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

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 

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

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 

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

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 

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 

Shadows

Late last night I was sitting in my living room and kept seeing something out of the corner of my eye. The object was coming from my office where I had left a lamp on. From my position on my recliner I could barely see into my office. While watching TV on several occasions I saw a shadow move across my line of sight. I got up, went into the office and could not find anything out of the ordinary. These shadows kept appearing for close to an hour. I showed no fear and let the shadows know it. I did not see anymore shadows. That convinced me, again, that showing no fear will make the spirits uncomfortable. For years all I showed was fear and what I got in return was more visits. I want to face the colonel, once again, but I do not think he will show himself because he knows that I am not afraid of him. I need to do some research on these visits and their strengths. I worked in the hospital when I met the colonel. I have found a story that you may be interested.


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?



It is shown that experiences come from all walks of life. These paranormal experiences have been reported for centuries. I believe that something that has been written about for so long has to be true. I know it is true. I have lived it for over thirty years. I do not understand it and I will keep trying to figure it out. Thanks     theblogmeister

An Unknown Visit

Usually when I am in the midst of a visit from the colonel it is he that visits me. Many times I have awakened to strange noises only to be met by the colonel himself. I still have not figured out what message he is trying to relay to me. At first, the message was clear, fear. It is like he wanted me to know that he could instill pure terror when he chose. He has been good at that, too. For the longest, he did not say a word to me, he just wanted me to experience fear. Is he doing that to pay me back? All I did was do something that he was too afraid to do himself. The first few years after I had done what he had wished, the nightmares were frequent and terrifying. It has been that way up until about five years ago. I really believe that is when things started changing. I would be awaken from a deep sleep to a loud noise. Things began to be more reality than fantasy. I would be awake and hear the bathroom door close, thinking it was my wife I would go check on her. The bathroom light would be on with the door closed and I would call out her name without an answer. I would then check the bedroom and find her sleeping, peacefully. This was something new. Never before had the colonel manipulated an inanimate object. I would open the bathroom door to find it empty. I did not open the door or turn on the light. My wife did not do it, either. This began many strange things that happened in our house. It reached a point where I would see someone out of the corner of my eye and could tell that someone was watching me. My fear was for my wife. I had a talk with her about it and she was not afraid. I believe that fear was its motivator, its fuel. Most of the strange things happened to me and did not involve my wife. I am a man but I gotta tell you that some things scared the living shit out of me. This must have gone on for a couple years before the night came when I made contact with the colonel. He looked as he had in 1978 and his breath smelled like the cancer that ate him up. He was standing in my living room and asked , "Why do you fear me?" My heart was beating so fast. I asked him what he said. He repeated his question. My fear turned to anger. I was about to cuss his ass out when he disappeared. The chickenshit. All these years he had been scaring the hell out of me and my wife and he had the balls to ask me why I feared him. I figured that anger is his kryptonite while fear is his fuel. I had times to test my theory. I am not as smart as I thought I was.   theblogmeister

The Colonel ; Happier Times

I have spoken so much about the bad and dark side of the colonel I thought it only fitting I share some of his more positive attributes and give you how I dealt with the colonel, the man. I met the colonel when I was 19 years old and he was in his seventies. Those first days of his admission were mostly getting to know each other and, most importantly, getting to know his disease. The reason for going into medicine had a little to do with the fact that I had a gregarious and extroverted personality. I enjoyed to meet people and the colonel and I hit it off immediately. Bunny, his wife, and the colonel had no children and their closest friends were from Kansas. Their last names, coincidentally, and my last name were the same. I had the good fortune to meet them on three occasions while the colonel spent his final days in the hospital. The colonel, full bird, retired, enjoyed the respect I gave him by addressing him as The Colonel and sir, the general military respect that was given to officers at that rank. He was also a fighter pilot and a good one in his day. I met quite a few pilots and they are an A personality type. I enjoyed letting the colonel talk about his fighter squadron and some of the combat missions he was a part of. He was also an avid golfer and as I, would tell him of my most recent outing. He wanted all the details, too. He would ask me why I chose a certain club for a specific shot. I better have a good reason for that 7-iron on a 180 yard par-3. He was a lot of fun to be around. Even when he was going through the chemo and radiation he tried to get strong and not let me see it affect him. He was a tough son- of -a bitch. Long and lean, which is unusual for a fighter pilot. His mind was sharp, at first. It was painful to see him when he could not remember a word or forget what he was talking about. We developed a very close personal friendship. I was repeatedly warned by my supervisors that I was getting too emotionally attached to him. They, too were my friends who did not want to see me hurt when the colonel finally dies. Guess I fooled them, huh? I really appreciated it. They were looking out for me. The colonel was a very intelligent man. I guess you would have to be to operate a $40 million dollar fighter. I spent a lot of my spare time with the colonel. We talked a little about death. Very little, he did not want to go there. It was painful to watch a 6' 170 lb. man shrivel up to almost skin with bones. His wife, Bunny, was a wonderful human being, too. They loved each other very much. It had to be hard on her trying to learn to live without your soul mate of 50 years. I just wanted you to know a little about the colonel before he changed and made The Decision. I had no idea that I would become an integral part of that decision and the results of it would haunt me for the rest of my life. It is hard for me to remember when he was a great man. What he decided to do for himself only created a monster for me to deal with. I am still fighting him, today. I wish the other colonel crossed that plane of consciousness. Things may be a different world, today. I will never know, unfortunately.      theblogmeister

Fact or Fiction; You decide.

I tried to find some stories that were similar to mine. I read some that were way out there and others that may be true. This one I found interesting. I do not know if it is true or a result of some college freshman's English Lit course. Or is it English comp. ? Hell, it has been a long time ago. The writer was believeable, so, I wanted you to see for yourself. Good reading.

When I was 17, I opened a door that should have remained closed. I was at the public library and checked out a book about demons. I was always an avid reader and to me, it was just another "horror" book, I checked out for 2 weeks. I really had no concept of demons, I believed in God, but just not so much in the other end of things. I had the concept of God and angels, and if they were truly in Heaven, then nothing bad could be there. They protected us, right? That very concept changed forever. Hello, crash course in freewill. I ended up reading the book, and the next thing I know, I started seeing the shadows. The dark ones, some looked like crows, some black cats, and then the smaller humanoid types. There was one, more human, who was taller, dark and he was everywhere. If I was reading, I could see his shadow, leaning over my shoulder as if reading with me. He would also be on the roof, hanging down peering into my window. I could see his form, blocking out light, and hanging there upside down, like a crouching bat. He had pointed ears, and I will never forget that silhouette against the starry sky, watching me. My sister began seeing these things, too. We both saw what looked like fighting, bolts of blue and white lightening that streaked across darkened rooms at each other. The most amazing occurrence was when we were at the movies and the whole theater was a "battle ground", with us being the only ones who could see the lights. In retrospect, I do believe it was "good & evil" fighting. I think I was more curious and mesmerized, than concerned by all of this going on. Until one evening, I was lying across my bed, reading as usual, and I felt a hand touch my foot. Hard pressure on the sole of my foot, grasping. That scared me... Whatever this was could touch me. The end came quickly to this situation, a couple of days later. Late one Friday night, I was home alone, and my mom and sister drove up. In the headlights of the car, my sister saw a huge demon, hairy & tall, like a buffalo on its hind legs, and it was running around the house, trying to escape the headlights. My mom didn't see it, nor did she or my dad ever see any of these happenings. My sister thought it had been after me, and she was terrified. Her fear was palpable as she told me what she saw, she told me to take care of this, and get it the hell out of our home. I was horrified. The very next morning, a Saturday, I found myself home alone, a godsend in a house where Saturday mornings were the optimum time for everyone being home. I cleansed the house, blessed the house, and got that book the hell out of there. I never saw it again at the library, even though the section of horror I perused was near where I found it. I hope it was removed from the shelves and destroyed. Funny thing, I have a feeling it never made it back to the shelves... I have a strong feeling it was never supposed to be there in the first place. The thought of burning the book never crossed my mind. I just wanted things sent back to Hell where they belonged, and all things in my world back to where they had been before. I succeeded in clearing the house of all evil, no more shadows, lights, touches, or seeing anything EVER AGAIN. The downside is I will always regret having my sister feel that horror and fear, the upside is that my faith in all that is good, was strengthen beyond all that I could have imagined. I know now what's out there, and I will use my belief to send it away every chance I get. I hold that faith close to this day.
  These things were getting stronger, more brazen, and I never want to even consider opening ANY doorway again. I was uninformed, stupid for doing that, and utterly ignorant for bringing that into my home. This all occurred in a 2 week period, and I thank God, my faith was intact. I was considerably blessed that I realized the problem was growing beyond me, and that I had the strength to send it back. I hope someone learns from this... It's not a game, it is REAL. And it is awful.

Is it real? do you believe? I cannot say that the writer is basing his words on fact or fiction. What I do know, however, is the strange events in my life are true. That is what I do know.   theblogmeister

The Humming

I had to find out where or the origin of the humming sound. It came from everywhere. I stepped outside to see if the noise was caused by a helicopter. Where ever I went the sound remained the same. I did not wake up my wife. She has been through enough dealing with my two worlds. I slipped on my shoes and walked around the house. The sound stayed the same. There was one thing that intrigued me while I was outside. I have a dog that is attached to a dog run. I looked over towards her and I could see her sleeping peacefully. If the humming was of this world she would have been barking loudly. My question has been answered; it is not from this world. I walked back out on my porch, sat down, and considered what I should do next. Five minutes later and the sound suddenly stopped. I tried to figure out the reason behind the sound. I had no answer. I walked toward the kitchen to get something to drink and noticed that the bedroom's light in the front of the house was on. I know I had not turned that light on and I also am sure that it was not on, before. This bedroom has a long history in my dealings with the colonel. I had a dream that involved this room on several occasions. On one of those dreams I woke up in the middle of the night to find a bright light coming from behind the bedroom door. It was not the light mounted on the ceiling giving off the brilliant light that was coming from behind the door. That light was not capable of putting out such brilliant light. I reached for the doorknob and slowly opened the door and what I saw caused me to scream so loud that it woke up my wife. You can find the story in my past posts, I am not gonna re-tale it, here. Maybe this room has some sort of meaning to it. Possibly a portal to another plane. I slowly opened the door, once again. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up because of the past history with this room. I did not know what would be behind the door. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, my breathing increasing. A part of me wanted to close the door and go climb in bed with my wife. I know I could not stop. For whatever reason the colonel has for trying to instill fear in me I was not going to let him win. I'm no hero. To be honest, I was scared shit less. This is my house. I cannot let what I do not understand create fear that drives me away. I opened the door all the way and there was nothing in there. The light suddenly started to dim and it was back to its normal lumen. How the hell did that light put out such an intense light? I stared at the light and ceiling fan until I noticed his smell. It was the colonel. I could smell him. This is the first time he has not confronted me. Now I am really confused. This shit is driving me crazy. I said out loud, "Come out you chicken shit son- of- a- bitch." No answer. I did not have an answer, either.     theblogmeister

I am on a Roll

This is the way it happens. Maybe it is because I am spending too much time thinking about the Bastard. I can't help it. This morning at about 3am I was woken up by a very loud humming sound. It was loud enough to rattle my windows. I fell asleep at some point in my recliner, so, when I was trying to find the origin of the humming I walked in to check on my wife asleep in the bed. The noise did not interrupt her sleep. I walked back out on the back porch, where my recliner and TV is located, and sat down to figure out if the humming was coming from inside me or from reality. How can the noise transfer from one consciousness to another by rattling my windows? It would be easier for me to write it off had it not been for noise from this plane. I don't mean airplane, I am talking about two separate planes of consciousness. One would be a dream or nightmare, the other plane is one that exists that allow the spirit world to survive. I know I am sounding like a quack but I am a regular guy that just so happens to have experienced some strange things that cannot be explained by our laws of physics. It is another level of consciousness. There are examples of it happening to regular people like me every day. A woman gets a strange feeling the exact moment her daughter dies in an automobile accident. Another loses a family member and they are visited that night by their deceased loved one. This is not hocus pocus, palm reading shit that I am talking about. You know exactly what I mean. You may know someone who has had unexplainable things happened to them. There is a show on A&E called Celebrity Ghost Stories. Let me say that I am not the kind of person that watches every ghost show or believe everything I read about the occult. Most of it is bullshit. I watched that show the other night and you could tell these people saw what they said they saw. I know they are actors, but watch the show and see for yourself. There are things that we, as a people, do not know. The only thing that I know and understand, to a point, is my experiences. I do not who told me, when I was eleven, the things to save my mothers life. I can say with fact that I sat in front of someone that has been dead over thirty years and could smell his breath. Was it a dream? I don't know. There are some questions that I do not have the answer to. There are a lot of things that I can't answer. My brother was killed in 1989 and I have seen him, since. Was that a dream? My mother died in 2008 and she has been to check on me. Was that a dream? The professionals will tell you, of course, it was a dream. Like they know. I have been dealing with Psychologists and Psychiatrists for a long time. They do not have the answers. So, who the hell does? When you find him give him my email. Thanks, I'll have some answers, soon.    theblogmeister

Night Terror

The battles I have do not compare to nightmares. I have a specific demon that tries to break my soul. This demon is probably self-created. Let me say that in another way. My demon has a name, Col. DeBarge. This was a real person. I killed him in 1978 and my mind has given him life ever since. There was a point in time that I was not quite sure if the Colonel was dead. I was, and still am being haunted by this demon. If he is not of God, then he is of Satan. Therefore, he is my demon. God would not put me through this much torment for this long. That is why I am convinced he is a demon. This is no where near the nightmares that I spoke of, earlier. I have been told by the professionals that he is a creation of my sub-conscious. I, being filled with guilt and shame, am trying to punish myself because no one else did. I kept this secret for over twenty-five years. I am the reason that the colonel is dead and I have been punishing myself since that time. It is hard for me to understand that I have created something filled with so much evil. I have been terrorized by him in ways that no one should have to go through, and yet, I am being told that he is my creation. Why would I put myself through all this? That is the hardest for me to understand. Why can I not make him stop? I do not enjoy putting my wife through the horror of his evilness. She sometimes wakes up to a blood curling scream and has to spend time calming me down. She has escorted me through the house, room to room, making sure we are alone. She, at times, has to unlock and re lock each door in the house for my benefit. She has wiped my brow to rid my body of the sweat generated during my meetings with him in another world, whispering in my ear like a small child that heard something go boom in the night. She has seen the terror, been a part of it. She did not ask for any of this. I am being told that the terror is coming from myself. I am the creator of this demon that causes havoc in my house in the dark of the night. I must be hallucinating when I am face to face with his death mask. This is what the professionals are telling me. It is hard for me to believe. I will go to bed not even thinking of the colonel and several hours later will be awoke by a door slamming. I'll get up out of my bed to see where the noise came from and meet him in the middle of the night. I am not dreaming when I get out of my bed. My reality will change or I will cross into another plane of consciousness. It is not possible for us both to exist in the same world. So, I must cross into his world. What if I cannot make it back into my world? Is that how people vanish from the face of the earth? So far, I have been able to get back into my world. Will a day come that the celestial door slams in my face and my existence on this earth is over? I do not have that answer. I wish that I knew for sure.     theblogmeister

What You Can Do If You Have Nightmares

A nightmare is a dream that occurs during sleep that brings out strong feelings of fear, terror, distress, or anxiety. Nightmares usually happen in the second part of the night and wake up the sleeper, who is able to remember the content of the dream.

•Generalized anxiety disorder

•Night terror

•Post-traumatic stress disorder

•Sleep disorders

ConsiderationsNightmares tend to be more common among children and become less frequent toward adulthood. About 50% of adults have occasional nightmares, women more often than men.

CausesAnxiety and stress are the most common causes of nightmares. A major life event occurs before the nightmare in some cases.

Other causes of nightmares include:

•Abrupt alcohol withdrawal

•Breathing disorder in sleep (sleep apnea)

•Death of a loved one (bereavement)

•Excessive alcohol consumption

•Illness with a fever

•Recent withdrawal from a drug, such as sleeping pills

•Side effect of a drug

•Sleep disorder (for example, narcolepsy or sleep terror disorder)

•Eating just before going to bed, which raises the body's metabolism and brain activity

Home CareIf you are under stress, ask for support from friends and relatives. Talking about what is on your mind can help.

Follow a regular fitness routine, with aerobic exercise if possible. You will find that you will be able to fall asleep faster, sleep more deeply, and wake up feeling more refreshed.

Learn techniques to reduce muscle tension (relaxation therapy), which will help reduce your anxiety.

Practice good sleep hygiene. Go to bed at the same time each night, and wake up at the same time each morning. Avoid long-term use of tranquilizers, as well as caffeine and other stimulants.

If your nightmares started shortly after you began taking a new medication, contact your health care provider. He or she will let you know whether to stop taking that medication, and may recommend an alternative.

For nightmares caused by the effects of "street drugs" or regular alcohol use, ask for advice from your doctor on the safest and most successful ways to quit.

When to Contact a Medical ProfessionalContact your health care provider if:

•You have nightmares more than once a week

•Nightmares stop you from getting a good night's rest, or from keeping up with your daily activities for a long period of time

What to Expect at Your Office VisitYour doctor will examine you, ask you questions, and possibly recommend tests. You may be asked any of the following questions:

•Time pattern

◦How often do you have nightmares?

◦Do they occur in the second half of the night?

•Quality

◦Do you wake up suddenly from sleep?

•Other issues

◦Do the nightmares cause you intense fear and anxiety?

◦Can you remember a particular nightmare (one with vivid images and a story-like plot)?

•Aggravating factors

◦Have you had a recent illness?

◦Did you have a fever?

◦Were you in a stressful situation recently?

•Other

◦Do you use alcohol? How much?

◦What medications do you take?

◦Do you take "street drugs?" If so, which ones?

◦Do you take natural supplements or alternative remedies?

◦What other symptoms do you have?

Tests that may be done include:

•Blood cell measurements

•Liver function tests

•Thyroid function tests

•EEG (which painlessly measures brain waves with electrodes placed on the head)

If reducing stress, medication side effects, and substance use do not improve the nightmares, your health care provider may want to send you to a sleep medicine specialist for a sleep study (polysomnography). In some cases, certain medications may help reduce nightmares

My nightmares are the result of PTSD. As you can see there are several causes of nightmares. If you have nightmares as a result of a traumatic event that happened in your life you will need to see a professional. Don't live with nightmares, they can be controlled. If you are not having success with a therapist change therapists, do not give up. I still struggle with nightmares today and sometimes it is hard for me to distinguish them from reality. Live in the moment and have a good life. Thanks,  theblogmeister

Somnambulist, That's me

This is a tame set of symptoms that I go through. I am reliving the traumatic event that happened over thirty years ago. My nights are filled with events that are difficult to define as dreams or reality. The past nine years have been rather calm but the first twenty years were so bad that I became addicted to any narcotic that I could get my hands on, whether benzodiazepines or Quaaludes, Sopors, and the drug of choice; narcotic pain meds. That was the only way I could live with what I had done. The adverse effects of abusing these meds was incarceration in the state prison, among others. Prison was, by far, the most difficult time in my life. I was fortunate and got the best job at every prison I went to. These symptoms of sleep walking are a mild form of post traumatic stress. These were a cakewalk compared to the most severe symptoms of PTSD and that is the drug abuse. Through a process of rewiring my brain I have been able to cope and live a somewhat normal life. I had to learn a new way to think and it is the hardest task I have ever performed.


Walking during sleep; Somnambulism


Sleepwalking is a disorder that occurs when a person walks or does another activity while they are still asleep.

Causes, incidence, and risk factors

The normal sleep cycle has distinct stages, from light drowsiness to deep sleep. During rapid eye movement (REM) sleep, the eyes move quickly and vivid dreaming is most common.

Each night people go through several cycles of non-REM and REM sleep. Sleepwalking (somnambulism) most often occurs during deep, non-REM sleep (stage 3 or stage 4 sleep) early in the night. If it occurs during REM sleep, it is part of REM behavior disorder and tends to happen near morning.

The cause of sleepwalking in children is usually unknown. Fatigue, lack of sleep, and anxiety are all associated with sleepwalking. In adults, sleepwalking may be associated with:

•Mental disorders

•Reactions to drugs and alcohol

•Medical conditions such as partial complex seizures

In the elderly, sleepwalking may be a symptom of an organic brain syndrome or REM behavior disorders.

Sleepwalking can occur at any age, but it happens most often in children aged 4 - 8. It appears to run in families.

Symptoms

When people sleepwalk, they may sit up and look as though they are awake when they are actually asleep. They may get up and walk around, or do complex activities such as moving furniture, going to the bathroom, and dressing or undressing. Some people even drive a car while they are asleep.

The episode can be very brief (a few seconds or minutes) or it can last for 30 minutes or longer. If they are not disturbed, sleepwalkers will go back to sleep. However, they may fall asleep in a different or even unusual place.

Symptoms of sleepwalking include:

•Eyes open during sleep

•May have blank look on face

•May sit up and appear awake during sleep

•Walking during sleep

•Performing other detailed activity of any type during sleep

•Not remembering the sleep walking episode when they wake up

•Acting confused or disoriented when they wake up

•Rarely, aggressive behavior when they are awakened by someone else

•Sleep talking that does not make sense

Signs and tests

Usually, people do not need further examinations and testing. If the sleepwalking occurs often, the doctor may do an exam or tests to rule out other disorders (such as partial complex seizures).

If you have a history of emotional problems, you also may need to have a psychological evaluation to look for causes such as excessive anxiety or stress.

Treatment

Some people mistakenly believe that a sleepwalker should not be awakened. It is not dangerous to awaken a sleepwalker, although it is common for the person to be confused or disoriented for a short time when they wake up.

Another misconception is that a person cannot be injured while sleepwalking. Sleepwalkers are commonly injured when they trip and lose their balance.

Most people don't need any specific treatment for sleepwalking.

Safety measures may be needed to prevent injury. This may include moving objects such as electrical cords or furniture to reduce the chances of tripping and falling. You may need to block off stairways with a gate.

In some cases, short-acting tranquilizers have been helpful in reducing sleepwalking episodes.

Expectations (prognosis)

Sleepwalking usually decreases as children get older. It usually does not indicate a serious disorder, although it can be a symptom of other disorders.

It is unusual for sleepwalkers to perform activities that are dangerous. However, you may need to take care to prevent injuries such as falling down stairs or climbing out of a window.

Complications

The main complication is getting injured while sleepwalking.

Calling your health care provider

You probably won't need to visit your health care provider if you are sleepwalking. However, discuss the condition with your doctor if:

•You also have other symptoms

•Sleepwalking is frequent or persistent

•You perform potentially dangerous activities (such as driving) while sleepwalking

Prevention

•Avoid the use of alcohol or central nervous system depressants if you sleepwalk.

•Avoid getting too tired and try to prevent insomnia, because this can trigger a sleepwalking episode.

•Avoid or minimize stress, anxiety, and conflict, which can worsen the condition.


•Find a local Psychiatrist in your town




There is a distinct difference in nightmares and sleepwalking. Millions of Americans experience sleep walking but only those with PTSD are tormented by nightmares. They are not exclusive to PTSD but PTSD diagnosis are more likely to suffer nightmares.
Nightmares refer to complex dreams that cause high levels of anxiety or terror. In general, the content of nightmares revolves around imminent harm being caused to the individual (e.g., being chased, threatened, injured, etc.). When nightmares occur as a part of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), they tend to involve the original threatening or horrifying set of circumstances that was involved during the traumatic event. For example, someone who was in the Twin Towers on Sept. 11, 2001, might experience frightening dreams about terrorists, airplane crashes, collapsing buildings, fires, people jumping from buildings, etc. A rape survivor might experience disturbing dreams about the rape itself or some aspect of the experience that was particularly frightening (e.g., being held at knife point).
Nightmares can occur multiple times in a given night, or one might experience them very rarely. Individuals may experience the same dream repeatedly, or they may experience different dreams with a similar theme. When individuals awaken from nightmares, they can typically remember them in detail. Upon awakening from a nightmare, individuals typically report feelings of alertness, fear, and anxiety. Nightmares occur almost exclusively during rapid eye movement (REM) sleep. Although REM sleep occurs on and off throughout the night, REM sleep periods become longer and dreaming tends to become more intense in the second half of the night. As a result, nightmares are more likely to occur during this time. I have had some that were pure terror filled. I would not wish that on my worse enemy. Getting a little tired so I'll close by saying that drug abuse is only a temporary solution for a complex set of attitudes. Thanks,  theblogmeister

Discombobulated

I can't sleep with a brain that seems to be in overdrive. I do not take any medication that has a side effect stronger than my pain meds. Unfortunately, that side effect happens to be insomnia. I have to admit that it works in my favor. Why? It just so happens that sleep is my enemy. I wish the body could go without it. I would never have to face the colonel in his element. My subconscious mind is a beacon for the vessel of fear. Someone said that fear is a great motivator. I guess you could say that the fear of failure is a better motivator but, then again, the fear to fail may be a barrier to success. It seems to me that success is a series of failed attempts. One is not born successful. It takes risks and failures to learn what works to be a success. If you want to be good at something it takes knowledge and repetition. Knowledge is power. I am filled with cliche's. It is after midnight and I should be in bed with my legs entangled with my wife's legs. The problem is that my mind will not stop thinking. I know why Michael Jackson overdosed on the Diprovan. I have epidurals done every other month on my back and that is what they use to put me to sleep. I call it milk of amnesia. It looks like milk and you do not remember shit after you wake up. It is some amazing stuff. I do not know if MJ was fighting any demons and had to have it to get rest. Hell, if I looked like MJ I would use something like Diprovan, too. He probably scares the hell out of himself when he looks in the mirror. He got it wrong with Man In The Mirror, it should have been Parrot in the Mirror. I apologize to my loyal readers. I have read your emails. Sometimes I can't even sit in this chair long enough to post. I guess I need to get me a lap dance. That was a Freudian slip. I meant a laptop. I would not have any excuses to make. I could say Arthur came to visit. Arthritis? Ha Ha. I do enjoy writing. It is therapeutic. When I have one of those nightmares that I would put my hand on the Bible and swear they were real it helps me to come in my office and vent. The lines are getting blurred when it comes to my visits from the colonel. Fact or fiction. Sometimes I do not know. I have had paranormal happenings as early as eleven. Could the colonel be real? I swear, sometimes I question myself. Had it not have been for Lorri, I am afraid of what could have been. I do not think I could handle this on my own. My meds need to be re-evaluated, I believe. Anyway, I wanted to apologize for being AWOL these past few weeks. I'll buy a lap, almost did it, again, top and keep you more informed. Thanks for hanging in there.       theblogmeister

Can't Sleep

I never figured out what he wanted. I just sat there with him asking a bunch of dumb questions. I am sitting on my porch with a dead guy and many of you are asking what the hell I am smoking. We went over that, already. There is a reason that I am telling all this to you. Maybe I could get a little help, here? It is in no way the same as sitting with a human being. He is there but he is not there. I can see him. He just looks at me. I cannot push him or pick him up or he would not be on my back porch. He never sits down. I can't recall him ever sitting, always standing. Like he is scared of something. Let me put it to you like this; If you were at a stranger's house and you do not know how you got there. There is no way to communicate. You know that you don't belong but you can't leave. How would that make you feel? Hell, you wouldn't sit. Would you try to get back to where you had come? You do not know the way and there is anyone there that can tell you. In my case, I know the colonel and he knows me. I think he knows that he fucked-up and is trying to make things right. He does not know how to do that. I do not know where he goes when he leaves me. He has never taken anything. No flying dishes or objects. That rules out a lot. No UFO's. I have never seen him make noises but I know that he does. It used to scare the living daylights out of me. Not anymore. He makes incidental noises. Creaky floor, closing door, that sort of stuff. He seems to be aware that and tries to be quiet. Is that stupid, or what? I'd be screaming and throwing shit. I'd have new neighbors every other week. I am being stupid. There is a real sense that he needs me to do something. I just do not know what it is. The more I think about the colonel and what I did to him the more I feel that he is trying to reward me, somehow. It doesn't make any sense. This shit will keep a brother up all night. He wanted what he got, and he got what he wanted. Now, it is my turn. I'm getting tired of the game. It is not gonna stop, though. I have an eerie feeling that something is about to give, too. We will see.       theblogmeister

Others Among Us

I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He was moving fast enough for me not to see him. I could still smell him, though. I had gotten out of bed a few minutes before the news went off and heard my wife in the bathroom. I reached over to grab the remote and realized that Lorri was still in the bed. I must have left the water running a slow drip. As I started towards the bathroom the light went out. That's when I smelled him. My sense of smell is very good for someone who is a smoker. Yeah, I am one of those. Smoking or non-smoking? I do not ask if you fart. Farting or non-farting? Hell, it is getting to where us 'smokers' are having a hard time to find a place to light up. I'm getting off the subject, I know, he ain't going anywhere. What I was trying to say is that I could smell him and it would not be long before I could see him. He don't stink, to the contrary, he smells like a damn hospital. Aseptic. Those chemical smells you may find in Chem 1, look under the lab table and you will find that fucker hiding under there. The only time I ever saw him while he was alive was in the hospital so I guess he inherited the aseptic smell when I killed him. I know it could be worse. The Col. died of colorectal cancer, if I had not intervened and played God with him, and if you have ever smelled anyone that had cancer you would know what I mean. That is the worst smell imaginable. There should be a chart for smells like they have in chemistry's periodic table. Dsh-dog shit, CKsh, chicken shit, RE-rotting egg. I am not sure the winner of the periodic table in chemistry would be but I do know who wins by a landslide on our smell chart; that is cancer. To make matters worse is where the colonel had his cancer. In his colon. The tube that holds shit. This is a smell I cannot put into words but I can easily find a man that has been dead for a long time. Stay with me, I do not want to confuse you. The dead guy smells like antiseptic and it is bearable. I ask my wife if she can smell a hospital and she just looks at me thinking I need to be in one, a mental one. I know what the colonel wants. He wants me to go out on the back porch and sit with him. I have just reached the point that I am not wigging out by the appearance of a ghost and he has had a lot of practice being dead. He finally got my attention. I guess it has been a couple years, maybe? I think he wants me to do something for him. If he gives me the numbers to mega-millions when it gets way up there I'll do what ever he wants. He always does this when he needs me to do stuff. He will wait until everyone is asleep and when I get up to take a piss The bathroom light goes off before I reach it and then the back door slowly creeps open. I have just recently learned of this. We have had our times, though. Scared the shit out of me, literally. Had to change. Now I will go back there and try to figure out what it is exactly, this is an important word, Exactly, just what the hell am I doing up in the middle of the night trying to figure out what he wants me to do. Hell, he needs to get busy and give me some help. I could probably think a lot clearer if I were sitting in 105 degree sauna with some Jimmy Buffett coming out of the speakers. I do not have a hot tub and I don't feel like spending time on the porch tonight. Maybe later.        theblogmeister 

Mind or Body; What Breaks First?

  The psychological problems that I suffer are well documented in the pages of this site. The major problem is the Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome diagnosis. Not only is it the more prevalent of my mental disorders it is also the one problem I have had to deal with the longest, over thirty years. My body also has its share of problems. While serving in the military, I injured my lower back and suffered in silence for many years. I have a way of denying that age may be playing a part in my body crying out for some help. While I was a young buck I was a daredevil. We had a place where we used to spend a lot of time during the summer. It was a huge hole in the mountain filled with the most beautiful blue water. Hence the name, the blue hole. I was one of a few that would do crazy shit at that place. It was not crazy, then. Looking back, I wonder how I survived some of the stunts accomplished. We had different cliffs that we named. Three point, because of the three rocks that jutted out and was a great launching pad to clear the rock ledges beneath it. Three point was about 50 feet from the water. The one that only a few had the nuts to conquer, or the lack of brains, however you want to put it, was called first drill bit. The name came from what it sounds. It was a straight line from top to the water and was used in blasting the quarry many years ago. This was about an 80 foot jump where you had to wear tennis shoes to keep from blistering the bottom of your feet. After several people died from jumping into the water the place was gated and closed. It broke the hearts of many of the locals. We had some memories of the blue hole. I could handle all the wild stuff, back then. When I reached the age of forty I payed the price of all those idiotic stunts. That is when the pain in my back really started. At age 47, my wife and I were a team operated commercial driver. We had been driving long hauls for several years when my wife, who is suffering from fibromyalgia, had to stop driving. I did not make it but a couple more years before I had to have a spinal fusion of my lumbar vertebrae. My days of sports, diving, any hard labor were over. I have had a total of 4 back surgeries and I have epidurals bi-monthly. That is the reason I have become cyclic in my postings. There are days when I just cannot sit at the computer for any length of time. This has been the hardest, psychologically, for me to accept. My body has screamed UNCLE. I was having my epidural done last month when I told Susan, the nurse anesthetist, that she should adjust the diprovan, the same drug that Michael Jackson overdosed, because of my recent weight gain. When I started out with these epi's my weight was a mere 175. Now, I am at 217. When Susan listened to what I had to say she said we would do a little experiment. After I was given the diprovan, I was to count one Mississippi, two Mississippi, etc. She said that I should be out of it by the time I reached 5. I made it to 18 before the lights went out. The recovery room nurse said I woke up counting 21 Mississippi, 22 Mississippi. They all got a good laugh about that. Susan did promise me that the next time I came back she promised me that I would not make it to five. Thus the 64 dollar question. What will give out first, the mind or the body? God only knows.   theblogmeister