Thursday, October 6, 2011

Positive Energy

It came come in many ways. It may be self-induced, it may come from someone that really cares about your well being, even from bad things that have happened to someone else. Whatever the route, it is essential in maintaining a good self esteem. I have a younger brother that has done for me more than he will ever realize. The one thing that he used to say to me when shit crumbled around me was this, "Do good and good things will happen to you." It is a simple statement that carries a lot of weight. It is another way of saying what most of us learned as a child, "The Golden Rule." "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I remember learning it in Vacation Bible School. You may have learned it in some other fashion. My brother was persistent in reminding me of this simple, yet, powerful statement. The problems that I have faced over three decades had only created more problems. When I found that narcotics alleviated my mental as well as physical pain, I abused it to the point of deaths door. Then I would hear those words that my brother used to say to me, Do good and good things will happen. It took a long time for me to live those words. Well, I have been doing good and good things have been happening. No, great things. So, I want to take this time to tell my brother that he is the main reason of the good in my life. He did it out of love and I want to tell him that I was listening. It may not have seemed like I was, but I heard those powerful words. Now, I want to say thank you. Thanks for the belief in me and especially for those nine words. I love you, Bro theblogmeister

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Night Train

For the past 30+ years,less the past 7, I have been caught on a night train that had topped Donner Pass, on the border of California and Nevada, and began to pick up speed that nothing could slow it down. I tried 12-step meetings, self help books, you name it, I have probably tried it. The reason I was ruining my life can be contributed to one thing; PAIN. At first it was mental pain. The pain and guilt of reliving the day that I ended a man's life. There was not a day, or night, that those memories would fail to resurface. The toughest thing that I ever dealt with was the nightmares, night after night. Then, it snowballed, just like that train topping Donner Pass. The speed that train gained is comparable to the speed in which my life began to unravel. It was not long and the most important thing to me was narcotics. Narcotics are good for relieving physical pain just as well as emotional pain. I had to have them because you see, those were my weapons to fight the demon that was haunting me. When I could not find drugs to buy I would go to the emergency room and pull a scam on the doctors. It is amazing to hear a doctor tell you that you had some cracked ribs and the only treatment was to manage the pain. There are a lot of ER doctors I could get them in a heap of trouble but that, I cannot do. I also will not reveal the scam for fear of others that are drug seeking may do what I perfected. I should have been an actor. I really had a blast "performing" my injury. It worked every time. I was even admitted into a hospitals ICU for the weekend. Shots every 4 hours. By that time the train was out of control. The only way to stop it would be a concrete wall. Others on the train tried everything they knew to get it to stop. Nothing. Everybody gave up on me and bailed. Here I was, knowing where I was headed, and I rode that train for a long time. Alone. I knew the day was coming when I would kiss the concrete and I chose to ride on. Then it happened. August 24th was when I kissed the concrete. The ride was over. I had survived. It is a miracle, too. They put me on a bus, not an ambulance, and drove me to Kilby Correctional Center in Montgomery, AL. to begin serving a 20 year sentence. I hit it, hard. The main thing out of it all, I lived through the runaway night train. I am still living, just a day at a time, now. I will not get back on the night train. Please donate what you can. Thanks for listening. theblogmeister

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The Demon Lives

I have had a relatively quiet couple weeks until last night. Something woke me up in the middle of the night. I could not put my finger on what exactly it was. I do not remember a loud noise that usually is the reason for these late night awakenings. I sat there a few minutes to get my bearings. When I stood up it felt as if I was standing on the deck of a ship tossing at sea. I reached out to hold onto the bed to keep from falling. I thought for a minute that we were having an earthquake. The tossing lasted only 30 or 40 seconds but seemed a lot longer. My next guess was the colonel. I had not had any problems with him in a while. The house was dark but seemed to be illuminated by a strange light. I had no problem making my way through the house, I could see perfectly. That is when I heard a low deep voice. The same voice I remember over 30 years ago. It was the colonel. I could not make out what he was saying. It was odd that he would speak at all after the last time he spoke to me. I tried to find out where the voice was coming from. It was a constant moan like he used to do when he was my patient and was in a lot of pain. I walked into the den and the moan sounded like it was coming from where I was just standing. He is fucking with me, again. I walked the whole house and the moan always seemed to come from a room away. To hell with this, I am going back to bed, I decided. As I crawled in bed and closed my eyes the moan came from my bedside and it was so loud it scared the shit out of me. I jumped up and yelled, "Leave me alone!" For a second it was quiet and then the sound of laughter. I lay back down with laughter all around me. I finally dozed off and after waking up I asked Lorri if she heard anything that was strange last night. She heard nothing. theblogmeister

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Demons: An Historical Look

Demons are spirits that act malevolently against human beings. The Bible makes repeated mention of evil spirits (Lev. 16: 10; I Sam. 16:14-16; Isa. 34:14), including satyrs and night demons, but does not provide a great deal of detail. More elaborate stories about demons appear during the Greco-Roman period.
The existence of demons, while widely accepted, has always presented a theological difficulty. Since all things are ultimately the creation of the one God, the question of why should evil spirits exist has greatly exercised Jewish thought. Apocalyptic literature offers the first attempt to explain their existence in a monotheistic context by claiming demons are really fallen angels. Rabbinic literature provides the first extensive source for Jewish demonology, though the information is scattered though many sources. In it, several explanations for the existence of demons are offered. They are a creation of the twilight of the sixth day (Pirkei Avot 5.6). Abraham ibn Ezra described demons as a product of the interaction of sunlight with smoke and vapor which then clings to the body, causing illness (Sefer ha-Atzmim).
Demons cannot procreate on their own, so they used semen from Adam in order to make more of their own kind (B.T. Ervuin 18b; Zohar). An elaboration on this tradition is that Lilith, the first woman, having transformed herself into a witch-demon using the Tetragrammaton, takes the nocturnal emissions of men she seduces to procreate more demons (Alef-Bet ben Sira). In kabbalistic thought the demonic is a necessary part of creation, a product of the sitra achra, the "other side" of the divine emanations in the material universe.
Demons occupy an intermediate place between mortals and angels. According to Chagigah 16a, they resemble angels in three ways: They have wings, they can fly throughout the universe, and they hear what transpires in heaven. They also resemble mortals in that they procreate, eat, and die. They are always invisible, except under special conditions.
The malevolent effects of demons are many: they cause illness and death, especially for the vulnerable (children, women in childbirth); they trouble and deceive the mind, and cause contention in the community of mortals.
Tractate Berachot has perhaps the most information on demons of any part of the Talmud. There we learn that demons tend to dwell in the wilderness, in ruins, and in other places not by frequented by people (Isa. 13:21). It also describes a "diagnostic" ritual for detecting the presence of the demonic: Ashes spread around one's bed at nighttime will reveal demon tracks in the morning, and demons can be rendered visible by grinding up the ashes of a black cat's afterbirth and then sprinkle the powder in one's eyes.
The appearance of demons varies, but is always terrible. In keeping with Ancient Near Eastern beliefs about evil spirits, demons have bird talons for feet in addition to wings. At night, demons can appear in human form (Meg. 3a).
Demonic power waxes and wanes according to the time of day, the week, the seasons, meteorological conditions, topographical features, and other natural factors (Yalkut Chadash, Keshafim 56; Numbers R. 12:3; Pes. 3a-b, 112a; Shab. 67a). The informed can use this information to minimize their threat.
Around human habitations, they frequent rooftops, outhouses, and drainage gutters. Strangely, demonic forces are attracted to synagogues. The Angel of Death, for example, is said to keep his tools there. Stories of Sages doing night battles with demons in the synagogue appear in Jewish tales across time.
Prominent demons have names, usually derived from their particular power; Reshef, for example, means "pestilence." Some demons, like Samael, have theophonic names, like angels. Occasionally demons can have surprisingly mundane names, like "Joseph." The name Lilith means either "air" (Akkadian) or "night" (Hebrew) and has its roots in Mesopotamian aerial spirits called "lilu."
Reciting certain psalms has an atropopaic effect against evil spirits (Pss. 29: 91; 121), as do other key verses of Scripture (Num. 7:4-6). Magical phrases have also been recorded to combat their malevolent effects (Pes. 100a; 112a). The bells on the skirt of the High Priest evidently drove them away. Drinking water only from white containers turns away night demons (Pesachim 3a). Bercahot 5a credits ritual objects such as mezuzah, tefillin, and ritual fringes with warding off evil spirits. The Jews of Mesopotamia additionally protected their homes with Demon Bowls and Incantation Bowls. Temporary protection can be gotten through the use of magic circles. Amulets of near infinite variety have been created across Jewish history. Demons can be bribed with food or money, or frightened off with shofar blasts, unpleasant smells, or spitting. Guardian angels are the best defense, and are acquired every time one performs a mitzvah (Ex. R. 32).
Intriguingly, a mortal can work beneficently with demons, if one knows the rituals of power to control them. Asmodeus, the king of Demons, was co-opted by Solomon to good ends. Demons can be turned against other demons (Lev. R. 24). Sometimes the demon will do so willingly (Pes. 106a), but usually this involves controlling the demons magically and forcing the captured spirit to do the will of the adept. R. Eliezer of Metz (12th Century), permitted the use of demons in spells and amulets, writing, "Invoking the demons to do one's will is permitted" for what difference is there between invoking demons and angels?" At the same time, anything that smacks of demon veneration or worship, such as making offerings or burning incense to a demon, is expressly forbidden (Sanh. 65b). Another study on demons. What do you believe? theblogmeister

Demons and Angels

I have had my share with evil and I believe that it if it is not of God it is evil. I have been terrorized for over 30 years by a specific demon. God will not instill fear and torment into our lives. That is why I believe my encounter is with a demon. So, The only way to figure this one out is to gain knowledge. What is the demon's purpose on this earth? What powers does he have? The only way to answer these questions is to research the demon, find his beginnings, and what exactly he is capable of doing. I am being punished for a horrible act against God but does the punishment involve demons? This is only a part of what I have found, more to come, later.
Nearly every culture that has been recorded in the history of mankind has had some form or variation of demonic belief. Today the most widely recognized aspects of demonology are derived from Judaic, Christian and Catholic sources. Many archaic stereotypes presented within these religions, as well as the prolific historical inaccuracies long associated with fictional print and media, persist in spite of evidence to the contrary.
Most people today imagine short horns, leathery bat-like wings, long pointy tails and menacing pitchforks to be the common accepted image of demons in general, and Satan in specific. However, this is a far cry from how demons were presented in the past.
Initially, in many of the most ancient cultures of the past, demons were seen as having the capacity for both good and evil. The origin of the word demon, in fact, may have come from Indo-European sources and simply meant 'Celestial Body'.
There has often been confusion when regarding Devils and Demons in many Orthodox traditions. A Devil is an entity who usually fights a goodly and divine authority for control of existence. Many such battles will be settled in an 'End of Time' scenario where the forces of good vanquish the forces of evil.
Demons are much like Angels in that they are lesser beings who are usually under the authority of the prevailing Devil. They are always malevolent in nature, and seek to torment humans with their dark and wicked ways. The means by which they wreak havoc are threefold:

#1: In spiritual form they whisper evil thoughts into a person's mind, trying to corrupt them to do wrong.

#2: In spiritual form they restlessly wander the earth and torment others with their mere appearance.

#3: They actually possess someone and control their actions, usually causing them to harm others, or at the very least, themselves. This is called 'Possession', and even today it wreaks fear in many just by even mentioning it.
Another thing that is usually representative of demons in nearly every culture; they are usually grotesque in appearance, and more than likely half animal at least.
Perhaps one of the greater influences in restoring interest in demons and their study in the mid-20th century was Anton LaVey, the author of the Satanic Bible and the founder of the Church of Satan. LaVey believed that Christianity was a repressed religion, and the true power of Satanic belief was the lack of limits imposed on the believer. LaVey believed that man ought to have the supreme choice over his life, not a God, or any god.
Damned by the gods; feared by man; demons have made their home on earth, and they're here to stay. It seems that I am in a fight for my spiritual sanity. theblogmeister

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Confusion Rules

It seemed that every time that I do not write much about the colonel is when he is most active and angry. I have not spent much time writing about him. I spent several hours writing about the difficulties we are having. My wife and I. The Colonel must be jealous that he is not getting my undivided attention. He is in my dimension. I can smell him, the stench of death. An hour or so ago I went through the house to make sure the doors are locked and the lights off. As I made my way towards the bathroom the light was on. I distinctly remembering turning out the lights, except for the TV. Oh yea, I can feel his presence. He is among us. He is not through playing tricks on us, either. I turned the bathroom light off. I will have to walk around to see what else he does.As I was turning around I heard the sounds of a television. It was very faint but I knew exactly that the noise was. My colonel has turned on my television in the front room. He thinks all this is a game, I reached over and turn the TV back off. We have a screened in back porch and spend a lot of time out there because we don't smoke in the house. This is where most of things moving can be seen. My wife will not stay out here I have had tools raising in the air. I have seen shadows of him. Right now, I am going to crawl in bed with my wife.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The Hard Truth

I also believe that man could be evil and could wreak havoc to the likes you had never seen. I am a believer but I am confused what happened to those we do not know. My wife and I have been marriade for about 8 years. When we met, her children were grown, so was mine. She started coming to my house to take me to hers. We hit it off, immediately. Not long after we got together we started truck driving school. We got our CDL's, and after 6 weeks we left our trainer and got our own truck. We worked tpgether for about 2 years and my wife had to leave the truck for medical reasons, fibromyalgia. I worked for a couple years riding solo. Then I started have severe pain in my lower leg I hade to have a spinal fusion surgery. My wife just receive her social security disability and I only get half of my ss disability because my ex-wife gets almost half for back child support. That is not a problem. Both incomes were just over the limit my wife and I we are unable for them to, grant us Medicaid. We made $80 dolloars over the threshhold, so, I have to find a way to have my epidural injections. I went to the doctor, today, and I had to pay more that I was not used to paying. My office visit was $13 dollars. That is every other month. To get my epidural injection every other month I must pay a bill of $150. We are regular poeple who are having a hard time. I have had this blog since 2008. Please do not think that we are panhandling. We just need your help If you can donate, please. Thank you and God Bless Thanks, theblogmeister

Where Is The Evil?

If you believe in God then you must believe in Satan. For every action there is a reaction. Do you remember that statement? You must understand that at one time Lucifer was one of God's most trusted angels. Greed got the better of him and he wanted to be above God. What did God do? He cast Lucifer and a third of his following to earth. Where are they, now? In the beginning earth was a beautiful place and when God cast down Lucifer and his angels what was the one thing that God had created that Satan could want to ruin? Man had not been created, yet. The Bible states, "and the earth became without form and void." Earth was the only thing, at that time, that Satan could get back at God for kicking him out of Heaven. I do not believe this is the same earth that God had created for man. Satan changed it. Then when man was created God instructed Adam and Eve not to partake in the forbidden fruit. Guess who was there to change their minds? Yep, Satan. I believe every since the creation that Satan has not given up on changing God's plan. Why am I starting this post with this story? It proves to me that Satan and his angels still exist, today. It is Satan that convinces a young man to strap a vest made of high explosives and kill as many innocent men, women, and children as he possibly can. It is Satan that makes individuals fly a jet into the twin towers and kill thousands of innocent people. A man comes from God. Jesus, who was God manifested in the flesh, tells us to love our neighbor, not blow them up. What about the congresswomen from Arizona who was shot point blank in the forehead? Is that of God? No it is not. While the same angels that saved my Mother's life and comforted them after my brother died these are real. From what I have witnessed in the past several years Satan is not sitting back and doing nothing. He creeps into our lives through various means. To me, His favorite avenue to get to our youth is by using mood and mind altering substances. The number one is liquor and beer. Ethanol causes 50,000 deaths on our highway's. Most were impaired drivers on alcohol. Today, there are more youths drinking than ever before in our history. Now comes the drug many states have made legal. Marijuana, or Delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol, the active ingredient that causes the effect if the cannabinoid plant. Over ten states has made pot legal for medicinal value, only. So, I have a very liberal views on medicinal marijuana. I do not believe the propaganda in the late 1920's to the early 1930's. No, God would not waste his time with weed. The real problem facing our youth is the doctors who are quick at writing narcotics and do not care the damage is to our youth. Oxycontin and Roxie's are the most danger to our future. Don't think about all over are wounded warriors are becoming addicted before the leave Afghanistan and come back to a living hell.Do you believe that our soldiers are coming back broken? The statistics are mind blowing. I do not have here,now.I will get you some. My point is,there are good people in this world who have to look out for the broken. The Rangers motto, "Rangers Lead The Way" and they never leave one behind. Thank you, theblogmeister please donate

Alternate Dimensions

The trouble that I am having is how two beings occupy one universe. I have been face to face with someone who had died decades, earlier. I cannot take at face value that there is ghosts and spirits that are able to occupy the same world. Is it possible for the dead to be in a different dimension? Theoretical physicists have proven there are alternate dimensions. Could the colonel be caught up in a dimension that runs parallel to ours? That is the $60 dollar question. So, if parallel dimensions exist then there has to be a way to communicate. Was Enoch, the son of Methuselah, able to cross a dimension without experiencing death? The Holy Bible states exactly so. If Enoch or Elijah, for that matter, was able to reach a parallel dimension then why is it so impossible to believe that we, as human, cannot communicate with those that have reached another dimension. I know what I dealt with when two of my family died and I was able to speak to them. I continue to have interactions with the dead; the colonel. I cannot rule out what the quantum physicist have documented. They are a hell of a lot smarter than me. Keep an open mind and do not judge us as crackpots. Jesus was called a crackpot and you all know the outcome of that story.
Now, I am not a physicist, far from it. I can’t do complicated math at all, but I can think and reason things out. OK, we are energy beings and once energy is created it can never be destroyed according to physics. This being the case then when we die, we have to go somewhere. I have heard people say there can not be a heaven, or a hell, or any other place like them as we have been into deep space and there is no sign of it. That may be but are we so arrogant as the dominate species to believe that all realms have to be identical to ours and all beings have to be just like us? Now what if there are energy forms in a parallel dimension that we are aware of. They come through to us but we cannot enter their dimension in our current human state as flesh and blood. So only as an energy form would we be able to enter? If the soul, being the life energy of the body, can inhabit the body until the body ceases to be able to contain it, next it is released in a pure energy form then it stands to reason that it would be able to go to places where a human body could not get into. It is like trying to physically squeeze an orange through a straw. It will not work until you get rid of the body and then the juice will go through the straw with no problems.
Do I believe there is a soul? Of course I do. How could I not? We are taught as little children that the human body is a machine. Every machine has to have an energy source to make it run. The human body breaks down, can be mended or repaired and put back into the world but when it has reached critical mass, it melts down and ceases to be. Now, if there was no such thing as a soul, or an energy source, then what could keep the body running forever? We can keep old machines going as long as we have the parts so why not a human body? We sure have enough parts to keep them going but once they die no matter what you do they are dead, gone and can’t be restarted…ever. Why is this? The energy source of the body is no longer there and it has nothing more to run on.
People scoff at aliens, the soul, ghosts and so forth but I have to wonder. Could ghosts actually be inter-dimensional beings? Perhaps we run across the barriers once in a while and there is a clash or meeting between the two realms? It would make sense if everything is in accordance to the “M” theory that there would be meetings like these of parallel universes or dimensions. The life forms in these dimensions may be just as shocked and terrified of other energy encounters as we are.
There may be another one of you, somewhere in another universe, dimension, time or space. That is not to say that the person is the same as you. There may be different laws there, different morals and judgment values. The “you” may look like you but not act or be governed by the same rules that you are here. Knowing that the universes actually do exist is amazing in itself but the things that happen in them can be unlimited. It sure can explain a lot of the things that we deem paranormal Then I have to wonder how to cross the barriers of these dimensions? I believe it can happen and may have happened a few times like with JR. Tolkien who claims the Lord of the Rings was written off something he had seen. He claims to have stepped into an alternative reality and witnessed these things. Many other people have claimed to cross into these other realities but it is not something which happens frequently. Could it be some type of energy flux that allows this to happen? A vortex maybe or a smashing of the membranes that allows a temporary access to these realms?

This is something which I am sure some of the greatest minds will be churning over for a long time. I have a bachelors in life but hey, like I said a physicist I am not. I am just someone here who has a trillion things going through their head. Trying to imagine what these universes may be like, what rules they have, what life forms govern them and if it is possible that at times we collide with them.

I am just trying to figure out what is happening to me and why I was given extraordinary powers when I was so young. It saved my Mother's life and later it allayed the fears of my parents when we lost a close family member. It is real, I just do not understand why or how it works. Thank you for being a part of my day. the blogmeister One other thing, I really need your donations for medical not mental reasons. If you have a dollar please donate. Thank you for your help in dealing with my spinal fusion issues. theblogmeister

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

The Unknown

I was raised in church while I was growing up. My Father was the music director and had a wealth of knowledge about the Bible. We were southern Baptist and did not follow the liberal Baptist who believed in speaking in tongues, jumping up and down and other weird things. I am not mocking any religion and do not try to force my beliefs on others. If you don't believe in it, don't do it, is my basic belief. During my early teens I became very interested in the teachings of Paul. What intrigued me was how Paul was converted from killing Christians to becoming the most prolific writer in the New Testament. I have a base belief and I believe that is why I am struggling so much with what is happening to me now and past episodes of terror filled dreams, nightmares would be a better word. As I spoke about my first interaction with angels, yesterday, I want to relay to you another episode with spiritual beings. In 1989 I was a couple months shy of my thirtieth birthday. I received the horrible news that my best friend and older brother had been involved in a very serious automobile accident. My mother and I rushed to the hospital emergency room and was told by the ER staff that someone would be out to speak with us, soon. My mother sat in a chair in the ER waiting area while I stood at the sliding glass doors where you enter the emergency room. I could see a cubicle with a curtain pulled closed and I could see the feet of several staff. As the curtain opened as a staff member exited I noticed the patient was wearing MAST trousers. They are no longer used in the emergency medical field. It was an acronym for military anti-shock trousers. I knew in my gut that was my brother lying there and I knew it was very serious. I called all my immediate family and told them to get to the ER fast, it was Bubba and it doesn't look good. After about 45 minutes the doctor and a couple nurses came out and delivered a blow like none I had ever known. My brother, my best friend was dead. My mom sat down in total shock not saying a word. I, however, went ballistic. I punched all the glass out of the waiting room and ripped up chairs that were bolted to the floor. I was given a sedative and was taken back to have both arms sutured. I did not get any better when my Dad arrived and was given the news. My heart had been ripped out of my chest watching my Dad and how he handled the terrible news. It was march 3, 1989 and my faith came into question. Why would a loving God put such a good man as my Dad through the pain of losing his namesake? I did not understand why. The next morning at about 3am while my wife and small children were asleep my brother appeared to me and told me to tell Mom and Dad that everything was good. He was in a wonderful place. He had no more pain. I broke down and wept. To this day I wish that my brother would visit me, again. Maybe he has crossed over and is unable to come back. I also believe that the colonel has not, for some reason, not crossed over. He feels that I had betrayed him and he will haunt me, forever. I wish he would let it go. thank you theblogmeister please donate

Monday, August 1, 2011

Psyche Logos

I want to make it very clear to all of my readers about what I believe is going on inside my head. The truth is, I do not know. I believe there is the trinity of good, God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. There is also the evil trinity, Satan, false prophets, and the antichrist. I do believe that there are spirits that are capable of influencing the living. I have proof of that in the story I told of what happened to me when I was eleven. If you are not familiar with the story I will tell it, again. When I was eleven my three brothers and I were walking across the field to catch the bus when a voice inside my head told me to go back home. I listened to that voice and almost got a spanking for missing the school bus from my mother. She had no way to take me to school, so, I had the day off. At about lunch time I heard my mom screaming. I rushed into her room to find her on the floor grasping at her chest. We had the phone number of my Dad's employer and I called it and asked to speak with Herb Riley, and I told them that it was an emergency. The operator of the plant he worked asked for his extension. I had no idea what an extension was, however, I told the operator extension 36. My Dad was on the phone very quickly and I told him something was wrong with mom. He called the ambulance and came home just as the medics were pulling into the driveway. Who told me to go back home that day? It saved my mother's life. Who told me the extension of his work place? Whom ever it was is still a mystery. Remember what I said about every action there is a reaction? I have to believe that if there are spirits that do good then there has to be demons that do bad. Is the colonel a demon? He has not done good, so, I would have to say that he is a demon. What is his purpose? Those are questions that I cannot answer. He has to be evil to cause me to have so much fear, I do not think an angel would cause fear, rather, reassurance. I do not get reassurance from the colonel. Terror is his modus operandi. Was all this created in my head? Another question that I cannot answer. I will fight him with all that I have left in me. I cannot give up. please donate one dollar Thank you theblogmeister

Sunday, July 31, 2011


While I am having these nightmares, at least I hope that is what they are, I have been informed of some unsettling news. I have been terminated from Medicaid because my wife and I make $80 dollars over the limit for a couple. She just recently was awarded her disability thus the change in our income. Over the past year and a half I have been receiving caudal epidural injections in my back to relieve the pain in my leg caused by scar tissue resulting from 4 back surgeries. I have a half of a titanium screw because of defective surgical equipment still in my back. I refused to sue the doctor that did the surgery because he is a good man and was trying to do the right thing. My dilemma now is without medicaid I cannot afford to get the injections I so need very much. If I could get every one of my readers to donate one dollar I could continue with my injections for a year. I know there is some good in you all so I am asking for your help. Thank you, theblogmeister

Shadows In The Night

I wake up in the middle of the night to search my home to find the origin of the noises. I walk slowly in the dark _to find my front door wide open. I always check my doors before I go to bed. As I close and lock it a strange growling sound comes from the rear of the house. I reluctantly check the back porch to find no reason for the noise. I turn around and notice my bathroom light is on. It was not on when I passed by it on my way to check the sounds from the rear of my house. There is, once again, something very strange happening. I turn off the light and slowly move towards the front, again. I reached the living room and found my front door open, again. I lock it and start to leave when I hear the creaking of the front door. I was paralyzed by fear. I did not want to turn around. When I did the door was open, again. My heart was racing as I closed and locked it, again. I am writing this from my locked bedroom for fear of what I may find outside. Fear has gripped my soul. I cannot handle this much longer. My sanity is slipping. It is getting harder to distinquish what is real and what is a product of my imagination. Please, let this be a dream. Fear, sanity, are becoming indistinguishable. I am lost. theblogmeister

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Do You Believe?

Since my contact with the colonel I have been researching the subject of communicating with the dead. I have found many stories that are unique, in that they share something that I have been going through, speaking with the dead. Although, I did not actually speak with the colonel, I heard him speak to me. He must have felt my anger and booked. I do not want to open a door that I cannot close, but, I have to find closure in the haunting I am enduring. You read this story and make your own conclusion and send me your answer. Thanks, theblogmeister

The Story of Hi-Jack The Fisherman

During a time when I was young I was a commercial snapper fisherman. I was unskilled, and very young, so the only boats I could get a job with were the older more dangerous boats. As snapper fishermen we would go out for about a month at a time in the gulf of Mexico. I met a man that was also a fisherman, and he was very infatuated with my mother who tended a fisherman's bar near the marina.

His name was Jack, a hard core alcoholic and very jovial in nature. He was the kind of person who was always laughing, even when drunk (more so even). He was a gentle man and easy to get along with. We called him "hi-Jack" because whenever I saw him and said "Hi Jack" he would respond with a "High jack who?" in a loud humorous fashion. He loved my mother very much, though she had little to do with him.
We heard a rumor that Jack had died, he had fallen overboard while out at sea. We did not confirm it at the time, since we really were not very close to him, just an acquaintance. One night he came into a bar that I was in, it was only me and the barmaid (not my mom) since it was late and the bar was about to close. I was opening the door about to leave, when there he was in the doorway! What a surprise! I said "Jack I thought you were dead". He told me not to believe everything I hear, but he did NOT come right out and deny it either.
He was different, he had a more intelligent, deeper look in his eyes,and he held himself better, more confident, but not arrogant. I offered him a beer, which he took, but he never took a drink of it. Unusual since he was an alcoholic, even more unusual was the fact that he was sober late at night!
We sat at the bar, and he asked me how I was, but mostly he talked about my mother. He was very much in love with her and felt it important that I know that. He got up and left, walked down the street to the other bar, and that was the last time I saw him.
My mother had a similar experience, he walked into her bar (there were people there, not empty like the bar I was in), sat with her and had a long talk with her. After saying his "I have always loved you" speech, he took off heading for the marina.

The After Death Communication:

The next day my mother and I talked about this, and agreed that it was very odd. I later went to the fish house and asked about him, and sure enough he really had died! I later talked to Donna, the barmaid where I spoke to him, and she says he never was there and that I was sleeping at the end of the bar while she was preparing to close, and that no one sat with me...
The people that were in my mother's bar told my mother that during that time she was also alone, and had her head down at the bar, like she was resting or sleeping...
Could we both have had the same dream? Was it all in our minds? I don't think so, to me this profoundly convinced me that we do survive death, and that the dead can communicate.

Friday, July 29, 2011

He Is In My Head

Night after night I cannot get through one without visions of the demon of my past. He has chosen to take the route of the past trying to cause me to lose my sanity. Why? I did what was asked of me. It took the colonel weeks to convince me to do what he could not do himself. Do I get thanks for doing it? Hell, no. All I get is images of the torment and hell he put me through for years. He has followed me from Ft. Walton Beach, FL. to where I am, today. Can you call this a haunting. I believe it is exactly that. I hear tremendous noises that are loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep. I get up and examine my home. You should feel safe in your home. I do not. I had finally made contact with him and I sat on my couch as he sat on the other end. Was I dreaming? I really do not believe so. I could smell him, I could see him. I stared at him for what seemed like an hour and he finally spoke. "Why do you fear me?" You have got to be kidding. I blew a fuse. That question pissed me off. Then, he asked me the same thing, again. I let him have it, verbally. Now, he has chosen to be a coward, again. He has chosen to try to create fear in me. It works, too. I do not know what to do. He has moved things in my house. That, in itself, scares the hell out of me. What if he tried to hurt my wife or myself? If he can move things then he has the power to put a knife in my chest. Scared? Hell yes, I am scared. I sleep with one eye open. It is a figure of speech, I sleep lightly. He has control of my sub-conscious mind. When I sleep, he has power. I cannot stay awake, forever. It is affecting my life. Sometimes I wonder if I am losing my mind. I am sure he will continue with his games. Just pray for me.    theblogmeister

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

When It Rains......

  I took my wife to the doctor, the other day, to have some blood work done. She has to have it done because she is on coumadin, a drug to keep from having clots. Two years ago my wife developed a thrombus, a stationary clot, in her left calf. The thrombus turned into an em bolus, a moving clot. The clot reached her lung and was dissolved before it could make it to the heart or brain. If that would have happened I would have lost her. We got a call from her doctor yesterday morning and was told that her hemoglobin was 7.5. The normal value is 14. Hemoglobin is a part of the blood that carries iron. Besides her hemoglobin being dangerously low, her Hematocrit was also very low. The doctor told us to go to the hospital and have my wife admitted. His concern was that she was bleeding internally. Taking coumadin is not good if there is bleeding involved. Yesterday, she was taken to outpatient surgery to have an endoscopy tube ran down her esophagus to check out  her stomach. We learned that there were no signs of bleeding, the stomach looked good. Then she was prepped for a colonoscopy to be ran today. While she waited on the magnesium citrate to do its job she was given two units of blood to bring the low values back up. Today, she had her colonoscopy done and the doctor could not find any bleeding in her bowels. Every thing on that end looked good, also. They let me bring her home with some iron tablets to take TID. They could not find the reason for the low blood values. You may think that I am off my rocker, now? If anything happens to my wife and I lose her I am gonna have some problems that make the visits from the colonel seem completely normal. I cannot live without her. She is the reason that I am blessed with some walking around sense. After every thing that she learned about my PTSD and all the other bullshit that is wrong with my life, she took a chance on me, believed in me and married me. She is the one woman that I have spent together in a tractor trailer for months at a time and we never argued. I am not just saying this. She is absolutely one incredible woman. We love to be around each other. I would rather spend my weekends with her than go to Vegas with my buddies. Not like I could ever afford to go to Vegas. I love her that much and I wish that I had the money to do something for her. Money does not mean that much to her, thank God. We barely make it by. But I love it. I just want her close by. I cannot handle it if something happened to her. I swear I would join her. If you believe that there is a supreme being that created us and has the power to intervene in our lives I want you to ask God, or whomever you call God, to watch over my wife, Lorri, and ask him to let her stay with me. Please. Thank you      theblogmeister

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Managing My Mental Memories

Most, if not all, of my memories are mental time stamps. Just what the heck is a mental time stamp? Anytime I want to write a story all I have to do is recall certain memories, put them in a certain order, chronologically is done the most, emotive, and all memories that serve the purpose of my story. I included emotive for a specific reason. An actor is good at emoting to get his point across and for me it is the best way I can draw out certain behaviors to give my reader a feel for what I am reliving. That is all my stories. They are based on memories. I do not write novels. I emote on the page. If this sounds like the writings of a lunatic they very well may be. I change as my stories evolve into a coherent piece that is worthy of spending a few minutes to read. If I fail to have any emotion then I have failed you, the reader, and I, the writer. I mostly write while I am under the influence. I am glad WUI is not against the law. Writing Under the Influence. I have let my secret out, now. When I fail to keep your attention to read a story I have wasted time that helps me in my mental stability. It should be instability. It is like a diagnostician finding fault so I can figure a way to rehabilitate the fault. There is a jumble of neurons that are firing inside my brain constantly and for the only purpose; confusion. The colonel does not want me to reach that point when we actually communicated. But, that is what his sole purpose of existance. To communicate and find a way into the next dimension. It is like he had a chance and blew it. He now knows that he does not have to go through all the irrevelent things that scare most people away. My fear of him has abated. Now, if he pulls some stupid shit in the middle of the night he may succeed in scaring the hell out of me. We are past all that, now. Let us try it one more time. It was my anger that made you flee the last time. I will not make that mistake, again.                        theblogmeister

Friday, July 15, 2011

In a Zombie State of Mind

I don't know why this is happening to me. I quit smoking reefer a long time ago. It has nothing to do with the colonel, either. I can't explain it but sometimes I feel that I have contracted an Amazon disease that turns you  into a pygmy. The only problem is that I am not getting shorter. I like how tall I stand. I am five foot, eleven inches, the standard height of a male as quoted by the American Medical Association. I am not too tall and I am not too short. It has absolutely nothing to do with PTSD and I honestly don't know why I think it is important enough to put in my article. That is my point. The colonel has changed my life, forever. My thinking is predicated on my fears of my life in the midnight hours. If weed was legal I would be afraid to smoke it. I do not need cannabis to have freaky dreams. When I was a small child I would walk in my sleep. To prove that my midnight hours have not altered that much my wife says I talk in my sleep to this day. For some reason that bewilders me I have a very active midnight hour life. Maybe I was predisposed to nocturnal behaviors. My sub-conscious mind has a wonderful opportunity at creating or what ever it does while I am asleep. I do not know until I am pulled into another dimension by the colonel. That is when the shit hits the fan, excuse my french. I believe that the colonel is not the first one that I've had contact with on the other side. Maybe he was aware of that fact and is the reason that he chose me to carry out his plan. I'm afraid he needs me, once again. If not, why all the bother? I am beginning to think that he has not completely crossed over and is stuck between dimensions. I may be the only one that can complete the task since I started it.
  For some of you this may be too much to comprehend. Every thing is possible through these eyes. I have been dealing with more than most. Is what I write true? It is to me. Things happen that I cannot understand. My mental health has been an issue with me for a long time. Sometimes I think it all could be a bad dream. I've had those, too. I know what mental pain is all about. It is not much different than my physical pain. After several failed attempts at spinal fusion I am now, and have been for over a year, in pain management. I have an epidural every other month and they are only now starting to give me relief. Like my PTSD, things happen. I lost my medicaid on June 30th. My wife, who suffers from fibromyalgia, just received her disability and I lose my medicaid because we make $80 dollars over the limit. They do not let me count the $325 dollars that comes out of my check for child support. I make $261 dollars per month. I have talked with so many people about some help to no avail. I am going to have to come up with $180 dollars to get my caudal epidural. My luck, just when those shots started working. So, I am pulling my head out of the sand and asking for donations to keep my shots from being stopped. I'm going to keep on writing and telling you about my dreams. If you can help, please do. if not, please keep reading. Thanks for listening.    

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Where The Hell am I Going

 I have , at one time, thought I knew where this blog was heading. Now, I am not so sure. I have self punished for many, many, years. The Colonel has punished me until I thought I could not take it anymore. There is something inside me that will not allow that to happen. Is it God? I do not know. Is it Satan? He seems the more logical choice. Torment for 30+ years has to be evil. There are times when I believe that I have kicked his ass. Satan, not God. Yet the torment will not abate. It is not just me, it is my wife, also. She lives through the hell just as I. When we first got together, I did not think that the Colonel would bring her in to the hell I have been living. I told Lorri of my torment, trying to scare her away, it did not work. For some reason she believed that I needed her to stay sane. You have no idea what that meant to me. While I was in the VA hospital in Tuscaloosa, she called every night. When the phone would ring and the staff would say,"It is your girlfriend." my knees would almost buckle. I could not believe this woman cared so much for me. It was beyond my comprehension. Yet, she called every night. I had known her since highschool and she followed me. She had a bad marrage and did not want to get involved in any relationship with any male. But something happened that changed her mind. She could not explain. From that moment on, she knew that she would spend the rest of her life with theblogmeister  amen

Am I Losing My Mind?

The question has come up, before. Am I losing it? What I have been through and what I have seen should make any sane person question his or her sanity. I am still having the nightmares that plagued me for years. I try to make sense of it all, with not much luck. I honestly believe that there is some kind of unexplained power that exists in my sub-consciousness. I have literally sat and spoke with the colonel after decades of his earthly death. For some reason, I have scared him off to the point he has reverted back to the days when his death occured. I know how close he and his wife, Bunny, were while they were a part of this dimension. Has he not been able to reach her? Is he stuck between dimensions that do not allow him the ability to interact with his beloved wife? These are answers that I cannot give. If only he would come to me, as he did before, he may be able to tell me why he has not passed on. I have had many friends and family that have died and they seem to have passed through to the other dimension.My brother who died in 1989 has seemd to have had no problem leaving this dimension and yet he still visits me from time to time. Whether they are dreams or actual visits, I have no way of knowing. There are too many questions that I have no answer. I believe in a higher power and angels that look after us but I don't know how it all fits in. I have no doubt in my mind that there is a heaven and one day those that believe that Jesus is the son of God an if you believe that God sent Jesus to give the ones that accept him we will have eternal life. I also am being pulled in different directions by Lucifer and I believe that he that is in you is gtreater than he that is in the world. It will be a joyous day when God says it is time to go home to live in a hew heaven. I believe thqat you will be known as you are known. We will be together with those that have gone before us. There will be one great fight against good and evil and good will be the victor. theblogmeisteer

Friday, July 8, 2011

Somewhere In Time

Where was I? I do not even know. The colonel is up to his old tricks, again. I mean old, too. As you all know I spent a lot of my early years working for the State of Alabama. The State of Alabama Department of Corrections. Now that is a joke, corrections. What did they correct for me? Nothing. I was at Limestone Correctional Facility in the late year of 1997. I was on the chain gang. Every morning about 400 inmates, convict is what I would rather be called. There is a huge difference between a convict and an inmate. Trust me, you would rather be a convict, too. Anyway, rain or shine, all them inmates, plus a few of us convicts, would congregate outside in lines of twos. It is called duece it up.All the police, with their oak tree limbs hanging on their sides, would chain five of us up, together. We got down on all fours, like a dog, and the police would chain one leg to another until there were five of us chained together. When the five inmates were chained they would take off with a boss and head out to the land of nod. It was about 100 acres of trees that had been sawed down and the five chain gang members would encircle the stump and start to dig it out. The tools we used were rather primitive and very large. They were homemade hoes, axes, sling blades. bush axes, and the handles were made of tree limbs that were about 3 inches in diameter. I gotta tell you this chain gang shit sucked. I only was lucky enough to be a member of the infamous chain gang for about three weeks. There was a situation that happened on I-65 just south of Montgomery that put a screeching hault to all chain gangs in the state of Alabama. The way the story was told by the time it got to Limestone, and inter-prison communication was almost as good as AT&T, a crew was taking a break from bush axing the side of the interstate when two guys that were chained together started a cuss match. The boss man warned them that he would shoot their ass if they started anything. Apparently, one of the boys had hearing problems cause he grabbed his bushaxe and raised it up to show his cussing friend that he was not afraid to use it on him. The boss told him to put it down and when he decided to take a swing at the guy he was cussing the boss man shot him dead as hell. It was wonderful news to me. The state of Alabama on that day stopped the chain gang at all of its prisons. I was not mad, at all.         theblogmeister

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Seems Like I've Been There Before

I was perusing the Internet the other day and came across a story that was similar to mine. A Healthcare worker, a patient with cancer that had some eerie experiences. The truth is it is hard to get these stories out to the public. Fear of what others may think I believe is the number one reason why more of these types of stories are kept inside the one afflicted. The number one thing we need as a human being is a sense of belonging and it would be hard to achieve that if there were whispers about the persons mental capacity. I was forced, more or less, in telling my story. I kept it quiet for over 30 years for the very reason of how someone will view me. I am not alone. There are literally thousands with similar experiences like mine who choose to remain anonymous. I have no judgements or faults because of their choice. It is tough to set yourself up to ridicule judgements of your character. I applaud those who do not care what others may think. I wish I would have been that way in the late seventies.

I believe this to be a true story.

While workers in the medical field have to be some of the most rational and logical individuals of any field, if you spend some time with anyone who deals with death and dying you will eventually come across some very strange and odd stories.
  Whether it be care assistants, nurses or even physicians themselves there are many in the medical field that have an amazing story to tell. The problem is getting them to tell it.
Like in any other field of work there are many of those who doubt and mock the stories of the unexplained. And perhaps those in the medical profession are more suspect of such stories; since many are surrounded by death and dying constantly but few ever have an unexplained experience. And unless you are a good friend most of those who experience the paranormal at the medical workplace will keep quite about their experiences. But if you are fortunate to have them share their brief encounters with the unexplained, you often find they are some of the most heartwarming and assuring you have ever encountered.
  Pearl had worked at the hospital for more than 20 years, and was used to switching shifts. When she was younger she hated the night shift if only for the reason that she had a young family to care for and she hated leaving her children with a sitter. But now as she was older and her children were in college, she saw the night shift as a relaxing and peaceful time to care for her patients and have the ability to actually finish all of her paperwork. Being a floor that was home to many terminally ill patients, it did have its times of stress and chaos. But most of the time she would be at her desk or assisting some of the other nurses in caring for those who were about to cross the mortal veil.
  Many times she became very close to the patients that she tended, especially with those who still had their mental abilities unimpeded during their stay on the ward. It was very hard to get to know and appreciate these patients only to loose them within a few weeks, but that was the nature of the job. Roger had terminal cancer, but was still coherent and mobile when he came to the floor. Even though walking was very difficult for him, he took at least two or three walks around the hall during Pearl’s shift. He would walk around and joke other patients and flirt with all the pretty nurses. With his cordial attitude and carefree humor he won the hearts of all he socialized with. Sometimes he was the only friendly face and comforting voice besides the faculty that some of the other patients had seen all day. When he became too sick to do his daily walks, the other patients sorely missed him. His inability to be mobile also had an effect on his morale and he deteriorated very quickly. It was less than a week later that he was dead.
  A few days after Roger’s passing Pearl head one of the patients carrying on a conversation by himself, intermingled with uproarious laughter. This in and of itself was nothing too uncommon, many of the clients on the floor had dementia and often relived their past or carried on an existence living in an unseen fantasy world. But Pearl knew this patient to never have an incident of dementia; he had a clearer mind than she did most of the time. So she entered the room to investigate. When asked what all the commotion was the patient told Pearl that Roger had been ‘a card’ tonight and he cheering him up. The man pointed at the chair next to his bed and then sat up with surprise. “Where did he go?” he asked looking quickly left to right for his friend, “He was sitting right here…”
When she informed him that Roger had passed away days ago the man was insistent that there had to be some kind of mistake, Roger was there just moments before and he had seen him for the last few days. “He said he was feeling a lot better, I was worried because I hadn't seen him in a while.”The staff normally did not notify any other patient if there was a death on the ward, those who remained did not need to know and it would cause their morale to drop. And some of the patients were clinging on by a sliver of hope. So the man had no idea previously that Roger had died. He insisted that the he had visited him.
  Within the next coming weeks the man’s condition also declined. He passed quickly. The nurses heard him carrying on conversations all the time with an unseen guest. One night shortly before he passed Pearl visited him once again and asked how he was doing. The man told her that he was alright, everything would be fine. Roger had visited him and told him that even though he would be passing soon there was nothing to fear.
  The next shift Pearl worked she found that the man had indeed passed. As she talked to another nurse about the incident the nurse reported that on the night of the mans death he had been carrying on a conversation with someone who was not there. According to the nurse the last words he had said were, “OK Roger, I’m ready.”
Did the Roger continue his rounds cheering up a fellow patient and escort him onto the other side?

You be the judge. I have not one shred of doubt of the validity of this story. Why my story evolved into something sinister, I do not know. I hope to get the chance to sit with the colonel one more time. I promise, I will handle it differently.      theblogmeister

Sunday, July 3, 2011

I've Seen This Movie, Before

There was a long banging coming from my front porch door. It was enough to wake me from a pharmaceutical sleep. I started to get up but then remembered my nightmares of the past. I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I heard the loud noise, again. I looked at my wife, who happened to be a light sleeper, she was not moving. That fucking colonel. Is he so bored in the world that he is stuck in that he has to play with my mind? That made me start thinking. What if it was a real emergency and someone from law enforcement was indeed trying to get a hold of me? I had to check it out. I got up from my bed and looked at the clock, 11:52pm. I tip-toed to the front door as quiet as I could. If it was some neighborhood kids I wanted to look out inconspicuously and try to catch them doing whatever it was they were doing. It is nothing like the days of my youth when we would put some dog shit in a paper bag, light it, ring the doorbell and run hide to see their reaction. It would work every time. The homeowner would start to stamp out the small fire only to find he was stomping in dog shit. We had to try real hard to keep from laughing out loud and give away our position. All the lights were off, so, I looked through the slits in the blinds. You know, the same way a crack head does, but I did it once, not every minute. I did not see anything or hear anything out of the ordinary. I knew when I had first heard it there would be no one there. It was the colonel. Playing his silly games. I have been exposed to so many of his repertoire I am fearful that he may try things that have never been tried, before. I cannot recall the colonel ever showing anger towards me and my family. He never threw knives or none of that scary shit. It puzzles me that he takes so long before he will actually speak with me. If the chance comes and I ever speak with him, again, it will be different. I am not sure if he is stuck between parallel universes or what. Why can he not go own to where his journey ends. Or, maybe it begins. He seems to be stuck in my sub-conscious mind. I have moved on, I think. Maybe I haven't. Maybe his job is to get me to see all the things that have held me back in society. This is too much for me, right now. I will have to do some research.          theblogmeister

Saturday, July 2, 2011

I'm Not The Only One

There seems to be a desire for me to relive all those horrible nightmares in the past regarding the colonel. After all those tears of pure terror, my wife finding me in another room not knowing what was going on with me and why I was having all these nightmares. I do not know what the colonel has planned for me but he is taking it back to the beginning. Why? 
I found some stories for you to read. Draw your own conclusion.

I wanted to share this experience with you and see what you think.

When I was married to my now ex-wife who had lost her mother at the age of 11, she told me that her deceased mother had appeared to her in dreams while she was sleeping. I was skeptical but maintained an open mind about the whole thing thinking that it was possible. That was until it happened to me.
My father who I was very close to passed away in January 1996. It was the hardest day of my life. I loved my father very much. I can't remember the day, but one night while I was sleeping I had this dream.
I remember a white house which I don't recognize but in the backyard there was a typical screen door with the screen mesh on it that you could see through. In my dream, I approached the screen door and recognized my father on the other side of the door. He looked at me and said, "Son, there's something I want to tell you." At that moment, I was so freaked out, even in the dead of sleep I unfortunately snapped out of it and woke up. It really freaked me out. I never got to hear what it was that my "father wanted to tell me." For the rest of my life, I will regret waking up out of that dream. I wish I could of heard what he wanted to tell me.
I'm a believer now that relatives can come to you in your dreams but what I can decide is if it is a manifestation of your sub-conscious mind or if it is a real experience.

Here is another;
I have always had dreams in which deceased friends and relatives show up. I am always delighted to see them and immediately ask them why they are here because they are supposed to be dead. They never answer my question but just start to join me in whatever I am doing in the dream when they appear.
I have seen my dad so many times in the dreams, he passed away 20 years ago. I have had dreams with my father in law who twice has given me a big hug and it just felt so good. He passed away about 5 years ago.I have seen my younger sister who passed away 8 years ago in my dreams. In one of the dreams, I told her to go away because she was bugging me as younger sisters do in real life. When I woke up, I thought to myself that I should never have asked her to leave because the time she was spending with me was extra precious time that a lot of people do not get.I recently told my sisters and mom about my dreams, they live in another state. Both were shocked because they do not have dreams with deceased people. When I told my mother in law about getting a hug from her deceased husband, she was also shocked and even a little jealous.

It sounds like the mother-in-law thought her daughter-in-law was crazy. Read on;

This dream that I found more resembles the repetitive dreams that I have experiencing for years. The dreams started out as terror filled with a reason that I could not understand. It was especially hard on my wife because she had never seen anything like them, before. After I told her of what happened while I was in the military, she still did not understand but she had a good idea of the origin of the nightmares. After several decades of putting up with my bizarre behavior she became even more willing to find out how we could get some relief from these horrendous nightmares. It is disappointing that after I had the chance to talk with the colonel all I got was questions. Not the answers I was seeking. I hope it will not be another several years before I get another chance to talk with the colonel and find out if I had done the right thing.

Meaning of a Dream That Repeats Itself ;

We have all had phases in our lives when it seems like we can’t get rid of a dream. We may having the same dream night after night or even be having the same dream a couple of times a night. Some people have the same dream a couple of times a week or a month. Repetitive dreams are also those ones that you seem to have had year after year from child. If you have had a dream more than three times in your life, it qualifies as a repetitive dream. Psychologists tell us to take note of these repeating dreams because it may be our subconscious mind trying to tell us something.
The thing that is so disquieting about repetitive dreams is that they often feel like “a call to action.” Often, the person feels panicked and like they have to do something. Many psychologists tell us that these dreams are an ironic “wake up call.” Just as you must wake up from a dream to remember, the dream might be telling you to wake up to a truth that you might be hiding from others or yourself.
Repetitive dreams indicate that you are continuing to miss the point about the meaning of the dream. If you don’t “wake up” to the unconscious meaning of the dream, but instead persist in seeing it through your own wish-fulfillment needs, you will remain stuck in your own self-deception. However, sometimes repetitive dreams are part of a post traumatic reaction to something that has happened in your life. Our modern word nightmare derives from the Middle English nightmare (from night, night, and mare, demon), an evil spirit believed to haunt and suffocate sleeping people. And so, in today’s world, when we speak of a nightmare, we mean a frightening dream accompanied by a sensation of oppression and helplessness. Traumatic nightmares are one of the many symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Repetitive, intrusive nightmares following a trauma often contain symbolic themes that mirror the original trauma and relate to threat to life, threat of abandonment or death, or loss of identity.
The problem with these types of dreams is it is not enough to just know them intellectually. You have to take measures in real life to address your fears or you will most likely keep having the nightmares.
To stop nightmares you might trying writing them down in as much detail as possible, no matter how frightening you find them. Write the story out but give the nightmare a different ending. Diminish what is fearful in the dream and give it a happy needing. Remember that the nightmare is grounded in emotions such as raw anger that have been provoked by a trauma. The point of a new ending is to “tame” the emotions and rewrite your narrative. Then, rehearse the new ending in your mind every night before going to sleep. Many people can successfully stop having repetitive nightmares using this method

Meaning of a Dream That Repeats Itself

We have all had phases in our lives when it seems like we can’t get rid of a dream. We may having the same dream night after night or even be having the same dream a couple of times a night. Some people have the same dream a couple of times a week or a month. Repetitive dreams are also those ones that you seem to have had year after year from child.

If you have had a dream more than three times in your life, it qualifies as a repetitive dream. Psychologists tell us to take note of these repeating dreams because it may be our subconscious mind trying to tell us something.

The thing that is so disquieting about repetitive dreams is that they often feel like “a call to action.” Often, the person feels panicked and like they have to do something. Many psychologists tell us that these dreams are an ironic “wake up call.” Just as you must wake up from a dream to remember, the dream might be telling you to wake up to a truth that you might be hiding from others or yourself.

Repetitive dreams indicate that you are continuing to miss the point about the meaning of the dream. If you don’t “wake up” to the unconscious meaning of the dream, but instead persist in seeing it through your own wish-fulfillment needs, you will remain stuck in your own self-deception.

This is a story that resembles mine. Dreams of repetition. See what the 'so-called' experts say

However, sometimes repetitive dreams are part of a post traumatic reaction to something that has happened in your life. Our modern word nightmare derives from the Middle English nightmare (from night, night, and mare, demon), an evil spirit believed to haunt and suffocate sleeping people. And so, in today’s world, when we speak of a nightmare, we mean a frightening dream accompanied by a sensation of oppression and helplessness.
Traumatic nightmares are one of the many symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Repetitive, intrusive nightmares following a trauma often contain symbolic themes that mirror the original trauma and relate to threat to life, threat of abandonment or death, or loss of identity.
The problem with these types of dreams is it is not enough to just know them intellectually. You have to take measures in real life to address your fears or you will most likely keep having the nightmares.
To stop nightmares you might trying writing them down in as much detail as possible, no matter how frightening you find them. Write the story out but give the nightmare a different ending. Diminish what is fearful in the dream and give it a happy needing. Remember that the nightmare is grounded in emotions such as raw anger that have been provoked by a trauma. The point of a new ending is to “tame” the emotions and rewrite your narrative. Then, rehearse the new ending in your mind every night before going to sleep. Many people can successfully stop having repetitive nightmares using this method

What I can say for certainty is that PTSD is a bitch. I will keep in touch.   theblogmeister

Who Hit Rewind?

My brain has reverted back to the late seventies. Well, Not what I have learned, rather. what my sub-conscious is up to. After the traumatic event that happened in 1978, some call it PTSD, my dreams are reverting back to that time era. The past several days I have dreamt the same dreams that I dreamt after the colonel's last breath. Weird dreams, scary dreams, dreams that seem to try to punish me for what I had done. For over thirty years, I have had these dreams that tormented my soul. They made sleep almost impossible. Then, after many years of treatment for PTSD I had the chance to sit face to face with the colonel. There was no fear or apprehension. Those two questions, "Why do you fear me?", "Why do you fear me?" It pissed me off so bad that I let loose a tirade of reasons why he had brought fear into my life. Like a coward that he is, He has started over. Am I going to go through those nightmares and relive them, again? I have no control over my sub-conscious mind. I had a professor in college that stated we only dreamt in black and white and that our nightmares were in color. Bullshit! I gave him an example. I asked him, when did the concept of black and white originate? He had no answer. My belief is that before the invention of the camera, which came before television, no concept of black and white existed. How can humans dream in something that does not exist? It is impossible. Most psychologists are Freud freaks and I reminded my professor that Freud was a dope head. It is true. He documented the use of several narcotics, including LSD, in his book, Sigmund Freud's Cocaine Papers. I am not making this up. Google it, don't take my word. As I was stating before, I have no control of what my mind is up to after I am asleep. Once again, I am having to deal with a soul that has either,a. not crossed over, or b. can move from reality to reality. Time travel, if you will. Man is unable to figure out this phenomenon. Those that have moved on to another parallel universe has mastered the art. That is my only conclusion. Otherwise, why has the colonel chosen to try to do something that did not work the first time. In the mean time, I will have to endure the fear of the past. Time has a total different effect on those that are not of this world. A day to the dead may be a year to the living, I do not know. I have a little bit of an advantage this time. When the colonel chooses to make himself available to me I will most definitely handle it different.    theblogmeister

Monday, June 20, 2011

Snooping Around

I was curious the other day and was wondering how many more people like me are out there. I googled 'visits from the dead' and was surprised at how many stories there are similar to mine. I gotta tell you, there was some that were way out there, if you know what I mean. I'm talking weird shit like necrophilia, look it up if you do not know what it means, and some stuff that was written by several people using the same computer. (multiple personalities). I found a good bit of it amusing. I hope that my writings do not fall into that category. My stories started out with a lot of trepidation. When I first started there was not many people reading my blog. I do not know how it happened but suddenly I have a huge following. That is why I try to log in something every night. Anyway, the stories that i read about other people's life made me understand why I have such a huge following. I have been reading about this girl that is being visited by her grandmother every night. I think about the opportunity to spend one night with my grandmother and I get chills. My Daddy's mother lived until she was 97, I think. I was in prison when my grandmother died and it hurts, a lot. The year before she died, I was at a minimal security camp in Childersburg, Alabama, not very far from my home. Visitations were on Sunday and you had to have you visitors on a list, pre-approved to visit. I had my immediate family, only. My Dad's mother, Grandmother Riley, came to visit me at Childersburg. They would not let her see me because she was not on the pre-approved list. My Grandmother wanted to know why she could not see me, she had driven with my Dad all the way from Gadsden and she wanted to see me. She didn't understand why see was not allowed to see me. I did get to talk for a minute through the fence until the guard caught us. Just those couple minutes I will cherish the rest of my life. She died not long after and I could not go to the funeral. I did get to tell her that I loved her. Prison sucks! You would think after going to prison once it would make you a changed man. Not this hard head. I had it too easy in prison. The first camp I went to was a 2600 soybean field. I was in a squad of about 30 guys and we were digging drainage channels for the farm. I mean they had to be u-shaped, with zero grass. My second day on the farm, with a hand full of blisters, the farm boss said, "How many graduated from high school? Hold up your hand." I held up my hand as I was looking around the squads. My hand was the only one raised. "Go over to the Farm office and see Mr.Jerrells." he said. I said "When? Right now. Thank you God. I went to see the farm supervisor and he asked me if I was good at math. Hell yes. My mind said the first word. Anyway, I was in charge of the gas and diesel. I had my own office with a fan, coffee pot, and private bathroom. That was the biggest perk. Use your imagination. Riley's Gas Station is what my sign read. Sweet job. No hot sun, no blisters, and no blue ball. My next stop was a little different.       theblogmeister

Friday, June 17, 2011

I'm Not Afraid

I woke up with a jolt. Sat straight up in bed and looked all around. Someone was here. I looked down at my wife and her rhythmic breath sounds were soothing. The inhalation of gases that I don't even know how to spell. I do know the main one. Oxygen. It is also the greatest cure for a hangover. Inhale about three 100% pure breaths of 02 and you will feel brand new. There is two things that we have to have, among others, to survive and they are oxygen and water. We cannot live without water. A couple of molecules of hydrogen bonded to a molecule of oxygen and we have the greatest miracle of life. Why is it a miracle, you ask? I'm glad you did. There are two gases, not what you put in your tank, I am talking about a form of matter. The other two are solid and liquid. OK, science class is over. Let me finish the miracle and I will move on to another miracle. Hydrogen and oxygen are two of the most flammable substances known to man. Remember the zeppelin? No, not 'Stairway to Heaven.' That blimp that caught fire and all those guys jumping trying to get away from the burning hydrogen.Yep, that shit burns. Everybody knows that oxygen burns. You have to have oxygen to cause a fire.That one extra hydrogen molecule and you have the best thing to put out a fire. Whoever thought up that, now he is 'The Man' or as most of us know him as God. I have proof that God exists. I can hear those atheists go, yeah right. The agnostic wants to hear, more. On the other hand if I believe in God, I must believe in the devil. I will prove it. Hot and cold. Light and dark. Large and small. Black and white. Push and pull. Open and closed. Narrow and wide. Deep and shallow. Right and left. Up and down. near and far. Here and there. Soft and hard. Straight and bent. Tall and short. Relaxed and nervous. Lost and found. Fast and slow. GOOD and EVIL. For every action there is a reaction. There are things that we cannot explain because we do not have the knowledge. Things happen on this earth but I believe there is another earth. I lost a brother when I turned 30 that I thought there would be no way I would ever get over it. It bothered me and it disrupt my daily life. I became a burden to my parents and my friends. Something had to be done. If someone would not have stepped in to save me I would have ended up in the same place. I would have left this body. I was a mess. Then one night I was driving home from a friends house. I turned down the road that I lived on and like every other time I drove that road I looked at my brother's house that was next door to my parent's house, where I was staying. It was about 11pm at night with no clouds in the sky. I saw someone standing on the front porch, beckoning me to come over. I pulled my car into my parents driveway and got out. I stood there trying to convince myself of what I saw. I walked over to my brother's house and walked in the front door. There was a lamp that was on sitting by the couch. I knew this was beyond me because my parents had had the power turned off a few days after Cornbread was killed. I was afraid. I did not see anyone, so, I walked over and sat on the couch. I looked up and the door was closed. I did not see anyone close it nor did I hear it closing.All of a sudden I could smell the cologne he used to wear and I turned to my left and saw him standing there. I jumped up and was headed over to give him a bear hug. He held out his hand and told me that he was not yet in his glorified body and we could not touch. I listened to him tell me to tell Mom that he was sorry and that he was doing good for her not to worry about him. He said to tell Dad that it was more beautiful than he could imagine. He looked at me with those steel blue eyes and told me to treat others good and that one day we would be together, again I told him to wait, don't go. He said he came to show me the way and he would see me again, too. Tears were falling down my eyes. I started to weep. My wife woke up and asked, "Bubba? That was all that was said. Did I talk to my brother? I do not have a doubt in my mind that what happened was real because after that I began to change from the inside. Thank you my brother and thank you God.     theblogmeister 

Thursday, June 16, 2011

A Life Sentence

When a person hears that a jury has given them a life sentence it is usually the result of something socially unaccepted. The one that comes to mind first would be a murderer. Most of the times that is the case. As you watch the Cailee Anthony murder trial, and you would not believe just how many are, the death of a child is what in the legal field is called a heinous murder. There are other cases that fall into that category. The killing of more than one person. Death that involves the commission of a felony. A death involving torture. The killing of a sworn protector of the law. These are all heinous murders and are punishable by death in most states. In the state of Alabama a man was sentenced to life for one joint. How is that possible? It is called the habitual offender act. The state of Texas conceived of the law and Alabama followed suit. The idea behind this law is that if a person commits two felonies and commits a third, the punishment is enhanced, thinking that a person who commits many felonies needs more time to rehabilitate. This is the most ill-conceived law that our states have ever drawn up. I gave you a perfect example at the start of this story. A guy buys some merchandise that happens to be stolen. He gets a slap on the wrist, pays a fine, and has to do some probation. Maybe some community service work. One year later, this same man writes a bad check and guess what? Felony number two. He pays a larger fine and depending on several factors such as, the present prison population,  how good of a lawyer he has, there is a real chance that he may not see the state prison, just a couple days in the county jail. He gets 5 years probation, mainly because the prison is so overcrowded and there is no room in the inn. Now, this same guy has been doing good the last 4 years, been paying his supervision fee every month, has got a good job, and decides to go out to the club for some drinks and a little dancing with the ladies. A beautiful blond approaches and asks if he has a joint. It just so happens that his buddy has some in the car. He gets the keys, walks out to the car and grabs the joint and hands it to her. CLANK, you are under arrest for the distribution of controlled substances. He makes bail, hires an attorney and goes to court. It just happens to be election time and the D.A. will not plea because he is trying to be elected to the circuit judge and his platform is 'Tough on Drugs.' He goes before the same judge that used to be the D.A. and is given a life sentence for being an habitual offender. This is a true story. I was in prison with the guy. You tell me, is this justice system got some problems in it? It does when you give a man a life sentence for one joint. Nineteen states have made it legal to use marijuana for medicinal purposes. It is up to our generation that the laws change. Give the life sentence to the guy for raping a woman, not for a joint.    theblogmeister

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Colonel Can Wait

Yes, I did have a dream about the colonel last night but that is not what I want to talk about, today. My insides are burning because of the actions of my step-daughter and what she has taken from me. For the past year, my granddaughter has been spending every Friday night with my wife and I. Sadie is my step granddaughter but I love her as if she was my own flesh and blood. She also loves coming to Paw Paw's house and is the most precious 2 year old I have ever seen. The problem is her mother, my step-daughter. Over the years we have had a good relationship. She was 23 when her mother and I got married and had a son named Mason. He is 8, now and loves to come stay with us, too. A little over two years ago Chrissy, my step-daughter, got married to a guy that seemed okay. He had an attitude that he was a little better than everyone else. That was the only fault I saw in him. He has convinced Chrissy that vaccines are not good for kids and refuses to have Sadie vaccinated. He claims that vaccines are the cause of autism. I know there is a study in the correlation of vaccines and autism but the study cannot prove the connection. My wife and her daughter got into a big fight over this very subject. As a result of this fight she, Chrissy, has decided that we will no longer be able to have the kids over to spend the night. I text Chrissy and told her that it was not fair or right to use her kids as pawns to punish people she is mad towards. We are not the only people that she is mad at and not letting her kids visit. Chrissy text her husband, who called me, and told me that it was his decision to not let the kids stay with us any longer. I told him what a dumb-ass he was and he was acting like a child. He threatened me and I told him that I would stomp a mud hole in his ass. Because of their stupidity, I will not get to see my beautiful Sadie, anymore. So, I text Chrissy, again and sent her a vaccine program that Bill and Melinda Gates are sponsoring. I said that I am fairly sure that the Gates have the money to research the autism debate and have concluded that there is no correlation between vaccines and autism. I reminded her that they are a lot smarter than me, you, and your dumb-ass husband. There is no getting through to them. It has to be the husband convincing Chrissy of the false beliefs of vaccines. Well, he called me, again, and told me that if I contact his wife that he would file harassment charges against me. I tried one more time to convince him about vaccines. I asked, "How do you think we eradicated polio?" No talking. "How do you think we eradicated smallpox?" Still silent "You had your shots, by the way, how did that go?" Just breathing. He had no answer and yet he is going to jeopardize my Sadie's health because he is a dumb-ass. I'm so mad right now if I saw him I would stomp the shit out of him. "Don't contact my wife or me, again." He hung up. I said it before, he is a dumb-ass. I will do some research to see if the vaccines are mandatory. I know you can get out of taking them for religious reasons but count on it. I will find out how I can get Sadie the shots she needs. Then I am gonna whoop his dumb-ass.     theblogmeister 

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Lost in Time

There was a point n time I was writing my biography. If someone offered me $1million dollars to tell you where in my story, chronologically, I would be, the only thing I would be is lost. Did that sentence make any sense, at all? I have to admit it is hard to write when I have Working Man, by Rush, blasting in my ear drums. It is weird that the sound does not come from either ear, rather, it is in the middle of my brain. How is that possible? I mean the sound is exactly coming from the middle of my brain. No, I am not smoking any dope. Do they still call it dope, these days? When I first started smoking I was 16 years old, sitting in a '49 Plymouth up on blocks. The interior was covered with black light posters and my buddy had a kick-ass sound system, coupled with a blue light to enhance the posters. The car had a huge interior that would hold 6 to 8 people inside. We spent many hours sitting in that car, getting stoned, jamming to some of the best music ever recorded. I was fortunate to be a teen during the height of rock music. I wonder what the neighbors thought about us spending hours sitting in that old car? When the door opened it would look like that scene from Cheech & Chong's movie, Up In Smoke. Hell, he lived in a rather crowded neighborhood and we never got the law called on us. This music is flashing me back to some old memories like the time Zak, my best friend, and I were sitting at the end of a dirt road out by fireman's island smoking some of that imported red bud. That shit was so sticky it was hard to roll a joint. We were getting plastered when Zak asked, yelled would be a better word, "Did you hear that?" punching me on my arm at the same time. It sorta pissed me off cause I was in the middle of one of Neil Peart's drum solos. I turned down the music. "What, are you tripping?" I asked him. We sat there a few minutes and did not hear anything. I was reaching for the cassette player when two loud knocks came from the window. It scared the living shit out of the both of us. We had been there long enough to smoke a couple doobies and I know the car was filled with smoke. We looked at each other, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. We were just praying it would be some of our buddies that knew about fireman's island. Zak rolled the front window down about an inch and asked if someone was out there. We heard a booming voice. This is the Glencoe Police, I want you to turn your inside light on and roll the window down all the way. Don't worry about the pot smell getting out, I smelled you when I stepped out of my car. Zak turned the light on and I had a bag of red bud sitting in my lap, opened, with a pack of papers sitting on my leg. The officer said, "Hey Spot. You know I am gonna have to make ya'll follow me to the Hall to talk to the Chief." Shit, everybody knew me. I was born with black hair with a white spot in the front. Everybody called me Spot. Being popular is not all good. He took our weed and we followed him to the City Hall. The officer sat us in front of Chief Rutledge's desk while he went back to his apartment and woke him up. Yeah, I know. It was a small town. I looked over at Zak and he was about to cry. A few minutes later the Chief walked in and sat down at his desk, throwing the sack of weed in front of him. It was about 2am and the Chief was still in his PJ's. He looked at me and said, "Spot, what would your Dad say if he knew you had this stuff?" I told him that he would kill me. "Well, we better not tell him. He put the pot back in the baggie and rolled it like a sandwich. "You boys go home and I better not ever catch you with this stuff, again. We could not believe what just happened. Not a word was said until we got to my house. "Later." "Yeah."    theblogmeister

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Sneaky Bastard

I fell asleep last night during the Dallas / Heats game. When I woke up I was sitting in the very end of this long, oval table. "Who won the game?" There was about 40 people there and they just looked at each other and did not say a word. I figured that I was having another crazy-ass dream so, I started to get up. The chair was about 500 lbs. , it seemed, and I could not budge it. I looked around at everyone and they were all wearing the same white robe. Do you remember that old man in Lord of The Rings? That is what they all looked like. I mean every last one of them. "Has any of ya'll seen the colonel, lately?" I asked. They were staring me down. Started giving me a creepy feeling. Then I remembered how the colonel left me. I showed him no fear. I was wondering if it would work with these guys. "Look, ya'll are just about to piss me off, so, someone better start talking." Shit, that didn't scare them in the least. They just kept on staring at me. I was starting to feel real uneasy when the dude at the far end of the table stood up and introduced himself. He was responsible for fighting all bad in the celestial world. "Are all these guys your helpers"? I had to know cause we were gonna have some problems if that is all he had. "These are a small part of my armies we use to stop evil." That's good to know. Cause what I was kooking at could not whip up a on bunch of women. The next thing I know I am being moved at a fairly good clip without the use of airplanes or any other mechanical devices. This has got to be the dream of all dreams. We were traveling the universe, not just the world. I had no idea how it would be possible other than in a dream. As fast as we took off we were standing in a beautiful field with an enormous waterfall cascading down from heights that were enormous. As I was taking in the beautiful scenery he told me that I did some good work when I occupied the body that ended Colonel DeBarge's pain and suffering. I had no idea how he knew all that he knew but he was impressive. "I also understand that the act itself has given you much grief." he said. "Who are you, and how do you know all this?" I asked. "That is not important at this time." Was his response. He had the most caring and loving aura about himself that I wanted to hang out with this guy. "You see, there is a lot of things I know about you and there are a lot of good in you."  He must have missed the Ted Nugent concert. I could not figure out exactly where I was, nor, could I figure out how the hell I got there. The whole crew in the flowing white gowns were standing there, too. I could feel nothing but a satiated feeling from being around them. I was not scared, at all. "What is your name?" I asked. "I am the truth, the light, I have many names. They are not important." Was this a dream? I could not honestly tell if it was a dream or reality. As I was trying to figure it out the man with the robe approached me. There were others wearing robes but I guess he was the leader of the bunch. When he reached me he outstretched his hand and quicker than a heartbeat I was standing in my living room, the light fading. I could hear a voice in the distance saying that we will meet again.Cool.       theblogmeister 

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Something in Common

About 5 years ago I started hearing strange voices and seeing things. I would turn my TV to one channel, come back from the bathroom, and my TV would be unplugged but still on. I know it was my TV because it's the only plug in the electrical outlet.
  Fast forward to this year. I am still hearing things at 14 and I think it's done nothing but grown. Everywhere we move (my dad's job causes us to move about once everyone three months) things seem to be attracted to me.
  Why the paranormal would want to bother me when I was nine and keep attacking me now is a wonder to my parents. At first they thought I was going insane when they would come into my room and find me in a fetal position screaming my head off. They took me to the doctor on several occasions.
  Now like I said, it's done nothing but gotten worse. I will have nightmares every night. Everyone but this major paranormal freak hates me. We have to move to Colorado soon, so I will lose him pretty quick.
  At school ghosts love to visit me when I'm alone. They will knock things over harshly. They especially love to make the speakers do that feedback thing, and call my name.
  At home they will turn the TV on, off, turn the channels. Turn the water on and off in the bathrooms and kitchen. Mostly they attack me in my sleep. The most recent dream I have had is a little girl being drowned in my pool and then a hurricane destroying my home, even though we live no where near the ocean!
Well anyways, thanks for reading my story. Maybe more will happen in Colorado I will tell you about next week, or whenever this is up.

It seems that the author of this story and I have something in common. We both have had visits or strange events that happened to us when we were young. These events are still happening, today. It seems that the last time that I saw the colonel and showed anger it scared him off. Well, I do not know if that is why he left but it is coincidental that fear motivated him to try manipulating me and when I got pissed off and showed my anger the colonel left. We have digressed in our relationship. It is know like it was 30 years ago, or so it seems. It is back to my having nightmares that he chooses not to be seen as much. Our relationship has definitely changed after he asked me why did I fear him. That really got me. You dumb son of a bitch, why do you think I am afraid. That question he asked me just set me off and I think he knows it. Hell, maybe I scared his ass for a change. When he felt like he had the power and could make me react to some of his images and unexpected sounds he seemed to get bolder and try more intimidating things. When I got pissed and yelled at him, he lurked away. Now, he is slowly trying to do whatever his plan is. I do not have a clue as to what he is trying. Don't get me wrong, the nightmares do have an effect on me. I am not immune to them. They are terror filled and very uncomfortable for me to endure. Maybe that is what he wants, I do not know. Where ever this thing goes, I will keep you in the loop. Thanks for stopping by,      theblogmeister