles and stone ruins in those jungles.
But here I am digressing again…because Usurunan wants me to talk about my early childhood experiences and I am writing about everything and anything but that.
Re the the instructions for building spaceships that can fold space and hence travel through time using a mechanism known as primary cell perception. I cannot tell you exactly what materials I used or when or where in case the information falls into the wrong hands. They built their space travel, time machine type of ship out of constructions plans that I myself had invented…not that I take all the credit for it…more on that later…
Lily this is not some wild outlandish theory on my part…I remember hearing about primary cell perception when I was studying at the university here…also I did not invent unobtanium. In the time line that I came from…in my most recent past on your planet…that information was freely available on the net. All I did was put two and two together…the random aspect to it involving spilt blood…my own as it happens…. as a result of accident with broken glass vase…and some baby teeth but whose?...Danton’s or Nico’s…I don’t know….it was a spur of the moment thing… to add the teeth.
The way I see it…as regards ‘impartial observer agent’ studying the modus operandi of the various players in this ‘galaxy plus entertainment parade’ is that the lost boys or rather…weirdo coneheads….. left their children in the care of some very dubious nanny caretakers…they then used information I had provided to Usurunan ( only they used cloned materials) and vice versa to build themselves a space travel ship and basically go off and explore the universe ect ect…which they did with limited success.
Upon their arrival back on planet earth…they were shocked…not only that they were disgraced to find themselves in the hot seat as a consequences of the events that were soon to transpire….not only that!!! they were shocked by their own appearances.
I have had to reassure Usurunan several times now…usually as a con sequence of his ….dare I say it…inane delusions of grandeur….the first time it happens is such a shock…well more so for Usurunan than myself…imagine this…from Usurunan’s perspective….he returns from his trip to another planet on the other side of this galaxy. He will be hailed as a hero and he can hardly wait…while the circumstances of his life are still very mysterious, not only to himself, but to everyone else as well!...he is nevertheless feeling very confident being schooled as it were in the Fine Art of Dictatorhood. He is so handsome…he has sequested a ‘ka’ (much to the dismay of it’s owner) for the day’s proclamations and celebrations ect, ect….the whole city thinks he’s a superhero…just as he is about to step up to his podium to accept all his awards and prizes, accolades ect, ect………in another part of town, his great grandmother, slender and stylish, her short dark curls look sweet with her eyes made up like that…she is wearing 1930’3 style of dress, fitted little jacket and pencil thin knee high skirt, black pumps, a pillbox hat, matching gloves and hat and cute clutch bag to match…
She becomes distracted while crossing the street to the post office…she was on her way to post a Valentines Day Card to her new boyfriend, Pierre…an Aviator from Paris….just as she is about to reach the curb…. a dual carriage, red coloured, semi trailer , travelling at great speeding appears out of nowhere and slams into her spreading blood and gore all over the road….just like those dead kangaroos you used to see on your way to work every morning Lily.
Not that Usurunan knows about any of this…later much later he is in his apartment back in his home city, no one comes to visit him, no one rings him, his family don’t want to know him, he gets harassed by government agents and at one point ends up homeless…then he discovers that there is no record that he ever existed at all…then he realises he is alone. Then he understands that he is not….really alone. Do you remember Usurunan?...that’s when you became a bird of prey gang member. You wrote a manifesto which was considered to be dangerous and subversive even in the underworld. It was called “How and in What Manner I decided to Become a Member of the most Secret Detection Lair and Spying Base the World has EVEr Wondered About”. You reasoned that it would suffice as a worthwhile distraction from your persistent vegetative state. Do you remember how everyone laughed because the title did not fit onto the cover in the big bold letters that you wanted. Some of the reptilians were so alarmed they changed their colours.
Or how about this one Usurunan…you have just been elected as the most noble religious person in your village and as a reward you get to live in the castle at the top of the hill and keep all the gold…but just as you are about to accept this honour, a duplicate of yourself is exposed as the worst criminal and purveyor of porn the world has ever known…as a punishment you are forced to live in exile, while Linda Lovelace and an assortment of other dubious characters are given diplomatic postings to Saudi Arabia and other places like that.
Or this one Usurunan…you are going to be a movie star who becomes a model for Greek Plays and other dramas…your leadings ladies are the sexiest ladies you know…pictures of your beautiful face are splashed all across billboards in many far flung regions of the world. You are due to start work on a Wednesday…on the Tuesday, whilst attending to your grooming requirements you notice that the face looking back at you is not your own and that the body you are in is not yours…a large heavy set woman…(could just as easily be a chubby, non descript middle aged man as well ) with chunky thighs and a huge bottom and a bedraggled look about her is staring back at you….you’ve seen her before and you know that’s where you’ll be for another seven years. You have a vague impressions of being hooked up to an intravenous tube down which a thick milky type of porridge formula is being injected into you veins….stomach…it seems like you are lying for months in a vegetative comatose state. When the limo driver arrives the next morning to take you to the studio…your gone…back to Bargaloo and the sheep paddocks and the flies…or this one…your ka gets smashed up in freak accident on Bargaloo Highway…there are no survivors.
Get over it Usurunan…sometimes it can happen twice in the same day…for me my the most extreme example of a fall from Grace was from Isis to nuclear waste and blue green algae…life goes on and on….and on…
I saw you once…Usurunan…on the television… you had very white skin and the skin on your face was stretched tight across it giving your eyes a very slanted appearance…your companion looked like a kind of large oafish hairless orang-utan….and I mean no offence by that…I was a very young child at the time…
If it’s any consolation and I truly understand your yearning for the land of your memories….i too walked those same streets long after you had gone….i lived in a suburb called Azabu…in Tokyo…before Japan was colonised by western influences and modernisers. So we lived in a grand old fashioned Japanese Mansion with a beautiful traditional Japanese Garden inside a walled garden on a very large corner block in a quiet suburb of Tokyo… as it was in 1966 – 68. I mention this phase because it coincides with another memory I have of a house in Japan…this other house was in a quiet little street…the kind not built for cars….lanterns hung from windows and doorways casting a sultry orange glow to the tiny little streets shops and houses jumbled up together…selling all sorts of things from herbs and apothecary items medicines, ornaments, cupie dolls, food, baked goods, sweets…a type of wagon wheel called a choco pook. In those days Japanese women still wore Kimono’s as an item of daily wear…not all of them…but a lot.
I remember in the winter walking in predawn hours to catch the bus to the American School…somewhere on the outskirts of the city…and arriving home after dark…those were magical times sometimes..in hinsight…. and I almost always had my little brother for company. In the winter…we would sometimes buy baked sweet potatoes from a street vendor…or chestnuts…
There was a school around the corner from my house…the Nischi Machi school (spell?)…both my brother and I went to the school in the beginning. We were both subsequently expelled from it and I honestly cannot be bothered getting into that right now but needless to say it was an unfortunate occurrence.
Anyway re…this other memory….this house was build like a square with an internal courtyard….that may or may not have had a roof. It was a wooden structure with wooden railings along the balconies that looked out onto this small courtyard…which I think had plants in it. The wood was very dark in colour. The ‘bath’ room had the look and feel of a Finnish sauna…and the bath in that house consisted of a large quite deep rectangular shaped structure that was built up from floor level and out of the same dark ‘aromatic’ wood…I loved that bath and the smell of the wood, the hot steam in the winter…but what was I remembering?….that was not the house that I lived in. I don’t know where that memory comes from ..maybe Usurunan knows…who knows.
This much I know…. the girl who lived there was a much treasured child
Lily about your severly fucked up…. albeit exciting and dangerous early childhood years…..
Lily I have seen those home movies of you and the others in Africa. Each and every time I watch it …the weirder it becomes.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Slipway into Giangurra Dreamtime
Slipway into Giangurra Dream Time
Hi Lily…I think its September 27….i am bored with Sooty’s ramblings, but I will get back to them later…also I have to tell you about some other mysterious occurrences on the Camino… but I just have to be in the mood to do it ok….
Anyhoos I promised you that I would tell you about an episode from my northern adventure with rob warren mcwallace…it concerns ‘that episode’ whereupon rob and I spent a whole night sleeping on a crocodile infested beach….where we had inadvertently set up our tent…and how that situation came about….
We had travelled a long way from home….thousands of miles in fact….up to Cape Tribulation which was nice…there were issues after that…. concerning Rob and his mental state…an extremely naughty adolescent boy type of dog…Charlie…some supposed lethal weaponry in the van…that I didn’t know was illegal in Queensland. It was a bow and arrow, which I had intended to give to Danton as a Xmas present ….he actually gave it back to me coz he said it was too small ( and then he took it back) anyhoos it ended up in the van with us (as did all the cleaning products from under the laundry sink which Rob had packed along with heaps of other useless things??? We had to buy a tent because there was not enough room in the van to actually sleep in it…creating nightmarish mobility situation??? and when Charlie pissed on our mattress in a caravan park…we had to drag everything out including the bow and arrow….shocking the other residents…who were mostly retirees.
We got kicked out of that caravan park and one or two others btw….Rob swore at the people in the camp site next to us…they were genuinely upset and had every right to be …as far as I could see they had done nothing to elicit this response…I was furious with him…we had an argument about it and other matters which caused further disturbance. Charlie was also making a huge nuisance of himself wherever we went…if we let him of his lead for even one second he would run off chasing bush turkeys, wanting to play with every single dog he met, even when they didn’t want to play with him…he would jump up on people and bark at them, nip at their heels, steal their stuff and chew it up ect ect….oh yes and he had a habit of doing poops….diarrhoea ones twice....outside shops. Once he had explosive diarrhoea outside a real estate agency in Townsville…how am I supposed to pick that up???.....so what do i do?....run away……another time he caused a horrible fight to break out between me and another camper who accused Charlie of spreading garbage everywhere….as it happens the garbage bin was full so people had been leaving their garbage next to it…I chose not to do that….this guy yells out…it’s people like you (Charlie, Rob and myself) who give camping grounds a bad name blah, blah…..by the way Charlie had barely started on the garbage before I nabbed him and tied him up.
Lily…I just about lost the plot…..Rob was going bezerko and swearing and yelling at other people or just the sky…. If I tied Charlie up he would bark and bark and whine…if I let him go he went bezerko…..we got kicked out of three caravan parks in 3 days….is it any wonder that I suffer from nervous collapse and that you maybe could die from it?
Ok so driving down the highway….i am shouting at Rob this time…what we really need to do is find a place where we can camp, where Charlie can be free to roam and where Rob can rant and rave at the invisible people…without it being a problem for anyone who happens to be in the vicinity….So driving on down the highway….we spot a road…marked by a handwritten sign saying Slipway….so we decided to investigate…we needed to find an isolated spot as it was no longer possible to camp with or even near any other folk…we were like the holiday campers from hell as far as they were concerned and the regards that they held us in were not very high at all.
This road let to a boat builders yard….the two guys working there told us about a place further on down another road where we could camp….so we went down that road and came to a dirt road marked by another hand written sign saying Slipway.
That road led to Giangurra and a beach….there were a few houses there and a carpark and a rest area with toilet block and running water….no one there…it was ideal…oh except the sign with a picture on it of a black Crocodile and the words DANGER and Achtung. We had started setting up the tent when Michael turned up and showed us how to do the post holes properly. He told us he was from Yarrabah and that this land was the traditional land…and owned by them, of his wife Nancy’s tribe. We asked if we could meet her and the rest of the clan, which we did. We introduced ourselves as refuges from the beginning and end of time and asked them for permission to camp on their land. We explained our predicament to them and they were kool about it. We all became good friends after that….we used to give Michael and the children money for helping us move our stuff and set up camp several times over the next 11 days. Michael also scored some Hoochy which I used to smoke with Cecil…an elder of the tribe and Nancy’s stepfather. It was like smoking the peace pipe….sitting on the beach…not too close and at low tide…. talking about the dream time and time travel, snakes in the sky, 2012 predictions, totem animals, music we loved and films we had seen. I told Cecil a story about an African man who had followed a lion all over Africa and that he looked like him…and he did…and Cecil remembered it. A group of young guys who partied every night joined us…one boy…one of my maori ancestors tried to scare me with stories about how the maoris were cannibals ect…and I said…yeah well I probably…. used to be… maybe…was….a cannibal too… in a distant life that I cannot remember or didn‘t know about. The guys all used to gather nearby at night and play music extremely loudly until the early hours and shout and carry on and get drunk but they never once bothered us and we never bothered them….it was their land.
And…..one of the best things about Giangurra was how well Charlie fitted it. From the minute we arrived he was off his lead and free to roam…ok this was not without danger…but you can’t keep someone a prisoner for safety reasons…indeed one of the first things Michael said to us was …’don’t keep your dog on a lead’….if the crocodile should wander by they cannot escape. None of the dogs were on leads and from the moment on Charlie was in heaven. For most of the day he was off playing with the other dogs. In the evening he would return to our tent, flop down exhausted and sleep like a baby for the rest of the night. He became particularly close to a mother dog and her two puppies who hung out near the car park area….by this time we had moved camp three times and were staying close to Nancy and family in relatively safe part of the beach… a little way up a track.
What happened was this…after the first night in the ‘relative’ safety of the rest area next to the car park…Michael and Nancy suggested we move to an area further up the beach that was set back from it and higher than it and somewhat sheltered by shrubbery….but even here, the local people would keep their camp fires burning outside their tents every night just in case.
Which reminds me…that very first night…a raging fire broke out…the whole of the street behind the car park and beyond seemed to go up in flames…at first I wasn’t too freaked out by it but as it encroached ever more scarily on my own particular domain I did get a bit nervy…twice I ran to Nancy’s tent and woke them up, blabbing on about the fire…they didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest….Nancy just said don’t worry, go to sleep….so I did….the next day you would never have guessed that a fire had ever been through there….no ashes, no burning embers …nothing…just a clear blue sky and a gentle breeze.
So the next day…after that first night….we moved our tent up the beach…through the lagoon and into another little section of the beach that was between the lagoon area and the waters edge. Quinton, a little boy of about 10, helped Rob set up the tent, while I unpacked the van….as it happens the only place where the ground was stable enough to stick the post holes into….in between shrubbery leading to the lagoon…. just happened to be smack bang in the middle of the mothers crocs route to the lagoon to visit her babies. By this time it was getting dark….i had sent the younger kids home while the tide as still low….about 100 metres down the beach. I was worried about Quinton, we needed his help, but I did not want him walking back along the beach at high tide or through the lagoon which was looking more and more dark and spooky with every passing moment….so we decided to stay on this beach but move out of the crocs direct path to the lagoon…I walked Quinton back and then returned and we hurriedly put up the tent near some shrubbery in a little corner of this beach. I used our backpacks and food storage boxes, the chairs and table, the gas bottles and cooktop… to form a barricade around the tent and also dragged tree branches around it…plus I padded the inside of the tent as Charlie was prone to sleep tucked up in the corner and the smell of dog is like waiving a red flag to a bull when it comes to crocs….
After that night I began using a pisspot in the tent because twice I had to get up in the middle of the night to take a piss…it was pitch black and both times I felt the presence of the crocodile nearby watching.
Edward paid us a visit that night, he came staggering up the beach, wandering far to close the water in my view. He was drunk and he wanted money to buy a cask of Sunnyvale white wine…the beveridge of choice among most of the folk at Giangurra…he stayed and had a smoke with us and ‘borrowed’ some money and left. As he staggered back down the beach completely oblivious to the crocodile threat……which he would waive away as being of little concern every time I broached the subject with him….i thought he is the crocodile man…
Lily….the crocodile on this beach was Edwards totem animal! …that’s why it never attacked him…and he was an old man…well a little older than me but he looked ancient…a bit like an old croc actually….he had lived there all his life. Is that luck? Just the other day a puppy belonging to Charlie’s friend, the mother dog, and which apparently looked just like Charlie in every way right down to identical spots, had been munched. The little puppy got too close to the water and the crocodile just leapt out and swallowed him whole….that’s why there were only two puppies when we arrived. One of them had been eaten by the croc.
That evening I spoke to the mother croc…I said “I am friendly person who doesn’t mind crocs…after all. And I absolutely promise you that I will not hurt your babies….if you don’t hurt me or Rob or my dog Charlie”.….i think she must have understood…..the next morning….there were numerous baby croc tracks all around the tent…but none of the mother croc.
That morning walking back up the beach to Nancy and Michaels area…one on Nancy’s friends looked at us incredulously when she found out where we had spent the night…she was shocked…she was looking at Rob and me as if we were completely bananas. I had not met her before but I had seen her…she had kept her distance…but now she was suggesting we move our tent up main tribes camping area…I am not being flippant when I say that I was touched by her concern.
Oh Lily…. I don’t know how I am going to explain this to you…the situation just gets worse...I am only telling you this because you may have to experience it yourself one day ……soon and then you might blame me because it was such an amazing bungle .. … =.l/?
Sigh…..we set the tent up between two lovely trees….i was thinking….i could put the hammock up between these trees and live here forever…it was such a lovely afternoon and the sun was setting…it was so beautiful…sigh…the waters covering the mudflats now…so pretty….! Guess What Lily….the water came right up to the tent…ok I am exaggerating… by high tide there was approximately one foot of space between our tent opening and the waters edge.
That night Jimbo and his woman set up camp near us….they had collected heaps of coconut husks and had a good fire going….that afternoon I had gone around collecting firewood and coconuts husks but not near enough to keep a fire going all night so I asked them if they could spare some and they did….so we did at least have a fire going….and a good one by the time the tide had come up completely….
Jimbo and I had been sharing surreptitious glances all afternoon…not of a romantic kind as such, rather one of …I know you are having problems with your man and vice versa….rather I knew also that relations between him and his woman, a Maori lass were very strained….that evening he had introduced himself to us primarily to express concern about our border security situation…he had suggested two more fires …one on either side of the tent…or that we sleep in the van…..now….we …we got out of the tent real quick I can tell you….it was a horrible night…the mattress was damp and smelly …the bed clothes were damp and horrible….rob chain smoked all night and I got asthmas…Charlie kept on wanting to go outside …that or he was chewing on my shoes or something…I lost so much stuff to charlies chewings…very depressing….there was a bit of yelling going on between rob and me at Giangurra but it didn’t phase any of the locals at all….if anything they were bemused and amused by it all…in any case it was not as if they were without their random flare ups.
Earlier that afternoon, Rob appeared to be in a daze…he kept on wandering too close to the water’s edge and I forever had to yell out to him to get away from the water…I was trying to organise the tent and becoming more and more exasperated by the minute. It was as bit like being the mother of two hopelessly out of control, danger mouse, space cadet, children with this enormous, ferocious, carnivorous, prehistoric, predatory, coldblooded monster on the loose. I was sick of it. Charlie was also out there gallivanting with the mother dog and her babies. I said to Rob that night in the van…yes we had to sleep in the van that night…on the mattress Charlie had pissed on… I said….i know I can’t complain…is this not the place we have been searching for and here we are in …..paradise s ss
“Look Benny”… I said….”.i am sick of having to deal with this crocodile situation”...i finally said to him….”you might not care about being munched on by a crocodile…do you seriously not care about me having to deal with all the blood and gore should that eventuate….think about my sensibilities …er sensitivities for once!”
How can I describe it?…..‘this constant, nightmarish, crocodile menace” …. I wanted to go somewhere where I could just relax and not have to deal with it… rob felt the same way…..however the next day we moved the tent again and this time it was ok….and that’s where we stayed for the next 8 days or nights….
That morning after the two nights in a row crocodile situation…my unrestful and morose state was disturbed by a major screaming fit on the part of Jimbo’s woman…she was incensed that he had asked her to go and get the crab pots in…. He was flummoxed I could tell….she left in her car, in a fury, leaving him stranded at Giangurra…Jimbo didn’t live at Giangurra, he lived in Cairns… Jimbo knew everyone at Giangurra and was somewhat related to them but his woman had never been there. This was her first visit. He told me that he loved her very much and had stayed up all night keeping the fire going out of concern for her and that he had not slept all night. I got the impression he was genuinely bewildered by her reaction and very hurt….
We gave Jimbo a lift back into Cairns and he let us use his shower and his washing machine and we just hung out at his place that afternoon….then we went to McDonalds to find his woman…and find her we did….and get this she turned on us for helping Jimbo to find us….i just couldn’t believe that she was so angry…Jimbo was really upset about it.
The next few days were idyllic and quite unusual….as it turned out…..
Hi Lily…I think its September 27….i am bored with Sooty’s ramblings, but I will get back to them later…also I have to tell you about some other mysterious occurrences on the Camino… but I just have to be in the mood to do it ok….
Anyhoos I promised you that I would tell you about an episode from my northern adventure with rob warren mcwallace…it concerns ‘that episode’ whereupon rob and I spent a whole night sleeping on a crocodile infested beach….where we had inadvertently set up our tent…and how that situation came about….
We had travelled a long way from home….thousands of miles in fact….up to Cape Tribulation which was nice…there were issues after that…. concerning Rob and his mental state…an extremely naughty adolescent boy type of dog…Charlie…some supposed lethal weaponry in the van…that I didn’t know was illegal in Queensland. It was a bow and arrow, which I had intended to give to Danton as a Xmas present ….he actually gave it back to me coz he said it was too small ( and then he took it back) anyhoos it ended up in the van with us (as did all the cleaning products from under the laundry sink which Rob had packed along with heaps of other useless things??? We had to buy a tent because there was not enough room in the van to actually sleep in it…creating nightmarish mobility situation??? and when Charlie pissed on our mattress in a caravan park…we had to drag everything out including the bow and arrow….shocking the other residents…who were mostly retirees.
We got kicked out of that caravan park and one or two others btw….Rob swore at the people in the camp site next to us…they were genuinely upset and had every right to be …as far as I could see they had done nothing to elicit this response…I was furious with him…we had an argument about it and other matters which caused further disturbance. Charlie was also making a huge nuisance of himself wherever we went…if we let him of his lead for even one second he would run off chasing bush turkeys, wanting to play with every single dog he met, even when they didn’t want to play with him…he would jump up on people and bark at them, nip at their heels, steal their stuff and chew it up ect ect….oh yes and he had a habit of doing poops….diarrhoea ones twice....outside shops. Once he had explosive diarrhoea outside a real estate agency in Townsville…how am I supposed to pick that up???.....so what do i do?....run away……another time he caused a horrible fight to break out between me and another camper who accused Charlie of spreading garbage everywhere….as it happens the garbage bin was full so people had been leaving their garbage next to it…I chose not to do that….this guy yells out…it’s people like you (Charlie, Rob and myself) who give camping grounds a bad name blah, blah…..by the way Charlie had barely started on the garbage before I nabbed him and tied him up.
Lily…I just about lost the plot…..Rob was going bezerko and swearing and yelling at other people or just the sky…. If I tied Charlie up he would bark and bark and whine…if I let him go he went bezerko…..we got kicked out of three caravan parks in 3 days….is it any wonder that I suffer from nervous collapse and that you maybe could die from it?
Ok so driving down the highway….i am shouting at Rob this time…what we really need to do is find a place where we can camp, where Charlie can be free to roam and where Rob can rant and rave at the invisible people…without it being a problem for anyone who happens to be in the vicinity….So driving on down the highway….we spot a road…marked by a handwritten sign saying Slipway….so we decided to investigate…we needed to find an isolated spot as it was no longer possible to camp with or even near any other folk…we were like the holiday campers from hell as far as they were concerned and the regards that they held us in were not very high at all.
This road let to a boat builders yard….the two guys working there told us about a place further on down another road where we could camp….so we went down that road and came to a dirt road marked by another hand written sign saying Slipway.
That road led to Giangurra and a beach….there were a few houses there and a carpark and a rest area with toilet block and running water….no one there…it was ideal…oh except the sign with a picture on it of a black Crocodile and the words DANGER and Achtung. We had started setting up the tent when Michael turned up and showed us how to do the post holes properly. He told us he was from Yarrabah and that this land was the traditional land…and owned by them, of his wife Nancy’s tribe. We asked if we could meet her and the rest of the clan, which we did. We introduced ourselves as refuges from the beginning and end of time and asked them for permission to camp on their land. We explained our predicament to them and they were kool about it. We all became good friends after that….we used to give Michael and the children money for helping us move our stuff and set up camp several times over the next 11 days. Michael also scored some Hoochy which I used to smoke with Cecil…an elder of the tribe and Nancy’s stepfather. It was like smoking the peace pipe….sitting on the beach…not too close and at low tide…. talking about the dream time and time travel, snakes in the sky, 2012 predictions, totem animals, music we loved and films we had seen. I told Cecil a story about an African man who had followed a lion all over Africa and that he looked like him…and he did…and Cecil remembered it. A group of young guys who partied every night joined us…one boy…one of my maori ancestors tried to scare me with stories about how the maoris were cannibals ect…and I said…yeah well I probably…. used to be… maybe…was….a cannibal too… in a distant life that I cannot remember or didn‘t know about. The guys all used to gather nearby at night and play music extremely loudly until the early hours and shout and carry on and get drunk but they never once bothered us and we never bothered them….it was their land.
And…..one of the best things about Giangurra was how well Charlie fitted it. From the minute we arrived he was off his lead and free to roam…ok this was not without danger…but you can’t keep someone a prisoner for safety reasons…indeed one of the first things Michael said to us was …’don’t keep your dog on a lead’….if the crocodile should wander by they cannot escape. None of the dogs were on leads and from the moment on Charlie was in heaven. For most of the day he was off playing with the other dogs. In the evening he would return to our tent, flop down exhausted and sleep like a baby for the rest of the night. He became particularly close to a mother dog and her two puppies who hung out near the car park area….by this time we had moved camp three times and were staying close to Nancy and family in relatively safe part of the beach… a little way up a track.
What happened was this…after the first night in the ‘relative’ safety of the rest area next to the car park…Michael and Nancy suggested we move to an area further up the beach that was set back from it and higher than it and somewhat sheltered by shrubbery….but even here, the local people would keep their camp fires burning outside their tents every night just in case.
Which reminds me…that very first night…a raging fire broke out…the whole of the street behind the car park and beyond seemed to go up in flames…at first I wasn’t too freaked out by it but as it encroached ever more scarily on my own particular domain I did get a bit nervy…twice I ran to Nancy’s tent and woke them up, blabbing on about the fire…they didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest….Nancy just said don’t worry, go to sleep….so I did….the next day you would never have guessed that a fire had ever been through there….no ashes, no burning embers …nothing…just a clear blue sky and a gentle breeze.
So the next day…after that first night….we moved our tent up the beach…through the lagoon and into another little section of the beach that was between the lagoon area and the waters edge. Quinton, a little boy of about 10, helped Rob set up the tent, while I unpacked the van….as it happens the only place where the ground was stable enough to stick the post holes into….in between shrubbery leading to the lagoon…. just happened to be smack bang in the middle of the mothers crocs route to the lagoon to visit her babies. By this time it was getting dark….i had sent the younger kids home while the tide as still low….about 100 metres down the beach. I was worried about Quinton, we needed his help, but I did not want him walking back along the beach at high tide or through the lagoon which was looking more and more dark and spooky with every passing moment….so we decided to stay on this beach but move out of the crocs direct path to the lagoon…I walked Quinton back and then returned and we hurriedly put up the tent near some shrubbery in a little corner of this beach. I used our backpacks and food storage boxes, the chairs and table, the gas bottles and cooktop… to form a barricade around the tent and also dragged tree branches around it…plus I padded the inside of the tent as Charlie was prone to sleep tucked up in the corner and the smell of dog is like waiving a red flag to a bull when it comes to crocs….
After that night I began using a pisspot in the tent because twice I had to get up in the middle of the night to take a piss…it was pitch black and both times I felt the presence of the crocodile nearby watching.
Edward paid us a visit that night, he came staggering up the beach, wandering far to close the water in my view. He was drunk and he wanted money to buy a cask of Sunnyvale white wine…the beveridge of choice among most of the folk at Giangurra…he stayed and had a smoke with us and ‘borrowed’ some money and left. As he staggered back down the beach completely oblivious to the crocodile threat……which he would waive away as being of little concern every time I broached the subject with him….i thought he is the crocodile man…
Lily….the crocodile on this beach was Edwards totem animal! …that’s why it never attacked him…and he was an old man…well a little older than me but he looked ancient…a bit like an old croc actually….he had lived there all his life. Is that luck? Just the other day a puppy belonging to Charlie’s friend, the mother dog, and which apparently looked just like Charlie in every way right down to identical spots, had been munched. The little puppy got too close to the water and the crocodile just leapt out and swallowed him whole….that’s why there were only two puppies when we arrived. One of them had been eaten by the croc.
That evening I spoke to the mother croc…I said “I am friendly person who doesn’t mind crocs…after all. And I absolutely promise you that I will not hurt your babies….if you don’t hurt me or Rob or my dog Charlie”.….i think she must have understood…..the next morning….there were numerous baby croc tracks all around the tent…but none of the mother croc.
That morning walking back up the beach to Nancy and Michaels area…one on Nancy’s friends looked at us incredulously when she found out where we had spent the night…she was shocked…she was looking at Rob and me as if we were completely bananas. I had not met her before but I had seen her…she had kept her distance…but now she was suggesting we move our tent up main tribes camping area…I am not being flippant when I say that I was touched by her concern.
Oh Lily…. I don’t know how I am going to explain this to you…the situation just gets worse...I am only telling you this because you may have to experience it yourself one day ……soon and then you might blame me because it was such an amazing bungle .. … =.l/?
Sigh…..we set the tent up between two lovely trees….i was thinking….i could put the hammock up between these trees and live here forever…it was such a lovely afternoon and the sun was setting…it was so beautiful…sigh…the waters covering the mudflats now…so pretty….! Guess What Lily….the water came right up to the tent…ok I am exaggerating… by high tide there was approximately one foot of space between our tent opening and the waters edge.
That night Jimbo and his woman set up camp near us….they had collected heaps of coconut husks and had a good fire going….that afternoon I had gone around collecting firewood and coconuts husks but not near enough to keep a fire going all night so I asked them if they could spare some and they did….so we did at least have a fire going….and a good one by the time the tide had come up completely….
Jimbo and I had been sharing surreptitious glances all afternoon…not of a romantic kind as such, rather one of …I know you are having problems with your man and vice versa….rather I knew also that relations between him and his woman, a Maori lass were very strained….that evening he had introduced himself to us primarily to express concern about our border security situation…he had suggested two more fires …one on either side of the tent…or that we sleep in the van…..now….we …we got out of the tent real quick I can tell you….it was a horrible night…the mattress was damp and smelly …the bed clothes were damp and horrible….rob chain smoked all night and I got asthmas…Charlie kept on wanting to go outside …that or he was chewing on my shoes or something…I lost so much stuff to charlies chewings…very depressing….there was a bit of yelling going on between rob and me at Giangurra but it didn’t phase any of the locals at all….if anything they were bemused and amused by it all…in any case it was not as if they were without their random flare ups.
Earlier that afternoon, Rob appeared to be in a daze…he kept on wandering too close to the water’s edge and I forever had to yell out to him to get away from the water…I was trying to organise the tent and becoming more and more exasperated by the minute. It was as bit like being the mother of two hopelessly out of control, danger mouse, space cadet, children with this enormous, ferocious, carnivorous, prehistoric, predatory, coldblooded monster on the loose. I was sick of it. Charlie was also out there gallivanting with the mother dog and her babies. I said to Rob that night in the van…yes we had to sleep in the van that night…on the mattress Charlie had pissed on… I said….i know I can’t complain…is this not the place we have been searching for and here we are in …..paradise s ss
“Look Benny”… I said….”.i am sick of having to deal with this crocodile situation”...i finally said to him….”you might not care about being munched on by a crocodile…do you seriously not care about me having to deal with all the blood and gore should that eventuate….think about my sensibilities …er sensitivities for once!”
How can I describe it?…..‘this constant, nightmarish, crocodile menace” …. I wanted to go somewhere where I could just relax and not have to deal with it… rob felt the same way…..however the next day we moved the tent again and this time it was ok….and that’s where we stayed for the next 8 days or nights….
That morning after the two nights in a row crocodile situation…my unrestful and morose state was disturbed by a major screaming fit on the part of Jimbo’s woman…she was incensed that he had asked her to go and get the crab pots in…. He was flummoxed I could tell….she left in her car, in a fury, leaving him stranded at Giangurra…Jimbo didn’t live at Giangurra, he lived in Cairns… Jimbo knew everyone at Giangurra and was somewhat related to them but his woman had never been there. This was her first visit. He told me that he loved her very much and had stayed up all night keeping the fire going out of concern for her and that he had not slept all night. I got the impression he was genuinely bewildered by her reaction and very hurt….
We gave Jimbo a lift back into Cairns and he let us use his shower and his washing machine and we just hung out at his place that afternoon….then we went to McDonalds to find his woman…and find her we did….and get this she turned on us for helping Jimbo to find us….i just couldn’t believe that she was so angry…Jimbo was really upset about it.
The next few days were idyllic and quite unusual….as it turned out…..
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Estate of Oak Trees - A Prequel
Estate of the Oak Trees – A Prequel
Dearest, desperate, disparate, daring, dangerous, darling…endangered Lily….ok I am back…it is now September 23 or thereabouts…2012….excuses for not writing for so long…sorting out my papers recently I found a compilation of various diary entries written by one of our parallel selves...a hermaphrodite by the name of Sooty.
Sooty was living with Stevie her bisexual er…’friend’ at the Queenstown Oak Plantation…otherwise known as Beard. It appears that Sooty wrote about certain events that happened in KanaK after the pole shaft incident…hence the soot stains on both hands….here are some excerpts from that diatribe…
“ I wish someone would tell me what is going on…I cannot stand stuffing around on this computer…how am I supposed to know who I am talking to… I just want to know what happened…please will someone arrange to meet me somewhere and tell me in person to my face what is going on???…ring me on my mobile…this is my number 1313 266010…we can meet somewhere in Civic or Queenstown and you can tell me everything…I am sick of being left out of the loop with this …whoever is monitoring me is obviously interested in whatever juvenile perspective I might have about this situation. Over and out…I have told you all I know…I don’t even know what is happening most of the time…what time period are you from???...what time period am I from???..has the world been destroyed or not…Where am I???
Lily…it’s me Sandy Parker interjecting for a moment….sigh…Sooty was staying at a Good Samaritan Shelter for homeless and or deranged men…anyhoos…
Oh by the way I can’t publish any of this new material in Spanish on the ‘Day of Longboarding’ site because Steve’s mobileme ran out…and he doesn’t have the money to renew it…so I will find some other place…MySpace for instance or whatever…Please Stop putting me through the hoops…and the worst thing about all of this is I don‘t even know who it is that I am talking to…if anyone at all…all I can think…is that maybe I am being monitored and maybe that monitor is friendly but maybe not…ring me tonight if you can…NOW would be ok…introduce yourself as my long lost Sumerian relative.
Lily...it was a monitor lizard…Mal Con Tent…think of an Easter Island statue…look at the lady in the tent dress and remember me…and then look in the mirror….
Hello back again…I tried to email one of the Defenders from the Department of Defenders but it bounced back at me…so I have written a letter to the Prime Managerial Inquiry Line. I am hoping someone who knows something about this will get in contact with me….until then I will continue to demand answers from every single Statue of Authority I think of. Why am I constantly being followed and watched…don’t think I have not noticed all the supposed construction agents wandering about pretending to be busy.
What is it that I am supposed to do…I have given your people whatever information they need…all I know is what I know…I know there are people out there who know more than me…and I know I am being blocked from finding out what they know….and this is after I have told them, everything I know!!!
The main problem is that well…I just need some help…I feel so overwhelmed sometimes…am I the only person this has happened to?
…sigh…really boring … (sandy interjecting here)
This is what I want to know… First off…. are the monitors from the same time line as me? What happened to the world?? Are there other people that this has happened to??? Was it an unexpected or an expected event???? Could I have died before that and gone into the future and then just suddenly reappeared in the past… or now….or whatever?????
….so boring….
Why is the location of the place that I live in so hard to find and why is it called Beard…off all ridiculous names?....not in my reality anyhoos...also why are people from some other reality trying to find me in the ocean? Also why is it that when I Google earth…I can’t find Kanak on the map or evidence of any civilization at all. Please believe me…I am not going bananas…I am completely sane…I swear it…I promise you I am telling you the truth.
…sigh…Sandi here….the truth is Lily, Sooty was making these heartfelt beseeching’s to the hominids from Africa….Australopithecus Afarensis, Homo Habilis, Neanderthal man…to name a few…also lizards, a crocodile… potatoes…. sea creatures of one type or another... but she wasn’t to know…
…also there is something else that I am having a hard time coming to grips with…I remember once while living in the city of Kanak….one day everything was different…it was not real…it was like a dream….i saw a pigeon about to be run over and I screamed…it was as if the streets were empty and echoing…I felt like a ghost in a ghost town or did I just imagine the whole thing? I feel like I have been a ghost for a long time…I walk around crying and ringing my hands…my lost boys, Danton and Nico were there…they just could not comprehend my situation…one night we had a huge fight and they left…
In one time, the world ended…in another time…it is about to end…for me it has already happened….the light is different here…when I see my friends I wonder if they are dreaming or
I am.
I am so confused….i am beseeching you from the deepest most sorrowful depths of my heart…from one lost and confused soul to another…someone who is feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders to guide me through these dark times as I try to guide you…whoever you are…I can’t see you but I know you know things about me.
I want to have a face to face to face meeting with someone who has a face and who is not from the other side who will tell me everything they know that I don’t…why is that such an unreasonable request? What is the purpose of this incessant subterfuge? I am sick of it. Just tell me!
This is my number 0307195999…or try this one…666999 or this one 666666 or 999999 or 101 or 010010 or 000000000…as soon as possible please!!! Whatever you do…don’t ring me on this number…2221930…not if you want to wind up in Hiroshima or Nagasaki in any case…coz that is where they dropped the atom bomb and that Lily was the beginning of all of our problems but not the end ok.
Another thing…I hate stuffing around with computer gadgetry…too much information…brain overload…I get my information from holographic representations not from the new papers ok….did I say that?
Lily…this is so incredibly boring that I am going to skip over some of it….
With regards to the computers and disinformation agencies….there are now too many secret portals and secret gateways ect ect and I cannot keep up with them all …besides who knows what enclaves and in what time lines they are attached too….i really wanted to join the community room for example but guess what my password did not work…not only that but I could not get into any of my own web portals because guess what all my passwords had been changed…this happened so many times that I lost track of them completely…meanwhile unscrupulous offers are made to me… gamblers and astrologers contact me with urgent messages…one day in civic…at the CupCake Shop…I was urgently trying to relay a message to another construction agent from the Department of Defenders. I am not being fanciful when I say that banana soldiers had been leaving me secret messages by way of stick on notes at pedestrian crossings. While all of this is going on someone or something loaded a jamster thingie onto my phone which was somehow blocking my messages and diverting them to these childish games and stupid ringtones, celebrity gossip ect…by the time I realized what was going on…I owed the telephone company which orchestrated this mega ripoff hundreds of dollars…for the use of their service…what the f..k?
Lily I tell you this is one fucked up town.
Lily…i am wading through Sooty’s ramblings trying to make them sound more interesting than they really are…. when it hit me….You are Sooty….I can just imagine you rolling around on the floorboards of that dilapidated old house of yours… covering your ears with a pillow going lalalalalalala….especially when you find out about the porn movies they made out of Sooty’s private relations with Stevie . Do you know that Sooty and Stevie were actually filmed in an upside down embrace so that the reptilians could jerk of about them?... and that this illicit film was used as an excuse to fire them from their job looking after lost munchkins…I don’t have to tell you what happened to those munchkins after Sooty and Stevie got the sack.
Ok get a grip Lily…I know how much you love your hairs….Sooty shaved the back of her head so that when viewed from behind, she looked like an elephant…later when ….Rob and I returned from our holiday to lava mountain….i was wearing sack cloth….thanks for nothing you fucking mattress whore.
Guess what?... a sabre tooth black cat has moved in to my apartment…she’s very nice and well behaved.
As regards Sooty….just before Sooty turned up in the oak plantation where Rob had fled after his….one of his huge…one of our horrible fights…she had a major freak-out…
Oh my god this is so embarrassing…Sooty read a story in the bible about a woman called Susannah who was violated by two horrible men in the gardens of her palace...when she tried to tell Rob about it, he acted dumbfounded….later….another day after Rob had moved out…she decided to confront a priest re: the rewriting of the bible or rather parts thereof…… two construction agents followed her to the Lutheran Church and…she tried to explain the situation….later in the carpark…she saw her friend from the Latvian Quarter who drove her to another church in another part of town.
Here is another excerpt from Sooty’s diary…..I would very much like to meet with Daryl the organ player who just happened to be playing the organ at St John’s Church that day….I went to three churches that day and…..
Dearest, desperate, disparate, daring, dangerous, darling…endangered Lily….ok I am back…it is now September 23 or thereabouts…2012….excuses for not writing for so long…sorting out my papers recently I found a compilation of various diary entries written by one of our parallel selves...a hermaphrodite by the name of Sooty.
Sooty was living with Stevie her bisexual er…’friend’ at the Queenstown Oak Plantation…otherwise known as Beard. It appears that Sooty wrote about certain events that happened in KanaK after the pole shaft incident…hence the soot stains on both hands….here are some excerpts from that diatribe…
“ I wish someone would tell me what is going on…I cannot stand stuffing around on this computer…how am I supposed to know who I am talking to… I just want to know what happened…please will someone arrange to meet me somewhere and tell me in person to my face what is going on???…ring me on my mobile…this is my number 1313 266010…we can meet somewhere in Civic or Queenstown and you can tell me everything…I am sick of being left out of the loop with this …whoever is monitoring me is obviously interested in whatever juvenile perspective I might have about this situation. Over and out…I have told you all I know…I don’t even know what is happening most of the time…what time period are you from???...what time period am I from???..has the world been destroyed or not…Where am I???
Lily…it’s me Sandy Parker interjecting for a moment….sigh…Sooty was staying at a Good Samaritan Shelter for homeless and or deranged men…anyhoos…
Oh by the way I can’t publish any of this new material in Spanish on the ‘Day of Longboarding’ site because Steve’s mobileme ran out…and he doesn’t have the money to renew it…so I will find some other place…MySpace for instance or whatever…Please Stop putting me through the hoops…and the worst thing about all of this is I don‘t even know who it is that I am talking to…if anyone at all…all I can think…is that maybe I am being monitored and maybe that monitor is friendly but maybe not…ring me tonight if you can…NOW would be ok…introduce yourself as my long lost Sumerian relative.
Lily...it was a monitor lizard…Mal Con Tent…think of an Easter Island statue…look at the lady in the tent dress and remember me…and then look in the mirror….
Hello back again…I tried to email one of the Defenders from the Department of Defenders but it bounced back at me…so I have written a letter to the Prime Managerial Inquiry Line. I am hoping someone who knows something about this will get in contact with me….until then I will continue to demand answers from every single Statue of Authority I think of. Why am I constantly being followed and watched…don’t think I have not noticed all the supposed construction agents wandering about pretending to be busy.
What is it that I am supposed to do…I have given your people whatever information they need…all I know is what I know…I know there are people out there who know more than me…and I know I am being blocked from finding out what they know….and this is after I have told them, everything I know!!!
The main problem is that well…I just need some help…I feel so overwhelmed sometimes…am I the only person this has happened to?
…sigh…really boring … (sandy interjecting here)
This is what I want to know… First off…. are the monitors from the same time line as me? What happened to the world?? Are there other people that this has happened to??? Was it an unexpected or an expected event???? Could I have died before that and gone into the future and then just suddenly reappeared in the past… or now….or whatever?????
….so boring….
Why is the location of the place that I live in so hard to find and why is it called Beard…off all ridiculous names?....not in my reality anyhoos...also why are people from some other reality trying to find me in the ocean? Also why is it that when I Google earth…I can’t find Kanak on the map or evidence of any civilization at all. Please believe me…I am not going bananas…I am completely sane…I swear it…I promise you I am telling you the truth.
…sigh…Sandi here….the truth is Lily, Sooty was making these heartfelt beseeching’s to the hominids from Africa….Australopithecus Afarensis, Homo Habilis, Neanderthal man…to name a few…also lizards, a crocodile… potatoes…. sea creatures of one type or another... but she wasn’t to know…
…also there is something else that I am having a hard time coming to grips with…I remember once while living in the city of Kanak….one day everything was different…it was not real…it was like a dream….i saw a pigeon about to be run over and I screamed…it was as if the streets were empty and echoing…I felt like a ghost in a ghost town or did I just imagine the whole thing? I feel like I have been a ghost for a long time…I walk around crying and ringing my hands…my lost boys, Danton and Nico were there…they just could not comprehend my situation…one night we had a huge fight and they left…
In one time, the world ended…in another time…it is about to end…for me it has already happened….the light is different here…when I see my friends I wonder if they are dreaming or
I am.
I am so confused….i am beseeching you from the deepest most sorrowful depths of my heart…from one lost and confused soul to another…someone who is feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders to guide me through these dark times as I try to guide you…whoever you are…I can’t see you but I know you know things about me.
I want to have a face to face to face meeting with someone who has a face and who is not from the other side who will tell me everything they know that I don’t…why is that such an unreasonable request? What is the purpose of this incessant subterfuge? I am sick of it. Just tell me!
This is my number 0307195999…or try this one…666999 or this one 666666 or 999999 or 101 or 010010 or 000000000…as soon as possible please!!! Whatever you do…don’t ring me on this number…2221930…not if you want to wind up in Hiroshima or Nagasaki in any case…coz that is where they dropped the atom bomb and that Lily was the beginning of all of our problems but not the end ok.
Another thing…I hate stuffing around with computer gadgetry…too much information…brain overload…I get my information from holographic representations not from the new papers ok….did I say that?
Lily…this is so incredibly boring that I am going to skip over some of it….
With regards to the computers and disinformation agencies….there are now too many secret portals and secret gateways ect ect and I cannot keep up with them all …besides who knows what enclaves and in what time lines they are attached too….i really wanted to join the community room for example but guess what my password did not work…not only that but I could not get into any of my own web portals because guess what all my passwords had been changed…this happened so many times that I lost track of them completely…meanwhile unscrupulous offers are made to me… gamblers and astrologers contact me with urgent messages…one day in civic…at the CupCake Shop…I was urgently trying to relay a message to another construction agent from the Department of Defenders. I am not being fanciful when I say that banana soldiers had been leaving me secret messages by way of stick on notes at pedestrian crossings. While all of this is going on someone or something loaded a jamster thingie onto my phone which was somehow blocking my messages and diverting them to these childish games and stupid ringtones, celebrity gossip ect…by the time I realized what was going on…I owed the telephone company which orchestrated this mega ripoff hundreds of dollars…for the use of their service…what the f..k?
Lily I tell you this is one fucked up town.
Lily…i am wading through Sooty’s ramblings trying to make them sound more interesting than they really are…. when it hit me….You are Sooty….I can just imagine you rolling around on the floorboards of that dilapidated old house of yours… covering your ears with a pillow going lalalalalalala….especially when you find out about the porn movies they made out of Sooty’s private relations with Stevie . Do you know that Sooty and Stevie were actually filmed in an upside down embrace so that the reptilians could jerk of about them?... and that this illicit film was used as an excuse to fire them from their job looking after lost munchkins…I don’t have to tell you what happened to those munchkins after Sooty and Stevie got the sack.
Ok get a grip Lily…I know how much you love your hairs….Sooty shaved the back of her head so that when viewed from behind, she looked like an elephant…later when ….Rob and I returned from our holiday to lava mountain….i was wearing sack cloth….thanks for nothing you fucking mattress whore.
Guess what?... a sabre tooth black cat has moved in to my apartment…she’s very nice and well behaved.
As regards Sooty….just before Sooty turned up in the oak plantation where Rob had fled after his….one of his huge…one of our horrible fights…she had a major freak-out…
Oh my god this is so embarrassing…Sooty read a story in the bible about a woman called Susannah who was violated by two horrible men in the gardens of her palace...when she tried to tell Rob about it, he acted dumbfounded….later….another day after Rob had moved out…she decided to confront a priest re: the rewriting of the bible or rather parts thereof…… two construction agents followed her to the Lutheran Church and…she tried to explain the situation….later in the carpark…she saw her friend from the Latvian Quarter who drove her to another church in another part of town.
Here is another excerpt from Sooty’s diary…..I would very much like to meet with Daryl the organ player who just happened to be playing the organ at St John’s Church that day….I went to three churches that day and…..
Sunday, August 26, 2012
astral hill
More on that later
I am uncovering some more hidden truths about my situation….it is now August 2012. In 2010 Rob Warren McWallace and myself travelled to Spain. On April 17, 2010… we left Roncesvalles…an ancient town in the Pyranees…on a pilgrimage that would take us across the north of Spain, from the mountains in the west, on the border with France to Santiago in the East about 100 k from Finisterre on the Atlantic Coast. It was in Zubiri, I think that we found out that a volcano had erupted in Iceland. According to my diary the next place we stopped at was Pamplona…but I know this can’t be true…there were stops in between. Curiously these stops were made but in reverse.
Excerpt from diary April 22 2012
On the way to Villamayarde Monjardin…I wrote this at the top of the age…he was walking one way and we the other…as we passed he stepped into the mud so we could pass freely….
I remember that guy, he was dressed like a medieval monk…he was wearing a brown ‘sackcloth’ tunic and brown sandals and drenched with rain. I found out from some other pilgrims …that he was on his way back from Santiago. He went there and back. He was walking in the opposite direction. We crossed paths. He was from another era.
“I feel much more at peace today ect….passed a pilgrim in brown robes who had walked from Jerusalem to Santiago. Stopped at a bustop outside Estella. We made cheese rolls. We realise we have made a wrong turn and have to turn back…am wearing my blue plastic poncho 1st…ine or something. I am not bothered, just going with the flow, constant rain, drizzle, not heavy. Ben and I had a long discussion about the ‘reptilians’ and how to combat them…I collected rocks on the way. I left a large blue rock in Lorca that was too heavy to carry…to my regret…later on the Camino provided me with an identical rock in miniature. Found a rock with an A on it.
At Villamayorde I sent postcards…mainly to the Italians and to some of the reptilians. I purchased cigarettes and batteries. Dreams last night…I am in the guest wing of a dream house half demolished, half under construction…work going on outside of the house…deconstruction. I visit Antoin at his house …he was my boss at the fruit and veg shop and also my er…‘close friend’. He is not there but Fionella his ex girlfriend is. She is a giantess! She shows me to his room…it is a mess…a foam mattress is on the floor and on it several pairs of women’s underpants and a fake vagina. Fionella says ‘check out these ones’ and shows me a pair of white lace underpants that look just like my favourite ones except that these ones are huge. Fionella and I look at eachother with an expression like eowh….i asked Fionella what it was that he really wanted and she just said this and thrust out her breasts…which looked really, really big”.
And then the next entry or should I say, come the next day…Day 6 I am on my way to Los Arcos…the date April 23, 2010…”the Camino yielded many rocks today, fewer than yesterday…when we left Cizur Minor we had an argument that morning leaving Pamplona…re him not noticing the street stall where I had lost my magnifying glass….again found no rocks…after we had made up and were climbing the hill I found a rock in the shape of a scallop shell…the same hill where Saint James found a scallop shell way back when. Walked some of the way with Emilio and met up with Wolfgang and Mira at a restaurant in Villamayarde”
More on the camino later
Back in Australia around about June 19…the year 2010…I have moved…with Rob…into the spare room of his mothers house. It is in an annexe. It was very cold…the middle of winter…we had been in Paris where it had been summer. We spent nearly a whole month in bed. In early July…we moved back to this city…of Kanak…it was not known as that by me or anybody else at that time as I had not named the original, almost identical city that also existed there. It was around about the time I turned 51 on July 3. Rob was 43. Not young not old…at first I didn’t notice the strangeness as I was completely preoccupied with decorating and furnishing my apartment . Rob and I had, had many talks about electromagnetic pollution and cell phone microwaves and we saw that message on the common’s bridge…one thing led to another …soon the apartment was turned into an orgonite accumulator workshop. For months we hardly left the apartment except to go to Bunnings to buy more resin and fixer or to top dollar to buy glitter and glue…also Fyshwick for steel scrapings.
The whole apartment and subsequently the rest of the hotel… via the air conditioning became suffused with the smell of chemicals. I was constantly inhaling it and getting it on my hands…it was very difficult to get it off…and I think I must have absorbed a lot of it. Eventually there were complaints and the manager banned us from doing it…a letter went out to all the residents of the hotel that no noxious chemicals would be allowed in. One day I was in Fyshwick in the back seat of Rob’s old blue car when I became very, very sick and fainted.
Later, it is Spring. Rob and I have begun some serious explorations of this city following sightings of a praying mantis type of alien and aports…is that the word for it…an object or an item that appears out of nowhere. First there were strange writings on the pavement that I deciphered…these writings pertained to a black mountain, mists and signs. There were veiled warnings regarding sweeping up cigarette butts and others about broomsticks...and the health service. A strange parcel appeared and then other statues and dozens of small plaques about various events in the past…not mine… appeared on city walk. Huge colourful murals had been painted in alleyways… some like those in Tocumwal Lane depicting dragons and other apocalyptic visions. A huge garden with secret doorways appeared in Riverside Lane…Sancho and the cat bandits made an appearance, along with the pirates and other dubious characters. The monkey king proclaimed himself King of the Monkeys. Some people that I knew of were getting one eye scratched out, others had a missing hand. Later some people lost the use of their legs or lost them entirely or were born without any legs at all. A few folk got badly burnt in the basement or in their cars.
Around about that time I had a visit from my mother. I don’t want to go into the details about this because it freaked me out so much. Later on she accused me of burning down her garage…and yes I had threatened to kill her but I didn’t really mean it. Later when Danton and Nico had moved into the apartment, she became obsessed with my mental state and also with Danton’s. Rob’s mother was also obsessing about Rob’s mental state and so was my mother and so was I… the consequences of which involved us all in a mental illness debacle which involved numerous visits from the mental health crisis team and the police and basically left me a nervous wreck.
One day, watching a television news program in my bedroom I saw a documentary about a volcano that had erupted after the one in Iceland had erupted that April…It was in the month of October… I believe… but I am not 100 percent positive about that. It was a total extinction event…apparently.
Anyhoos fast forward to November…I became aware that Rob and I were being secretly filmed having supposed orgies…this may or may not have been orchestrated by the gay mafia brotherhood. Before long secret agents were also filming us and dare I say it following us and leaving messages that they were following us and that they knew that we knew they were doing that...for example near a very spooky building in an old but new part of the city that was being used to send messages via an outdoor escalator and the placement of window lights…someone had written a construction notice…it said…warning we are step shadowing you…
There were some truly hilarious moments, was I supposed to be scared of the Christmas tree or the three bearded angels. One day I was sitting in an outdoor café in Garema Place with Rob trying to have a relaxing time eating pizza. Then this ridiculous looking fake Christmas tree came circling around us. I was immediately suspicious so I made a big hoo ha about there being a hidden gun in it or something. Whoever or whatever kind of detection agent was operating it must have really been freaked out about their pernicious assassination plot being exposed like that. I saw the three bearded angels before they saw me. I hid in Safety Avenue and watched them cross London Circuit and vanish into a car park.
Rob and I had some terrible fights during those days. One time he smashed my favourite painting on purpose and pretended it was an accident. A few years before Lulu had found it by the side of the road in Newcastle. I was so upset I had a bath and drowned in it…unfortunately…really bad timing on my part…
Those were crazy days…more about them later. I was furious with Rob re his accusations that I was the jezebel from hell…I even went to the police to report him but there was no one there…just this sign on a witches hat…it said…Warning Cleaning in Progress… as in the floor? All I can say is this…if the floor of the police station had recently been mopped it must have happened a long time ago…so I left and wandered around for a bit. I bludged a cigarette of some aboriginal people and went home.
That night or near enough, after yet another screaming match with Rob about my supposed licentiousness at a party which I did not attend...apparently one morning after these events had taken place, my face turned orange…according to Rob…this was proof that I had been involved in a gang bang situation. Danton and Nico sprang to my defence and kicked Rob out. I did not see him for another ten days during which time the poles shifted and time stopped. We were not prepared for this. The boys were hungry and they expected me to supply them with food. Not only did I not have any food, I had no money. I had a pearl necklace that my mother had given me on my 21st birthday…which I pawned at cash converters…I was thinking I might get 500 dollars for them…but no pearls were out of fashion then…I got twenty dollars. Another time I found an Indian Takeaway food shop, which appeared out of nowhere…I explained my situation to the proprietor…that my children were starving ect. There were some slices of banana cake wrapped up in glad wrap. He unwrapped one of them and gave me half. Another time I stole some frozen pizza subs from a supermarket. God knows how they managed to stay in business… there weren’t any people around…sometimes none at all, sometimes only pigeons.
It was the longest long time …one night…I think December 2? I was incredulously watching news reports on the television, raging fires had broken out all over the world, a huge black mass of something was threatening to swamp the city of Mexico. Violent demonstrations and fires broke out in London, the like of which I have never seen…Charles and Camilla were attacked on their way to a charity event. For a few days I was hearing grinding noises…a heavy blanket of cloud settled over the city…by the time it had cleared…there were few stars left in the sky….without all the other stars, the southern cross hung over the city … the sky was like a dome…it felt unreal.
This is ancient history of course and I am well and truly over it…but history has a way of repeating and rewriting itself again and again and again…nine times in nine days…first off I noticed that the bible had been rewritten…or rather restored …the Book of Enoch for example…other sources of information came my way regarding the Sumerian Civilisation and the building of a temple.
I imagined that the Department of Defenders were leaving secret messages for me by way of neon lights above a gay bar. I made matching orgonite accumulators depicting images of Enki and Enlil…Sumerian gods… and took them to the Department of Defenders Headquarters…as an offering. Apart from the presence of three black crows or rather currawongs, the place was deserted…eventually a security agent came out to talk to me…I showed him the accumulators …he was bemused and I felt like an idiot…that was the first and last time I did that. I felt very, very alone….
After Rob left it became clear to me that I would soon have to leave my apartment as I could no longer afford the mortgage…despite the total breakdown of society, the absence of government, the absence even of a planet and people, the banks still wanted their money…effectively I was having to keep up mortgage repayments on an apartment that in reality did not exist in a city that was no more…that existed only in my memories…since I had no frame of reference for any other life but the one I had left behind…I found myself in this ridiculously tragic situation…facing financial ruin and homelessness in a netherworld ruled by multinational corporations…essentially in the same depressing situation that I found in life was now following me into the afterlife….this was not how it was supposed to be. I was enraged at first then I fell into a deep depression. Who were these invisible rulers who had found a way to enslave us…even in death. Meanwhile I am surrounded by robots or rather enemies constantly on my back about my lack of employment. Because I did not have the proper requisite job I was outcast.
Around about that time Julian Assange was in the news for leaking top secret information to do with the US military establishment and other things…I didn’t take much notice at first until I heard that he had been charged with sexual assault in Sweden.
As it happens I had read a story in the Canberra Times about sex laws in Sweden. The situation was this…the Swedes…who in my time had been associated with a much more free loving lifestyle…indeed…they were notorious for it...the Swedes had laws pertaining to sex in marriage…basically requiring married couples to get separate permission slips for each and every sexual position. Rape is deemed to have taken place in the absence of a permission slip for a specific sexual act, despite mutual consent…too weird…poor Julian…swept up in the time flux like me. Curiously we share the same birth date…July 3…only twelve years apart. The other story that caught my eye pertained to HAARP…High Altitude Aurora Ray Program? There had been a stuff up with HAARP in 1999 and forty years later they were still having to deal with it. By my reckoning only 11 years had passed since 1999…not forty.
I had a terrible falling out with my father...I asked if I could go and live on the farm in Yass for a while so I could get my act together…the answer was no. I hated my parents then…they seemed like stupid evil robots to me and unbelievably old…I was suspicious.
Fast forward two years or thereabouts. August 2012….Danton has been staying in my apartment…he has decided to go travelling and wants to pick up his stuff from the farm in Yass. Rob and I drive him there. At first I was reluctant to go into the house, but I was curious…My father was there with a neighbour…He actually seemed quite happy and surprised to see me or rather meet me and Danton. Seriously I don’t think he knew we even existed before then…even when Danton was living there a while back helping with mustering and what not…my father made some reference to some young fella who had been living there previously…too weird.
I noticed some photo albums on the coffee table…the albums were familiar to me…but not the photos. There were photos in that album that I had not seen before. In one of them taken in the front garden of the house I had lived in as a teenager, specifically 50 National Circuit Forrest….there was a photo of him, with a woman and a baby standing under a tree in the front garden….I asked him how many children he had when he was living there…he said three…but I was not convinced…it was like he just made it up. First off when we moved into that house in 1973, I was fourteen, my brother was twelve and my sister was six. Curiously in the background of this photo was a white Labrador…we never had a white Labrador. I asked him about this dog but he had never seen it or noticed it apparently.
I am uncovering some more hidden truths about my situation….it is now August 2012. In 2010 Rob Warren McWallace and myself travelled to Spain. On April 17, 2010… we left Roncesvalles…an ancient town in the Pyranees…on a pilgrimage that would take us across the north of Spain, from the mountains in the west, on the border with France to Santiago in the East about 100 k from Finisterre on the Atlantic Coast. It was in Zubiri, I think that we found out that a volcano had erupted in Iceland. According to my diary the next place we stopped at was Pamplona…but I know this can’t be true…there were stops in between. Curiously these stops were made but in reverse.
Excerpt from diary April 22 2012
On the way to Villamayarde Monjardin…I wrote this at the top of the age…he was walking one way and we the other…as we passed he stepped into the mud so we could pass freely….
I remember that guy, he was dressed like a medieval monk…he was wearing a brown ‘sackcloth’ tunic and brown sandals and drenched with rain. I found out from some other pilgrims …that he was on his way back from Santiago. He went there and back. He was walking in the opposite direction. We crossed paths. He was from another era.
“I feel much more at peace today ect….passed a pilgrim in brown robes who had walked from Jerusalem to Santiago. Stopped at a bustop outside Estella. We made cheese rolls. We realise we have made a wrong turn and have to turn back…am wearing my blue plastic poncho 1st…ine or something. I am not bothered, just going with the flow, constant rain, drizzle, not heavy. Ben and I had a long discussion about the ‘reptilians’ and how to combat them…I collected rocks on the way. I left a large blue rock in Lorca that was too heavy to carry…to my regret…later on the Camino provided me with an identical rock in miniature. Found a rock with an A on it.
At Villamayorde I sent postcards…mainly to the Italians and to some of the reptilians. I purchased cigarettes and batteries. Dreams last night…I am in the guest wing of a dream house half demolished, half under construction…work going on outside of the house…deconstruction. I visit Antoin at his house …he was my boss at the fruit and veg shop and also my er…‘close friend’. He is not there but Fionella his ex girlfriend is. She is a giantess! She shows me to his room…it is a mess…a foam mattress is on the floor and on it several pairs of women’s underpants and a fake vagina. Fionella says ‘check out these ones’ and shows me a pair of white lace underpants that look just like my favourite ones except that these ones are huge. Fionella and I look at eachother with an expression like eowh….i asked Fionella what it was that he really wanted and she just said this and thrust out her breasts…which looked really, really big”.
And then the next entry or should I say, come the next day…Day 6 I am on my way to Los Arcos…the date April 23, 2010…”the Camino yielded many rocks today, fewer than yesterday…when we left Cizur Minor we had an argument that morning leaving Pamplona…re him not noticing the street stall where I had lost my magnifying glass….again found no rocks…after we had made up and were climbing the hill I found a rock in the shape of a scallop shell…the same hill where Saint James found a scallop shell way back when. Walked some of the way with Emilio and met up with Wolfgang and Mira at a restaurant in Villamayarde”
More on the camino later
Back in Australia around about June 19…the year 2010…I have moved…with Rob…into the spare room of his mothers house. It is in an annexe. It was very cold…the middle of winter…we had been in Paris where it had been summer. We spent nearly a whole month in bed. In early July…we moved back to this city…of Kanak…it was not known as that by me or anybody else at that time as I had not named the original, almost identical city that also existed there. It was around about the time I turned 51 on July 3. Rob was 43. Not young not old…at first I didn’t notice the strangeness as I was completely preoccupied with decorating and furnishing my apartment . Rob and I had, had many talks about electromagnetic pollution and cell phone microwaves and we saw that message on the common’s bridge…one thing led to another …soon the apartment was turned into an orgonite accumulator workshop. For months we hardly left the apartment except to go to Bunnings to buy more resin and fixer or to top dollar to buy glitter and glue…also Fyshwick for steel scrapings.
The whole apartment and subsequently the rest of the hotel… via the air conditioning became suffused with the smell of chemicals. I was constantly inhaling it and getting it on my hands…it was very difficult to get it off…and I think I must have absorbed a lot of it. Eventually there were complaints and the manager banned us from doing it…a letter went out to all the residents of the hotel that no noxious chemicals would be allowed in. One day I was in Fyshwick in the back seat of Rob’s old blue car when I became very, very sick and fainted.
Later, it is Spring. Rob and I have begun some serious explorations of this city following sightings of a praying mantis type of alien and aports…is that the word for it…an object or an item that appears out of nowhere. First there were strange writings on the pavement that I deciphered…these writings pertained to a black mountain, mists and signs. There were veiled warnings regarding sweeping up cigarette butts and others about broomsticks...and the health service. A strange parcel appeared and then other statues and dozens of small plaques about various events in the past…not mine… appeared on city walk. Huge colourful murals had been painted in alleyways… some like those in Tocumwal Lane depicting dragons and other apocalyptic visions. A huge garden with secret doorways appeared in Riverside Lane…Sancho and the cat bandits made an appearance, along with the pirates and other dubious characters. The monkey king proclaimed himself King of the Monkeys. Some people that I knew of were getting one eye scratched out, others had a missing hand. Later some people lost the use of their legs or lost them entirely or were born without any legs at all. A few folk got badly burnt in the basement or in their cars.
Around about that time I had a visit from my mother. I don’t want to go into the details about this because it freaked me out so much. Later on she accused me of burning down her garage…and yes I had threatened to kill her but I didn’t really mean it. Later when Danton and Nico had moved into the apartment, she became obsessed with my mental state and also with Danton’s. Rob’s mother was also obsessing about Rob’s mental state and so was my mother and so was I… the consequences of which involved us all in a mental illness debacle which involved numerous visits from the mental health crisis team and the police and basically left me a nervous wreck.
One day, watching a television news program in my bedroom I saw a documentary about a volcano that had erupted after the one in Iceland had erupted that April…It was in the month of October… I believe… but I am not 100 percent positive about that. It was a total extinction event…apparently.
Anyhoos fast forward to November…I became aware that Rob and I were being secretly filmed having supposed orgies…this may or may not have been orchestrated by the gay mafia brotherhood. Before long secret agents were also filming us and dare I say it following us and leaving messages that they were following us and that they knew that we knew they were doing that...for example near a very spooky building in an old but new part of the city that was being used to send messages via an outdoor escalator and the placement of window lights…someone had written a construction notice…it said…warning we are step shadowing you…
There were some truly hilarious moments, was I supposed to be scared of the Christmas tree or the three bearded angels. One day I was sitting in an outdoor café in Garema Place with Rob trying to have a relaxing time eating pizza. Then this ridiculous looking fake Christmas tree came circling around us. I was immediately suspicious so I made a big hoo ha about there being a hidden gun in it or something. Whoever or whatever kind of detection agent was operating it must have really been freaked out about their pernicious assassination plot being exposed like that. I saw the three bearded angels before they saw me. I hid in Safety Avenue and watched them cross London Circuit and vanish into a car park.
Rob and I had some terrible fights during those days. One time he smashed my favourite painting on purpose and pretended it was an accident. A few years before Lulu had found it by the side of the road in Newcastle. I was so upset I had a bath and drowned in it…unfortunately…really bad timing on my part…
Those were crazy days…more about them later. I was furious with Rob re his accusations that I was the jezebel from hell…I even went to the police to report him but there was no one there…just this sign on a witches hat…it said…Warning Cleaning in Progress… as in the floor? All I can say is this…if the floor of the police station had recently been mopped it must have happened a long time ago…so I left and wandered around for a bit. I bludged a cigarette of some aboriginal people and went home.
That night or near enough, after yet another screaming match with Rob about my supposed licentiousness at a party which I did not attend...apparently one morning after these events had taken place, my face turned orange…according to Rob…this was proof that I had been involved in a gang bang situation. Danton and Nico sprang to my defence and kicked Rob out. I did not see him for another ten days during which time the poles shifted and time stopped. We were not prepared for this. The boys were hungry and they expected me to supply them with food. Not only did I not have any food, I had no money. I had a pearl necklace that my mother had given me on my 21st birthday…which I pawned at cash converters…I was thinking I might get 500 dollars for them…but no pearls were out of fashion then…I got twenty dollars. Another time I found an Indian Takeaway food shop, which appeared out of nowhere…I explained my situation to the proprietor…that my children were starving ect. There were some slices of banana cake wrapped up in glad wrap. He unwrapped one of them and gave me half. Another time I stole some frozen pizza subs from a supermarket. God knows how they managed to stay in business… there weren’t any people around…sometimes none at all, sometimes only pigeons.
It was the longest long time …one night…I think December 2? I was incredulously watching news reports on the television, raging fires had broken out all over the world, a huge black mass of something was threatening to swamp the city of Mexico. Violent demonstrations and fires broke out in London, the like of which I have never seen…Charles and Camilla were attacked on their way to a charity event. For a few days I was hearing grinding noises…a heavy blanket of cloud settled over the city…by the time it had cleared…there were few stars left in the sky….without all the other stars, the southern cross hung over the city … the sky was like a dome…it felt unreal.
This is ancient history of course and I am well and truly over it…but history has a way of repeating and rewriting itself again and again and again…nine times in nine days…first off I noticed that the bible had been rewritten…or rather restored …the Book of Enoch for example…other sources of information came my way regarding the Sumerian Civilisation and the building of a temple.
I imagined that the Department of Defenders were leaving secret messages for me by way of neon lights above a gay bar. I made matching orgonite accumulators depicting images of Enki and Enlil…Sumerian gods… and took them to the Department of Defenders Headquarters…as an offering. Apart from the presence of three black crows or rather currawongs, the place was deserted…eventually a security agent came out to talk to me…I showed him the accumulators …he was bemused and I felt like an idiot…that was the first and last time I did that. I felt very, very alone….
After Rob left it became clear to me that I would soon have to leave my apartment as I could no longer afford the mortgage…despite the total breakdown of society, the absence of government, the absence even of a planet and people, the banks still wanted their money…effectively I was having to keep up mortgage repayments on an apartment that in reality did not exist in a city that was no more…that existed only in my memories…since I had no frame of reference for any other life but the one I had left behind…I found myself in this ridiculously tragic situation…facing financial ruin and homelessness in a netherworld ruled by multinational corporations…essentially in the same depressing situation that I found in life was now following me into the afterlife….this was not how it was supposed to be. I was enraged at first then I fell into a deep depression. Who were these invisible rulers who had found a way to enslave us…even in death. Meanwhile I am surrounded by robots or rather enemies constantly on my back about my lack of employment. Because I did not have the proper requisite job I was outcast.
Around about that time Julian Assange was in the news for leaking top secret information to do with the US military establishment and other things…I didn’t take much notice at first until I heard that he had been charged with sexual assault in Sweden.
As it happens I had read a story in the Canberra Times about sex laws in Sweden. The situation was this…the Swedes…who in my time had been associated with a much more free loving lifestyle…indeed…they were notorious for it...the Swedes had laws pertaining to sex in marriage…basically requiring married couples to get separate permission slips for each and every sexual position. Rape is deemed to have taken place in the absence of a permission slip for a specific sexual act, despite mutual consent…too weird…poor Julian…swept up in the time flux like me. Curiously we share the same birth date…July 3…only twelve years apart. The other story that caught my eye pertained to HAARP…High Altitude Aurora Ray Program? There had been a stuff up with HAARP in 1999 and forty years later they were still having to deal with it. By my reckoning only 11 years had passed since 1999…not forty.
I had a terrible falling out with my father...I asked if I could go and live on the farm in Yass for a while so I could get my act together…the answer was no. I hated my parents then…they seemed like stupid evil robots to me and unbelievably old…I was suspicious.
Fast forward two years or thereabouts. August 2012….Danton has been staying in my apartment…he has decided to go travelling and wants to pick up his stuff from the farm in Yass. Rob and I drive him there. At first I was reluctant to go into the house, but I was curious…My father was there with a neighbour…He actually seemed quite happy and surprised to see me or rather meet me and Danton. Seriously I don’t think he knew we even existed before then…even when Danton was living there a while back helping with mustering and what not…my father made some reference to some young fella who had been living there previously…too weird.
I noticed some photo albums on the coffee table…the albums were familiar to me…but not the photos. There were photos in that album that I had not seen before. In one of them taken in the front garden of the house I had lived in as a teenager, specifically 50 National Circuit Forrest….there was a photo of him, with a woman and a baby standing under a tree in the front garden….I asked him how many children he had when he was living there…he said three…but I was not convinced…it was like he just made it up. First off when we moved into that house in 1973, I was fourteen, my brother was twelve and my sister was six. Curiously in the background of this photo was a white Labrador…we never had a white Labrador. I asked him about this dog but he had never seen it or noticed it apparently.
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