"Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to bookstores, and parks, and monuments, libraries and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. and when I leave you will finally understand, Why storms are named after people."
A visit to a bookstore
Author Clinton R. Siegle
Ender Talon is walking down a street when he notices a new bookstore. The sign hanging over the door “Enter the Magical Bookstore of Mirror Realities”. Thinking this would be of interest, he went in. To his surprise, an Owl perched behind the sales counter. Not thinking much about it, he went looking around. Searching for this is that book that might interest him.
He found “Mirror realities and their gateways” by Sir Richard Francis Burton. He knew the name. He just could not place it at that moment. Thinking something that a noble wrote about might be fun, he previewed the first page.
What you are about to read will change your life. Are you sure you want to continue? Well, that's an opening hook for a book, thought Ender.
He added it to his side and continued to read through the shelves until he came upon the most odd book. It was one of a kind because opening he saw it handwritten and filled with news clippings and what looked to be references to hyperlinks to stories references by the writer Clinton R Siegle. The title page “The wondering mind through the multiverse”. It was a catchy title, so he added it to his side along with the other book.
Then he found himself in a shelving area where there were maps. Now this was exciting. The maps according to titles listed some most interesting places and seemed rather detailed from Ender’s memories of reading stories about the land of Oz and Wonderland. He found one with a collection of different themed stories that he loved as a child. The author Claw the pirate made him laugh. Wondering how on earth a person could legally use that? Then again, he supposed that they could use pen names in any manner of fashion.
With these three books, he went back to the entrance. He set the books down and looked for someone to ring him up. The owl hopped down from his perch and was about to touch the books. Ender said, “Ah?”
The owl replied, “That will be seven gold pieces, please.” Now this was earth, and talking owls were something new to Ender. His shock must have registered something on the owl’s face.
The owl said, ” First time here I see?” To which Ender was a bit taken back. For this was his first time hearing an animal outside of parrot talk. Ender replied, “Um, yes, and who are you?” The owl sort of fluffed his feathers and said, “Mr. Whoo, at your service. I own the place.”
Ender was wondering what seven gold pieces were valued in dollars? He pulled out his Mastercard. Ender said, “I was wondering if you take Mastercard?” Mr. Whoo looked at the card and at Ender.
Mr. Whoo said “So, you are not a normal person are you?” Now this was something to think about for Ender. Because as far as he knew, he was as normal as could be. If some might be wrong with him, a bit abnormal or below normal for most people. Ender's expression must have registered something with Mr. Whoo. who then went to a book, opened it up and looked through several pages.
“Well, according to time and space, light currency money exchange would normally be 2100 dollars. However, that is with inflation for the time you were living in to that time of it being written. Which does not seem fair? So, according to time travel placement of the books and you seemly un-normal way of just entering my store Willie nellie the first book original sold for 8 pounds English which is in today’s dollars 24, the second sold original for free to a person who picked up a personal diary of one of the few Mandela Effected people to survive the movement of souls to the eighth realm of reality however I paid two books worth 10 dollars and need a profit so I will sell it to you for 12 dollars, and the maps book?” Mr. Whoo looked it over. He appeared to be thinking for a moment. Then said, “I will sell it for a storybook of yours once you get back from some of these places or for 16 dollars?”
Now Ender was thinking. He was off to go to cooking school, and traveling to anywhere was not in his plans at that present moment in time. So, spending 42 dollars on what he had expected to spend 24 to 18 was a bit more than he had planned on at that moment in time. However, this being a mystery that he did not remember having special powers to speak to animals nor wanting to miss out on the stories he thought must be in the books he pulled out his cash. He paid the money and said, “Mr. Whoo, may I ask where am I? I thought I was walking the streets of Bozeman, Montana and evidently I am no longer anywhere near there?”
Mr. Whoo chuckled with a reply “Sir, you are where you think you are however, who or what or how you got to this shop is a mysterious to me as your shocked face was to me when you heard me speak.”
Ender wondered for a moment. And thought before leaving. “May I look around once more, because if this is not a dream there were books here I wanted but just felt like not touching at that moment because they looked too expensive and I am curious on what I might miss out on?”
Mr. Whoo replied, “Why certainly, sir.” And with that went back to his perch, leaving Ender to wander the shelves once more. He went back to where he had seen the book titled “The true ending of two of the daughters of the House of Romanov”.
Ender picked up five more books of various interests and went back. Mr. Whoo was excited and added everything up to 83.50 this time, and Ender asked for a card or street directions back. To which Mr. Whoo chuckled with the reply, “When you least expect it you will find me again, sir.”
And with that Ender left the bookstore and found himself close to Baucus, his favorite of all you can eat soup and bread cafe in downtown Bozeman.
Ender had just gotten into the Baucus. He worried that all you could eat bread would be out. He asked if there is any left. The cute waitress replied, “There’s plenty left.”
He opened the first book he got from the bookstore Enter the Magical Bookstore of Mirror Realities, the title “Mirror realities and their gateways” by Sir Richard Francis Burton. After reading the first chapter about how a column in a mosque in Egypt had a way for it to hear the entire world and if asked brightly, you could listen into anyone or their thoughts, Ender exclaimed out loud, “It’s not real.”
The next bread and soup arrived by this time an old man came by. Ender knew him. Malcolm Storm. His great-great-grandfather used to own all of Bozeman and their old mansion now a frat house was on an enormous block with much of it looking like a park walked by. Malcolm said, “So you have just seen the other bookstore?” Ender replied, “How did you know that?”
Malcolm laughed and sat down. He then went into a story about one of the many stories about him purchasing books from Mr. Whoo. It was quite a story.
Ender asked, “How does one get back there?” And Malcolm with a wink says do not look, just do what you were doing when you found the bookstore for the first time. To which Ender thought for a while. He had just been wandering the streets of Bozeman, like Robert M. Pirsig had done thinking how much time and money he was wasting on non-practical ideas being thrown out to him and when questioned? The professors always seemed to take offense to their ideas being asked to be explained. That was why he was thinking of quitting the whole thing.
He then noticed his book on maps. Claw the pirate, a piece of paper or map was hanging out. He reached for it and pulled it out the realm of the Baucus sort of swirled away. Somehow he was sitting on a bench in a forest near water and he could hear the most beautiful voices ever. He looked around and his pack with the eight books was there and three loaves of bread and his wine glass was there but to be anywhere in Bozeman? He had no clue where he was at?
Putting on his pack adding the loaves of bread and drinking the wine storing the glass in his pack the best he could he checked his shoes, socks, and found that he still had the service cloth napkin which he was thanking God for because he was out of Kleenex. After this preparation he left towards the singing. To make sure he could find his way back? He walked in a straight line using stones, and twigs picking up other items every few feet so he could look back and see where he came from.
What he thought was a river turned out to be a beach for a rather large lake or an inland sea for the water was not salty. The music or singing he finally found was a party. Now, the singing was in some language Ender had never heard before and was wonderful. There were women playing in the sea, and to see the other creatures dancing around Ender thought he had gotten stuck in some Mad Hatter story. For there was either the best custom party Ender had ever been or there was a real life goat boy, a girl who modesty made Ender think maybe he was in some sort of Mardi gra for she was dancing wildly with either nothing or very little on. And the ladies in swimming? Ender wondered about the wine for surely they had fins tails and no legs. Maybe Disney's new theme park?
But, how? When a man walked by with a pitcher of? Well, Ender had no idea but somehow the glass that he for sure had in his pack was in his hand and now full of what was white wine. Seeing others drinking it, Ender went with the flow.
After the first sip? Ender was sure he stood and watched a cloud for maybe two weeks. The clouds were there and the party went around him. However, time itself? He was sure he was just watching and not doing anything. And then? A person showed up he recognized. At Baucus the cafe the painting of the drinking deity was there and this? Well, this was almost an exact replica. Or Ender had ended up in the picture maybe? Who knows. All Ender knew was Baucus was there and the Mermaids were somehow now transforming into some of the most beautiful women Ender had ever seen.
Ender had known some beautiful women. How? Being abnormal he was one of the few people that would make a person feel connected if they ever were given a chance to talk with him. And? He had listened to some of the wildest women and men in the world. His world at least. How? He wandered into places that people often were lonely. Why? He was usually looking for food. When he would sit down they would come up and tell him their stories. From Seals, to wild women, to murders, to drug users. He had survived two reservations and other places realities that many of his friends or people around him had not lived.
So when Ender looked and realized the most beautiful women were there and the music was lovely and they were dancing he asked to join in. Now how? First he used his hands to indicate could or would they mind? At first there was a bit of a lag. Meaning Ender dancing moves was like syrup considered to the women and other creatures dancing around.
Then a hush came over everyone. A lady and gentleman showed up. A whisper and this time Ender could understand the words. Whatever the wine was allowing him to hear. It was high ole German. The word rae or king and queen finally reached Ender's ears as people were bowing to the two.
Just looking at the two Ender realized who they were. He had seen them in pictures of a book describing some Scottish pastor being kidnapped a long time ago. Ender bowed even though he felt no need. Ender was after all a citizen of the United States after all was he not?
The king looked at Ender. And spoke. Now it was not really speaking, it was a dream or thought. Wildly. Ender felt the future and saw the king of fae and Ender drinking under a mountain watching a cloud for two weeks. And the complete story. Then?
The Mermaids started to pair off with faes and other creatures until there was a cute one dancing alone with Ender. They danced until? Who knows it might have been one day or months. For Ender the whole experience was like a dream. Her smile was pushing the boundaries of scary for Ender. For watching the rest he could see the shameful acts going around him and wondering where all this would end up.
Finally, Baucus came by with the King of fae again and a third man or Merman for his beauty was truthfully like those of ladies. The Merman then said something and magically the Claw the pirate map book was in his hand. The three sort of stared and looked at Ender for a moment and then laughter which was so wild that if Ender was not normal he was sure madness would have occurred.
Then the conversation happened and the next thing Ender recalled that everyone and everything was under the sea. Seems like a glass fish bowl wherever the sea was at.
Ender looking down found looking down that he had fins now and was moving with the lady who had been dancing still and her smile was that of something else. Something that showed such pleasure he was a bit worried about what had happened. She came up and said only one word “Rico”.
With that word Ender found himself back on the bench where he had first entered this reality. His pack was still there checking all the books still there. The wine glass now had changed into a goblet of some metal. Wondering what to do he checked for the cloth for a napkin because a Kleenx is one of the most important things on any adventure. Sure it was there along with something else a new map. Was it from the Clae the pirate book? Ender was not sure. However, looking at it he found that the bench was the entry point to what looked like a path to a sea and a city under the sea.
I had just moved to town. Exploring the streets, I came across a bookstore.
The sign intrigued me, so I went in. The front counter was unmanned. And not a soul could be seen in the shop. were
I went to the first shelf of books. Wild. Indie books. Hundreds of them all printed. Opening a cover of a book titled: Bolivian Time Traveler. The book immediately impressed me with the adventure story. A writer trapped in parallel spacetime worlds. Traveling back through time to watch the end of the time of tribulation. The author. An expat from Montana. He wrote about how he had awoken been kidnapped from his reality. And lived day by day in parallel realities so close to him that few people would know the difference.
Setting the book aside. I turned to the next book. The Mystery of Shade and wood stamps. An introductory book to Chiaroscuro. Turning the page. They delighted me to see the dark printings of master works. The light caught the edges of the sculptures. Making them look shadowy.
Reading more into the book. It gave details of the first painter to use this technique as an Apollodorus Skiagraphos. The mystery here was the book showed old photos of his work. However, from the dates ascribed to the photos and works shown made me think this was a fictional book. Reason? Some of the color photographs were in Russia in the early 1900s. To be more specific. Czar Nicholas’ personal library collection of antiquities was in some subtitles. Reading more into the book. The author seemed to show that the library still existed and that KGB still had control of it. This made me smile. KGB had not existed for some time now. So I looked at the published date 1969.
I suppose the book could reflect what the author knew. The book ascribed a certain magic to some paintings. Reading on. The author followed up with a story. Of Skiagraphos last known painting according to the author. There were three photos of Czar Nicholas. One holding what looked like a miniature vase detailing hunting with dogs. A portrait of some man. And a temple.
Reading farther into the book. I discovered more detail about how the technique had gone out of style for a time. Then reappeared with Leonardo da Vinci. Here the author again showed photos of works from the 1900s. One with Czar Nicholas holding a lovely, shadowy woman. Subtitled Mona Lisa. The book in Russian subtitle also had an English translation. Which seemed to show that Czar Nicolas held at one time a miniature Mona Lisa painting. Then the next photo showed a larger version of Mona Lisa. Seemed to show that they took the photo in Saint Petersburg 1903.
The book went into details. How the KGB was hiding some of the more notable Skiagraphos paintings from earlier times in a cold vault. The author detailed how underground vaults and cities were being prepared. To keep humanity’s history alive. Now, I knew this was getting into fictitious reality. Why? The author detailed how Stalin had put together a plan to hide the best of the best communist. In cities underground. Then to use Russian resources to build large cities hidden so that no satellites could see them.
Seemed to show that the USSR considered prepared for an invasion from space as a likelihood. Let alone that. But the author spent a chapter detailing how these cities of the shadow. How they would or could be constructed in secret. From key cities in Russia’s underground railroad.
Someone evidently used the paintings as subtitles secrets. This was to hide how the USSR used two million slave laborers. To carve tunnels outside of the great Russian cities. Into underground bunkers designed to withstand attacks from space and nuclear war. The book went into details of the shadowy realities. Seemed weird to me.
I read the next chapter, which became even more of a shock. The author wrote a complete story of how two of Czar Nicolas’ daughters escaped. Then lived in the shadows outside of Russia. My rough memory of the chapter.
The tale of the princesses from memory, mind you. The author of the book named Jack.
The group on the train is a combination of US and British soldiers with train men from the states. Jack got to know the brake man. He learned the entire group was off to save the Czar Nicholas II of Russia and his family.
The train adventure was something out of an old medieval war story. The train, being a steam engine, would puff and stop due to the lack of coal. Several times along the way they put the whole attachment forth to cut wood, and or look for coal. Jack was useful knowing a little Russian and Yiddish from his grandfather. Jack also got to learn how to slow the train down by applying the brakes going downhill.
One time people were out searching for fuel for the train. A group of locals dressed as Mongolians attacked the train with swords and arrows. The sentry with the steam-powered machine gun made temporary work of them. The British had to bribe both the White Army of the Czar, Bolsheviks, wild revolutionaries, and the Red Army of Vladimir Lenin. To get through the Siberian train railroad. Bribing into the White Army was easier said than done. A lot of the old Czar’s military felt betrayed by the Czar by his lack of leadership. One White General even ordered a bayonet charge against the train. While it was pulling away from a station. The tale of that ride brought me back for several visits to Jack, the junkman in Terry, Montana. There was the Japanese army of a million men who were taking up positions on the road. The bribe was a jewel the size of a baby’s fist to the general in command. Different groups attacked them several times. They held the train with three machine guns and a cannon.
One of the more memorable tales was. When Jack’s train had to back up fifteen miles because of no side rails to let the train of General Kaledin by. Jack’s wild story here was more reflective in his face. Talking about how hard braking downhill was easy, but keeping a whole train at a steady pace. Sometimes on how going backward in snow was terrifying. After that he was tired however because he knew some Russian and Yiddish he was forced back to work.
The tale Jack had. Described as General Kaledin. Then invited the officers, and he was drafted as their messenger for a night party. The party was like a medieval banquet inside a train. Drinking wine, vodka, and dancing with women. His tale was of several professional night ladies. The dancing, singing, and drinking more vodka and spirits than he could remember doing so in his life. All he did was watch. According to many medieval tales, the General was not such a good guy. During the night, General Kaledin required an extra bribe. Which the Brit paid several costly jewels and another ruby the size of a handful was the description.
After that the train went to two stops to find the Czar. The first was a lost venture. Meaning the Czar had been moved, and the second was Ipatiev House in Yekaterinburg. They reached Ipatiev House in Yekaterinburg. This time an American office, a British officer/royal, and Jack, as a scout, went into Yekaterinburg. The British officer spoke flawless Russian, however, no one in public wanted to speak with him. Jack took the lead, asking for some bread. Jack was a quick child. Knowing some Yiddish allowed him to ask the right kids around the train yard to find the family. Upon getting to the house, there was not much to the tale. The officers bribed the local official. They were preparing to leave with the entire family. However, the family doctor said they could not move Alexei. The Czar would not go without his son. Finally, the four daughters could go. Getting back to the train yard, there was a run-in with the locals.
One daughter was murdered there. Jack’s description was not of an execution. More like a disagreement with the person accepting a bribe. Then that person trying to retake the four girls. Anastasia Nikolaevna got separated during a melee between the Brit and five Russians. The Brit pulled out a sword and rushed the Russians, cutting three of them down and forcing the other two to flee. Knowing that name Anastasia, I asked what happened to her? He said Anastasia was next to a building when the local official pulled out a pistol. And five men rushed the Brit and were being restrained by the Brit when the gun went off. They shot Olga dead. Jack only said that after they had shot Olga that Anastasia just was not there. One moment she was and the next no sign. There was snow, so he looked but could not find her. Anyway, after looking for a few minutes. Both officers, Tatiana Nikolaevna, Maria Nikolaevna and Jack, got back to the train. That was Jack’s saving a princess tale.
The fighting on the way back across Serbia was a wild tale. Jack, on over one occasion, was put in charge of brakes for the train. While the regular trackman went to sleep. Or was repairing parts of the train which kept moving as fast to the east as possible. There were three melees that Jack gave great detail about. First was when the Red Army in front of the train required that everyone get off the train and be searched. The diplomatic papers and bribes were not working this time. So the plan laid out by the Brit rather was to engage the Reds upon seeing them and open fire with the machine gun. This was the plan. However, the Reds brought only a few soldiers to the train. Someone easily bribed them when the wrong officer was in charge. Pulling out of the blockade. Things got crazy and the machine gun was used, cutting into several soldiers of the Red Army.
The train moved along for hundreds of miles without seeing a sign of human life. Then suddenly there was a vast amount of people escaping the Red Army. The melee here was more sad. The people, Jack, said the people were just trying to escape the cold. But their numbers and rioting were slowing the train down. They ordered the soldiers on board to clear a path, which they did with swords and bayonets.
The final big melee was between the Japanese and Red army. Which had sent several thousand troops into the area to secure the railroad? This part was interesting in that the Japanese at first deferred to the General. That had let them pass through the first time. But during their passing a new General arrived. He was more honorable or had not been bribed and was trying to retake the train. The melee was short of the machine gun, cutting down several hundred soldiers in an open field.
The book said that the British officer married Titiana. That Maria ended up as a missionary in Africa. The book tale was fun.
The reader at the bookstore was reading his book. You could see the strain in his eyes. His fingers glancing swipe. This was a person who speed reads through the book. Just like a document or one-page note, but was reading an entire book in the same period as that one page.
The book of fiction he was reading he carefully was not bending. Observing this, I could think that he would not purchase the book. But he would have enjoyed the latest fiction and read it at a speed to complete it in a matter of an hour. That no one would care not to purchase the second-hand book at a new bookstore.
As many of you know, I used to live in the library during the daylight hours of the 1980s. I spent my time with Lewis, Tolkien, Jordan, Rice, before it became cool or interesting to the masses.
I spent sometime observing him. Why? I am an interesting person in my own way. To see someone be so careful and watch his movements as you could see him glance at a page and move on?
This was someone I had to meet. Why? Simple. Most of the interesting people I know. Well, they know where a good meal is at. And I was hungry.
I stumbled towards him thinking what I would say. Meaning I had not read the book. I had read something by the author a long time ago. But like most time travelers discovered that words, meanings and ideologies change. Along with the colors and realities of God’s game design.
To think once upon a time, I thought I was unique. Only to discover I was one of so many. Meaning I was part of the parallel realities. That I could step into their shoes for a day to write a story and gone the next day to see something else was well weird. Thus like most weirdos. I enjoyed finding and talking with interesting people. Why? Well, because they usually some place along the way had a soul or something unique.
I bumped into him. To see me is to wonder how on earth or who on earth let me out of my room? Yes. I am locked away behind several gates. I used to do things, and now? I look like a rag muffin teddy bear with the personality of a pirate. Of course, I had escaped my room that day to get a donut and to check out a bookstore for. Well, for anything worth reading.
He turned and stared for a moment. In that moment, I recognized where I had seen him before. Now this was something unexpected. Usually I meet one soul one day. The person's body the next is soulless. Meaning not the same stories nor soul or personality. So meeting a soul here in a bookstore was interesting.
So we put our books away. Meaning I too had been re-reading a classic. We went to eat.
https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/uf2s46/
I have told the story already of how I found the bookstore in Bozeman, Montana in 1994 which was actual 1986? If you have not read that it is called Cafe Shi.
I however kept finding the Magical Bookstore every so often in different locations throughout my life. And? Cafe Shi was not that far behind.
The two magical portal stores allowed me to time travel to places you would not believe. See things that you could not believe. Live things that only you could imagine if you did read.
The owner of the bookstore a Mr. Whoo is described elsewhere of course. And his as was his custom would ask “Is there anything I can help you with?” The way he said it and while the creature was stunning the manner made me think I was being served by a English butler or a servant of the higher class. It made me feel special for a change.
The issue? He would not accept credit cards. And required hard currency. Meaning? No fiat or paper money. Only coins. Imagine having to drag a hundred dollars worth of silver around in the 90s when the price was like 3.8 an ounce.
Nevertheless, I kept from my first experience where I was allowed a credit card purchase because of someone else there to bring along with me silver coins.
And? Well, I was stationed in Washington, D.C. A sort of meeting that is another story. With outcomes far reaching and mildly amusing. I had taken the underground rail to the Pentagon gotten off. Walked pass security on the right side of the track into the station office. From there well, the underground line to the meeting took like 15 minutes to get to. Security checks eye checks, etc. A lot of “Is there anything I can help you with?” While I dug for this paper or that pass or security badge or had to fish out a phone number to the general that I was to report to because evidently i was not on the list. Aide-de-camp of the last of the ten generals. My ass or foot which ever is used in this reality. They did not know who I was and I? Well, I was telling you a different story, wasn’t I?
Anyway, that is a different tale. Anyway, after the absurd meeting I went my way and found outside an alley the mystic bookstore appearing out of the fog.
Which was wild. Why? I was there in April. The cherry blossoms were great, and the heat was extensive. And fog at that moment in time should have been unheard of just because of the weather.
Nevertheless, there it was and fog. And I?
I had a bad day and wanted to read and escape reality, to be honest. So I went in. And?
Spend the next six or seven hours looking at books from Mona Lisa the Russian poetry by de Vinci and who had it after the Czar to some KGB general. Who evidently hung it in his bathroom to hide it from Stalin. To a rear admiral’s book of the English fleet description of the Czar’s two daughters escaping via train and living out their lives elsewhere. To a book on cloning written by a person in Billings, Montana, on cloning. Silly? No. Multiverse exists. And anything written down exists. sh.. It is a secret or a state secret. Not supposed to tell.
Anyway, I had found the Wandering Mind through the Multiverse again. The book is wildly different from one book to another. Meaning? One book the guy starts off as a military person in Florida. Another a person living in 1600s as a pirate. In yet another tale of a poor soul lost in Bolivia of all places.
Wild. I recommend you read it. The numbers don’t match. Meaning? Seems his mind is thrown into a quantum loop in yet each memory of locations, wars, etc changes. Like his description of the rapture losing 2 billion or 1.2 billion people and describing worlds where the worlds population in 2016 was at 20 to 15 to 12 to 9 billion going all the way down to 6 billion.
Very clear writing. If you don’t have the time I suggest you skip looking for it.
Anyways, I got that book and a map by one Ender the pirate. Wonderland and where to find the lost Inca gold. Rubbish? In this world maybe. But in one of those worlds I am pretty sure he describes in detail a journey he takes with some Germans of all people to a city surrounded by mountains in or around Chile/Bolivia and there? There he describes finding raw materials diamonds, rubes, etc that make a wealthy man look poor.
It was or is quite a map, and the legend and story attached to it was well worth the price. After those short hours of reading. I paid up and went next door to Cafe Shi.
There I met the author or two and we spoke of how wars, realities were going on.
Their version of reality and mine completely different and we had a wonderful time. The lady dragon hostess always right there to serve. To ask: “Is there anything I can help you with?” She was a marvel.
Anyway, we discussing a new occurrence. Videos and the like and how they reflected reality these days. Seemed like majority of them seemed to think video had killed imagination in the young. Which was sad.
Then? The story teller showed up. He was something that night. He retold the stories of Solomon. Jewish lore of the pathways and hidden WAYS.
Meaning? Solomon was a magician and traveled what is known to you as the WAYS. This time frame let me think.
Ah yes. Read the Wheel of Time by Robert or Richard Jordan. The Ways a marvellous adventure. However, if you get offered to go there, don’t unless you know who, where, and what cost you will have to pay to get in or out. From personal experience you can get lost easy. And cheap maps that say go left at the cross road often mean a dip in the road as the cross road and you will get lost in there forever. Not a very nice place. I think Borges writes about it these days. Something like a library or mirror worlds.
Anyway, Solomon in the story teller tells how he is responsible for killing all his sons except one. So? Well, he had something like 3000 women and each had a son or two or kid. And?
Well, evidently Solomon was horny in this tale and wanted a pretty girl whose mom was a priestest of Baal's for sex with her daughter or something like that. She was evidently beautiful.
So instead of killing the evil one. He asked for her. And her mom said sacrifice your son to whatever god she served.
And? Solomon said no. So she said take these grasshoppers as a representation of your sons. And he did it. And?
Well, all his sons died except the one that sat on his throne after him.
Pretty boring story as I write it here. But the story teller told it was flare and well more detail and a lot of hand motions.
Now it is custom to tell a story and receive a story. And? I had come with a story of quantum entanglement. Actually it was the last meeting i was in.
They had created life between energy etc. Only problem was the life they created was intelligent enough and seemed to think that they. ie Humans or the creators were deemed less than worthy. Meaning? It wanted to control their every action. Seemed stupid. Why create something to control them? Their plan was to create something to fight heaven.
The goal? Zombify the human population to fight the giants that come out of the ground in Mexico, China, and Turkey. While fighting them with wifi directional movement of massive herds of humans to attack the giants. And? Well in simulation if they turned 98 percent of the world into zombies the chances of success seemed high.
Problem? Zombies just are not controllable and the leaders of the worlds were this happened were eaten to.
Seems absurd I know. But I work for absurd people before.
And the moral of the story asked the storyteller? Once you taken the djinn out of the bottle there is no one like Solomon to put the djinn back again. Djinn being genie.
The trick is not to let people know how really weird you are until it is too late for them to back out. I am just one step away from being rich, all I need now is money. I am not hard to buy for. Go to a bookstore. Buy a book. Share this if you admit that you are weird and do not care. If you cannot stand my humor, then do not add me. I stay a bit overweight because it would not be fair to all the skinny people if I were this attractive intelligent, funny and thin. It is a public service really.... Human beings cling to material things that are cold as snow, whereas I seek the flame of love... For I have discovered that material things kill painlessly, but love revives us through the torments. Often people who criticize your life are the same people that do not know the price you paid to get to where you are today. Relax, we are all crazy, it is not a competition. I am the kind of crazy you were not warned about because no one knew this level existed. The greatest prison people live in, is the fear of what other people think. Had you ever listened to someone for a while and wonder who ties their shoes for them? I too. Been there, done that. Then been there several more times. Because apparently I never learn. IF you wish to understand the universe, think of energy frequency and vibration.
Humans should not meddle in the in the affairs of dragons... Humans after all taste good with ketchup... A book is a magic portal to another dimension- taken a book is better than any drug to be high on for to read brings about imagination and dreams. The secret is not to tell those that could reach this stage, but to hold onto this reality a bit by bit to make it yours. It is the first responsibility of dreamers to question the authority of those seeking to enter. Secrets after all, are only true when one and only one knows them.
To reach these secrets visiting a person that happens to see the world a little differently, such as a poet, writer, or those just a bit off and talking with them happens to open their minds to ideas. Think before thinking becomes illegal. Read before they burn or destroy the books again... Imagine before the end...
Do not wish, not to know. Because you prefer to remain unenlightened, to better be a cow slaughtered in the dark. The end was here and a poor poet I am. A hero to no one who remembers. However, within my imagination, I am someone as important as the next person an influence of good with a little naughty on the side. Someone you are pleased to know of but do not really know for sure. For how can one know a poet's heart when his words on paper, stray from politics to famous people to a cartoon drawn just recently by noon? To say I am recognizable is a short statement to those that read tiny articles or notes pinned here and there. Alternatively, poor poetry sent to people that had half a mind not read it for what is a poet, but a small person within himself caught by today's light and in the night as unbalanced as a mad hatter at a tea party with Alice in Wonderland So few actually remembers days as a poet nor see through his eyes how the world was changing due to people lack of kindness or rareness. Shame is but sadness today. Forgotten is the way to be true and heart-felt best friends to a mad hatter.
I am currently unsupervised I know. It freaks me out too. However, the possibilities are endless. Blessed are the weird people— poets, misfits, writers, mystics, painters, troubadours— for they teach us to see the world through different eyes. So you are okay with the government having the weaponry to annihilate all life on earth... But you are upset with someone who owns a rifle that holds 30 rounds? When someone tells me, I live in a fantasy world, I take that as a compliment. Never be afraid to sit awhile and think. The most precious jewels you will ever have around your neck are the arms of your children. Can you handle all this awesomeness? We are each given a limitless capacity to love and attain wisdom. To the extent we use these gifts is our choice. One cannot be spiritually fulfilled until another animal has touched one's soul. "YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH PEOPLE'S MINDS" writer's block when your imaginary friends stop talking to you. Clint the world is an odd place nowadays. Is it life of ease precisely losing its ease? Conversely, is it life accurately being what it is.
Clinton Siegle
May 1 ·
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Like many of my adventures, they start out in a library or bookstore or bar with a reading section set aside. There I was in an old part of Columbus, Ohio, the bar I guess was actually in Reynoldsburg or a section of the town close to Columbus the bar. There is a reading section. And I was drinking and reading aged comic books from the 70s. Thus I had just finished a comic and was reading the old advertisement. I enjoyed reading the advertisement in the old colors of the comic section Sea Monkeys turning the page.
An advert about the civil war soldiers, tiny ones, 150 packages with bridges, and three cannons. I had not seen the advert for some years. Next to the advertisement was an odd advert. Mr. Lee’s school of superhero training. The advertisement showed a man being splashed by water from what looked to be a teapot.
Reading more out of curiosity, the ad states to survive boiling water, sharp steel stabs, and falling into water at high heights. Subsequently, a mailing address in California and phone number at the bottom of the page. An old circle mark from a pen around the advert. Below the advertisement are the words I wish this to be true.
For the fun of it, I called thinking 40 years had passed, maybe the school had too. A person answered, “Mr. Lee’s school of superhero training.” Wondering more than anything, I asked how much was the school and if the school was still in California? The answer depends on the stay and yes, only one in California.
I asked about the classes and timeframe getting more interested in the training than I ought to at an old reading bar. The courses were specifically short-term and one could usually take a few a day or if there was a desire, a person could choose a polyphasic sleep course three weeks prior to taking a two-week course and potentially take five courses within a two-week timeframe. The idea intrigued me greatly. I asked for a course catalog. There was a pause on the phone. How certain are you about taking the courses? Was the question implied the lady did not want to waste postage on a want to be a superhero? I answered I had gone through an accident and had two months of vacation saved up. I could hear the smirk at the other end of the line. She took my mailing address.
I received the catalog three weeks later. I had forgotten so when I opened the large-size envelope, the catalog surprised me. The courses are wild and amazing.
Memory improvement which I was reading about in the library, there was a teacher who had won some recollection award of memorizing pi to 3,000 places. The first course on the catalog was on how to withstand electricity shock the teacher had supposedly taken in 30 times the amount of electricity that kills a man. Another on polyphasic sleep training to allow a person to sleep only four hours a day with a section of the program allowed to be home-schooled. More mind courses on studying to be a human calculator or memorize piano music by listening to the music once. Courses on climbing walls and acrobatics called the human spider course which says they will introduce a special trainer who will show how to mimic spider-silk and climb buildings like Spiderman. Swordsmanship hand-eye coordination course allowing a person to cut either a bullet shot at them or allowing a person to throw a fruit with a hand using the same hand to cut the fruit in half before the fruit reached the ground or sword swallowing. I took the catalog to work the next day.
Between conference calls listening to program build ups and software development, I browse the catalog circling the courses of most interest. I selected the polyphasic sleep training, figuring for two months I could work-out, lose weight, and sleep while taking on an additional five courses all within a two-week vacation period. I fill out my vacation request form and send it into headquarters. In two or three days I get a response approved.
Next, I fill out a credit card application. The courses run a thousand dollars per week plus room and board, along with the flight I figure I will spend nine thousand to learn some very useful skill sets. Skills that I gained over a brief time. I pay my first thousand for the polyphasic sleep course. Expecting something different I receive something which is not disappointing but not what I expected. A daily routine with workout instructions for the other four courses, which I applied for, including some additional daily exercises with a circle around the word most useful to become a superhero.
The polyphasic sleep course breaks the day into six-hour time tables. And one hour to nap or sleep and five hours to stay awake and do something creative or bored to death in the middle of the night when there is nothing to do. The first few days were exciting because I used the whole workout delivered. I went to the library and checked super memory books on how to improve my mind as a supplemental course book suggested. I signed up for a seven-day free trial at the local gym that is open 24 hours a day. There I took up weightlifting and a spin class to increase my flexibility. During the workday was difficult because of my work schedule requiring 9 to 11 hours a day I had to take a lunch nap, which required me to stay even later at work to show that I spent my time at work. The problem of being honest is doing the work. For two weeks prior to the vacation, I learned memory, went from 21 percent body fat down to 11 percent. I gained flexibility to do forward rolls, backward rolls, and learned to stand on my hands for 15 minutes. Those two weeks were not bad in a thousand-dollar investment.
I choose three other courses along with memory and sleep. They are sniper lessons, the ability to hit a target 1,000 meters away within a week or your money back. Train your arms to supply a superpower blow like a tiger claw and hold your breath for 6 to 10 minutes to dive to 150 feet. I had always wanted to join the military being asthma, and allergies had removed that career path, so I thought that learning to shoot while on vacation would be worthwhile. The tiger claw description and picture of Bruce Lee striking a brick with an open hand claw were enough to make me want to be fearsome. The breathing technique described about the diving course made sense to me, and I hoped it would allow me to run again because of all the pollen in the air. My breathing was hard on a normal day.
For the sniper program, I started right away on eye coordination because of wearing glasses. I learned the basic standing or offhand position. You have seen the movies where the good or bad-guy turns so that their left side is facing their target. Where to place the feet is important, like the left foot to the right of the target, having both feet about shoulder length apart. I learned the hard way to bring the rifle up to your face instead of bending your head down or your face ends up with a rash burn on your ear. Snug the rifle to your shoulder while you breathe in, brace the rifle and pull the trigger. All this I learned at Bob’s Alley gun shop lesson for those who want to buy an AK-15. Six lessons during my extra five hours two weeks prior to going on my vacation. Luck had me stumble upon a coupon which allowed me in for free. The other four main firing positions: kneeling, prone, sitting, and squatting. I was going to learn on my vacation.
The tiger style kung fu punch required me to start right away by doing pushups. Then strengthening my fingers by removing one finger at a time until I could do 1,000 push up normal and 100 three finger push ups. Since I started right away I also learned that there are quite a few techniques to memorize 23 stances, 17 blocks, and 15 punches. Again being cheap I signed up for five weeks of free classes at several studios and took the classes using my added memory. I learned all 23 stances, most of the blocks and the 15 punches without being able to break a brick. I also learned that a tiger punch was more of a facial palm heel racking with the fingernail punch, not a brick breaking punch. The humor of a comic book drawing brings me into the realization that the world lies often.
For the diving 24 hour gym there was a pool. However, I learned that the quickest way to be able to hold your breath longer was to lose weight. I went from 21 percent body fat down to 11 percent just adding sit ups and lunges to strengthen my stomach muscles. I started out on day one, being only able to hold my breath for 20 seconds. I figured by adding practice time and training, I could hold longer. The pushups, situps, and lunges with reduced body fat and practicing got me to hold my breath to five minutes prior to getting on my plane for my vacation.
During this sleep training change, memory workout, and adventures with kung fu, night gyms, and swimming, my mind improved on working as a scheduler. I could remember dates better and conversations better cutting down on a lot of recollection and rework of other people’s indecisions during reporting periods.
Day of my flight was exciting. However, there was a complication I got called into work. Working on the Orion program was fun. Meeting people that were building the future spacecraft to go to the asteroid belt intensely. The program continued to have problems both technical and technical. The technical issue was an engineer whose quality inspection of safety to the parachute system cost an additional fifty-five million dollars to show that the mathematics of her probability would never come true.
On one of the many teleconferences that I had to listen into the inspector started yelling and screaming that math proves nothing.
Myself, I was curious enough to open the document, which was a probability statement. The charges to fire the parachute had to malfunction then the door would have to hit the parachute line not once, but eight times. The end summary was a one in 32 million chance all eight charges would fail at once hitting the eight lines attaching the parachute causing a fatality. Then the math is simple enough for me to understand. So I interrupted the teleconference being only an analyst person new and tired of hearing a woman screaming about a probability. My question is pretty simple. Which part of the math statement in the equation did she not agree with. Silence on the phone. She did not reply. Her comment after a time was to ask who asked and what right did I have to ask it. I responded to who I was and in silence. Someone was laughing; I think they thought they were on mute. The woman just was silent. The meeting continued in a different direction.
Since I had to present my information at the end of the meeting, I was quick and precession in detail on my topic. The meeting ended, and I stayed online to finish the minutes. I had not cut off the conference call when I heard two of the NASA team members talk.
Anyone on? I tried to get my mute button off, but the headset and paperwork on my desk got in my way. The tone - laughter “Well, that was an unexpected meeting,” said a person. “Yes, I thought (name of the woman) was going to explode,” said the other. “Who is Clinton?” I was not sure which asked the question. “He took over for Shirley.” “Well, he is trying to do his job and keep the program on schedule.”
“Yes, I wonder if no one has told him we are punting the program until 2021.” “What? Why?” “Unofficially technical problems. The entire program is going to be oil canned for two or three years. After that I will bring it back. By that time, the government will announce that aliens have contacted them.”
This conversation took place so fast that by the time I got the mute button off, that was what I had heard. “Forgive me,” I said as the conference call talkers hung up. I finished my notes from the meeting and sent them out and checked out.
I hurried to the airport. Arriving in California via route of Utah, I introduced myself to a lady that boarded there in Utah. Her name, believe it or not, was Pink. She was not wearing anything Pink in fact she was very Gothic all in black. She was interested in me. Looking back, I guess losing weight and having muscles does pay-off. But at the time I was more into listening to her talk. She had a voice that could melt your heart. She was going to California for training and, if I understood correctly, a singing career.
We both got off the plane, and it surprised me to see her trying to catch a cab outside. I was going to stay at a youth hostel and needed a ride as well. I asked where she was going, only to discover we were going to the same location.
We caught a ride together on Sunday late, having been on a plane for eleven hours and working four hours that day I was tired. The hostel had nice bunk beds and a community shower. I locked my stuff up in the locker, put on shorts and went to shower. Not seeing a man or woman sign, just seeing shower signs, I went in and got ready for a shower. Surprise when Pink waked in the buff. At least they did not shave her from the eyebrows down. She had hairy legs, and underarms she pretended to cover up. My adulthood is what adulthood does when seeing beauty. She said something like looking for a shower to shave. I turned around, trying not to ogle her anymore than I had already done.
She laughed, which like music to my ears. “Silly boy,” and out she went to another shower. Instead of a relaxing warm shower that night, I was freezing cold. Though parts of me stood out.
That night memory lessons, pushups, sit-ups, and leg curls got me to sleep well for my hour. During the dead of night while sleeping, I felt a warm embrace. Pink whispered something like I was cold. Thinking of the cold shower, I could agree with her. But she embraced warmly, and we slept an hour away. Getting up, she was already moving, too. I had to ask her if she needed more sleep. She laughed again at that wonderful sound. Now she was going to Mr. Lee training in the morning. Surprised, I asked what classes.
She was going for breathing training to help her sing, and two other classes which, as I recall, were not on the list. I asked how she got into the two and her statement was evasive.
Arriving at Mr. Lee’s training school was a let down. The building is nondescript.
Entering with Pink, I give my forms to Ms. Olive. She looked it over and gave me a box to put my stuff in. Then handed me a suit showing a dressing room. Pink just went to some place.
Coming out in the suit, a guy introducing himself as Jim met me. He was to be my shooting instructor. He let me know he was a former Marine sniper who had gone through a lot of additional marksmanship training. The class had me and three ladies. The instructor started out with the standing position. Stating that the position is the hardest, and the rest required less concentration because of balance. Somehow I had missed that part at Bob’s gun shop. In the first position standing, I nailed the target at the starting distance. Then the next five distances. It impressed Jim. At the longest distance, I hit the target again. Laughing Jim said I was a natural and to sit out while the ladies did their practice run.
Linda, a fitness instructor real good. However, she missed the target after the third distance. She swore like a person with personal issues. Jill, with her dear eyes, did not even hit the first target. Jenny, a soldier, was out to prove something for the first five targets, only missing the last one but getting the corner of the target paper from the farthest distance.
That was my first class. Jim took me aside and said I should pay splits instead of for a full class. Not understanding, he said that my natural ability would waste if I spent the entire class with sniper training and that I should try to get into another class but only have to pay for one. That was my first five hours.
Sleeping on the floor, I awoke by Jill. I am not sure why women were coming onto me. But she was comfortable so I embraced her for my hour nap and slept like a baby.
Getting up, we both did exercises together in silence. She went to her next class, which I believe was how to be a human spider, and I went to my class on how to throw a punch like a tiger.
The class instructor was a lady. She introduced herself as Ms. Claw. There were three of us. The two guys, Bob and Robert, snickered at Ms. Claw. Myself, I was a bit intimidated because she looked like a supermodel with muscles. She asked each of us about our training and background while looking over our paperwork. Bob had a long list of belts and studies. Robert was a boxer. I felt like the newbie that I was out of place. She instructed Bob to throw a punch Tiger style open palm at a board. His fingers clawed the board, making long scratches. Ms. Claw asked Robert to do the same. Instead of an open palm, he broke the board with his fingernails. My turn and all I could do was the tiger open palm punch, which left nothing on the board. She then instructed us on a personalized unique style of punch and said to throw a thousand punches at a punching manikin. After which they gave each of us an extra set of sit-ups, push ups and to run a couple of miles. Not having run anytime in my life since high school, I asked about timing. She said just run it to get your muscles to work.
After all that, I went for my nap. Bob and Robert went out to the club. Again I found myself awake for a moment by Jill. Her dear eyes made me wonder. I was about to talk but she just closed her eyes and slept, as did I.
The third class was on memory. I entered and was surprised. There was me and Pink in the room. She was silent. The instructor walked in. Introduced himself as Mr. Wizard and asked questions on what techniques we used. I had used a short version of remembering four to six items in a roll. While Pink explained she was using a memory palace to story her thoughts. Mr. Wizard was impressed with Pink. She had memorized almost every top 10 song from country to rock for the past 20 years. He asked me why I did not use the memory palace technique as well. I explained I did not have a home that I could recall where to put everything. He provided me with a question about where I liked to eat or favorite fast food place. He then instructed me to use that place to store my ideas or a library. Being more open to a library, I used one that I knew from heart as a child. Pink did not speak to me through the class. At the end of the class, Mr. Wizard gave me a book and informed me to memorize it by tomorrow. And with that, the class was over and time for me to nap.
I went to nap on the floor. This time was a bit more awkward. I awoke to find Jill embracing me with Pink holding me like a love pillow. But I said nothing, just sleeping between the warmth.
Getting up, I did my regular sit-ups and push ups. The ladies got up and went elsewhere.
Last class was holding my breath. I entered and Pink was there. She was stretching splits backside facing me. She smiled, looking upside down at me. The coach, a world class swimmer from the Olympics Ms. Green introduced to holding a brick and trying to stay down there as long as you can. I jumped in with the brick. Five or seven minutes later, I awoke with Pink breathing into my mouth. I think she knew I was okay because she used her tongue. The class was a bit more interesting after that Ms. Green required me to lose another two percent body fat and do extra pushups to build up my chest. Pink seemed more interested in looking cute.
After the class I said thank you so much and offered to pay for a drink. Pink accepted.
Pink loves rum and well so do I. We drink and tell stories of fun, love, and we get to good friends. The timer rings on my watch, time to go to sleep. We walk back to the hostel. This time I did not even think. I just curled up with her and slept like I was a teddy bear in a little girl’s arms. I get up with the clock ding and start push ups. Pink gets up and takes a shower. Somewhere along the while Jill came in and hugged, spooning me the hour away. She just smiled and slept a bit more.
They informed me getting back to the sniper class I that my target hits had gotten me a chance to switch to another class if I hit everything that day. I could still stay if I wanted, but the decision was I excelled good as is. I hit the targets. Then I got surprised and well, I wanted to try the cyborg build class to see what I could do for my leg which was missing. Walking into the class, there was no one there but an instructor who did not introduce himself. Just asked what I wanted. I asked for help with my prosthesis. They then asked me to sit and watch a welding and molding video. Excitingly, I could build a model with a 3D printer of my leg replacement with springs and shocks which would allow me to run faster than I could in high school when I had my foot. By the end of class I was excited to have a rough model of a leg that with springs and shocks would allow me to run. I had not run in years because of the pain and effort it took to balance. I went to sleep with Pink and Jill with a smile on my lips. For whatever reason, Pink and Jill both kissed me. I am happy and well other parts of me showed that.
Getting up I went to kung fu class. Ms. Claw instructed on a new technique and requested all of us to add a 1,000 punches within the class time. She meant to increase our speed by requiring the punches within that class time. I tore a fingernail off and did the additional punches. My tiger claw I could now scratch the board a quarter of an inch and break a brick with a punch that I had learned.
Sleeping Pink was not there, but Jill was. This time she was more active because she wanted something or was moody. Her hands brushed me in places and held me in an embrace that was strong and wild.
Getting up, I did my exercises while Jill stared and smiled.
Going to memory class Mr. Wizard had us memorize Pi to 300 places, and the first couple of pages of the dictionary using the palace technique. I was having difficulty but could pull off the answers to most of the questions on the words asked and got to 212 place of pi before flubbing up.
Going to sleep in the hostel, only Pink found me there and hugged me for that hour. She was tired.
Getting up to go to the breathing lesson, she spoke. “Are you interested in me,” she asked. My response was more of a way of realization. “Yes” She just smiled and asked, “What about Jill?” “Yes” Her smile got even bigger. Breathing class this time was different. They paired me with Pink and the instructor Ms. Green said to do deep breathing while kissing. This was something new, but the thrill was there and Pink was into it. I think I again passed out but awoken by Pink’s tongue.
Getting up, I exercise and go to my classes. I checked my phone which I had turned off. The first 49 messages were about a problem and that I should cut my vacation short and get back there fast. The 50th was when they fired me. Unexpected.
That day, to some relief, was close to my last day. But there was something new. Mr. Lee training school was holding a job fair. Being without a job, I went. Now this was different. There was a white, gray, and black line. Choose one and be happy. Looking down the path of each, I noticed my old company’s logo on the white path so I decided not to go that way. I could see nothing on the gray path and well, black was more like my mood, anyway.
Going black I did not realize because the sign covered that significance but that would change my life forever.
I put my resume in with a short term contract to guard a library of historical villain books. The owner showed for whatever purpose that he owned the books and was afraid of people coming in to steal them. Loving books, I asked during the interview if I could read some of them and the interviewee just stared like I was the first person to ask that of him. Anyway my first bad guy job was to guard a library of books.
I got there at the appointed time and was assigned to walk a catwalk with shelves upon shelves of ancient looking books. The titles were in French, Italian, German, and a few in English, which were rather scientific about the life and death of such-and-such. How to turn ore into metal, etc.
They centered the vast collection on the shelves in a reading room which I got to pass every 30 minutes. There was a table with an enormous book guarded by what I was told not to touch booby traps, etc. I watched night after night and saw that the whole booby trap was a plate sensor which was rigged to a blow gun.
I got to speak with the owner of the book a few times more than the other three guards. I asked if I could borrow one of his books titled how to build a spacecraft by Nicola Tesla. The owner whose name shall remain anonymous agreed upon the condition that I write a summary of the book. Since he was allowing me the use of the book, I agreed. The book is wonderful, full of explanations and ideas that would have been useful at my old job, but now I had the leisure to read while staying up. My memory courses were useful in that I even remembered some of the math and chemistry described once when written about later in greater detail.
Working nights and reading days I just got a flat with Jill and Pink which I used as a storage place. When I had time off, Jill and Pink used me as a sleep pillow. The owner of the library allowed me to check out books after working there for four months and providing him with summary reports.
One night at home I found a third lady had groped me and was hugging me. She introduced herself and started talking about my employer as if he was bad. I took a picture of her and went to work. At work I showed the owner her picture. He knew her and called the other two guards together. They had seen her, too. Because of their lack of communication, they reassigned. I later learned the owner let go those two because of this discovery.
Anyway I kept on reading and summarizing and got involved with a plot to hide the read book and show a false book which if followed would cost whoever stole the book more money because of a chemistry of O2 a single O misplaced in the formula making the whole formula unstable and deadly.
The night of the attack took place. The entire night was normal until the attack. One moment paying attention to the shadows and doing a tiger exercise in which I hit the intruder without realizing she was there. My tiger claw sent her sprawling. She somersaulted correctly. But then the training Mr. Lee class had provided.
She was a professional, for two knives flashed towards me. One stuck me in the chest, a bulletproof vest took the impact while the other knife I blocked with my elbow guard. She was up and moving towards the book. Not sure if the trap had fixed or not and trying to do less damage to the books on the shelves, I tried to stun her with a throwing ball which I had been practicing with at Mr. Lee training center.
I threw the impact was a deadlier than I expected, shattering her face. She went down for the count. By this time, the owner had shown up with a few more backups. Seeing her, he examined her. Looking at me, he said she was dead.
This was my first time killing anything. All my life I had read and been nice now to become a killer over a book.
I called the authorities, the police took my statement, and the owner provided a video recording of the whole action fight. My hitting her by accident made me look like I could see through the dark. For she was not seeable and upon examination I discovered her outfit to be fitted with cameras mirroring her surroundings. Luck was with me. Getting done with the police and work shift, I went home. Luck is a fickle friend.
Clinton Siegle
Shared with Public
Scoundrels are what you make out of people with a bit more flare than the common bum. To be worthy of the title scoundrel, what they need is flare. Think magic in the air. When talking with his hands, a trick happens which is scandalous in certain areas. Yet, not all scoundrels are the same.
I had met the person over a diner counter. How? I was hungry and followed my rule. Pick the biggest means looking person and ask him where he dines out. Why? Big people know where the wonderful cooks are in a city. All I can say is do not do this in Buffalo next to the old Boy Scouts headquarters in New York even a pink skin talking to a huge African American freaks me out. But this was another time and place. He was mumbling to himself. I asked if I could read the paper; if he was done reading the dime paper next to him. Because the meal was taking longer than expected. I think this shocked him.
Instead of the paper I had a conversation with a Vietnam vet for 30 minutes, 20 minutes of it while I picked at my chili and fries. His stories were interesting from who he had seen on tour there to ambushes to secrets from the first nuke used to destroy a dam in Vietnam. All hush-hush according to him. Who knows, maybe he was the guy who murdered 35,000 people by blowing up a dam in Northern Vietnam. Surely was not I to argue. My little brother in my frat was from that era, and he told stories that were hush-hush too. From going into other countries tracking people to capturing a Chinese official too well. Other things best not told in this day and age.
I think the question I always wondered was were any of their stories true in all realities or just certain realities? For I told him stories as well. I had known General Douglas MacArthur’s personal bodyguard. I had interviewed Bo Gritz for president in 1992. I had worked with Les Thatcher, both commanders of the special forces in that time frame, and told him a story per story.
This was around the time that McCain had recently said we should have stayed and won the war there. The scoundrel laughed when I mentioned that, telling some story about how McCain got cleared from blowing up planes and other things aboard his own carrier once upon a time because of his father. I had nothing to say I was finishing my meal.
He then gave me a small book. It was interesting. I sat for 10 minutes and read what I could. Because I could see he wanted to talk about what was in it. Have you ever heard about Alice and the looking glass? That book told some distinct realities that had happened and according to the author, which I was assuming was him. He had seen.
From time travelers being invented by the Germans in a distinct reality used by aliens claiming to be the lost civilization of Babylon, from a distinct reality that God let go to see what humanity would become without his help. To a civilization where no Muslims or Mormons existed and the reality where Byzantine Empire ruled the entire world and created spaceflight in the 1500s.
It was great fictional work, however the problem with that was there were photos. This was before photo shop and other magical picture applications, so I was pretty sure I was reading a history that somehow existed somewhere somehow.
I finished as much as I could because I was late to a meeting and asked if I could see him again sometime? He just smiled and said not around here however he gave me a bookstore to look up.
I never got to go to that bookstore. However, in 2016 I can verify from my personal experience that most of what I read was true. That the part where the book talked about Nixon winning in 1976 and 1980 instead of earlier were true. And in that timeline there were super soldiers that developed that I could not believe in his stories, having dealt with people in that field and for being a peaceful soul known to put a few of them on their ass.
The event I am talking about? Took place in 2016. For the world of me, I was on one side of the mirror worlds and the path opened up. You laugh and say how and what do I mean? I was, shall we say, always an interesting person? However, on Wednesday Bayer purchased Monsanto in April 2016. And? A few days later they purchased again for as if the news was the same. That was when I noticed changes.
Like? For me and Hillary Clinton Abe Lincoln on Sagittarius planet earth on that mirror world, https://www.tiny.cc/deadsunfall he was a senator for four years. The population in April 2016 which I got my information from Deagel because it is a collection of all US government information said there were 365 million US citizens. South America was directly below North America and the US voted on the second Tuesday in November means 8 through 14th.
Since then? I have been traveling the valley of the shadow of death. Most people do not believe me when I tell them they are dead and reanimated however I am who I was and I know what I see. Some call this purgatory. Some call this Daniel 12 2. Others call this the Mandela effect.
I think the best I can find is a story I can find that explains my fears? In my world Zachariah talked about nuclear war and the destruction of the army coming towards the holy city. Where? Your bible actually talks about zombies and for those taking Bill Gates’ patented cryptocurrency Borg. People laugh and laugh saying you are nuts.
For me? I figure this is where my soul will finally get back to its original body and learn whether I Was a kind soul or evil soul. I surely hope not a lukewarm soul. I could not handle another seven more evil spirits in me. I have a hard enough time these days repenting for my desires for revenge. What is scary however is I see Psalms and David and Solomon talking about the burning of the evil ones as dead grass? I realize that has already happened to my world.
I know December 12, 2017 Hawaii got nuked in some realities. I know other realities where CO2 gas came from all the oceans and went in land for 500 miles, sort of freezing to death in a matter of minutes the entire life in its path. I realize people say how can this be the dead we are not the past and I say you are the past. You live under a mirror. Prove it?
The real question is there a chance for change? Can humanity repent in this current reanimated state? That is something I still can not figure out. I know how scary this story is. For if JC Penny was on an older world of 6.5 billion years and this earth is supposedly 4.5 billion years is called JC Penney which came first? MacDonald’s for Big Mac or McDonald’s?
Can a closed time curved loop traveler leave a story to change your mind? No war. Be at peace. Pray? Repent? Or is this just a wasted story? That is something I don't know anymore. I do write my journal and post them from time to time. I always wonder if anyone reads them.
Clinton Siegle
Shared with Public
Scoundrels are what you make out of people with a bit more flare than the common bum. To be worthy of the title scoundrel, what they need is flare. Think magic in the air. When talking with his hands, a trick happens which is scandalous in certain areas. Yet, not all scoundrels are the same.
I had met the person over a diner counter. How? I was hungry and followed my rule. Pick the biggest means looking person and ask him where he dines out. Why? Big people know where the wonderful cooks are in a city. All I can say is do not do this in Buffalo next to the old Boy Scouts headquarters in New York even a pink skin talking to a huge African American freaks me out. But this was another time and place. He was mumbling to himself. I asked if I could read the paper; if he was done reading the dime paper next to him. Because the meal was taking longer than expected. I think this shocked him.
Instead of the paper I had a conversation with a Vietnam vet for 30 minutes, 20 minutes of it while I picked at my chili and fries. His stories were interesting from who he had seen on tour there to ambushes to secrets from the first nuke used to destroy a dam in Vietnam. All hush-hush according to him. Who knows, maybe he was the guy who murdered 35,000 people by blowing up a dam in Northern Vietnam. Surely was not I to argue. My little brother in my frat was from that era, and he told stories that were hush-hush too. From going into other countries tracking people to capturing a Chinese official too well. Other things best not told in this day and age.
I think the question I always wondered was were any of their stories true in all realities or just certain realities? For I told him stories as well. I had known General Douglas MacArthur’s personal bodyguard. I had interviewed Bo Gritz for president in 1992. I had worked with Les Thatcher, both commanders of the special forces in that time frame, and told him a story per story.
This was around the time that McCain had recently said we should have stayed and won the war there. The scoundrel laughed when I mentioned that, telling some story about how McCain got cleared from blowing up planes and other things aboard his own carrier once upon a time because of his father. I had nothing to say I was finishing my meal.
He then gave me a small book. It was interesting. I sat for 10 minutes and read what I could. Because I could see he wanted to talk about what was in it. Have you ever heard about Alice and the looking glass? That book told some distinct realities that had happened and according to the author, which I was assuming was him. He had seen.
From time travelers being invented by the Germans in a distinct reality used by aliens claiming to be the lost civilization of Babylon, from a distinct reality that God let go to see what humanity would become without his help. To a civilization where no Muslims or Mormons existed and the reality where Byzantine Empire ruled the entire world and created spaceflight in the 1500s.
It was great fictional work, however the problem with that was there were photos. This was before photo shop and other magical picture applications, so I was pretty sure I was reading a history that somehow existed somewhere somehow.
I finished as much as I could because I was late to a meeting and asked if I could see him again sometime? He just smiled and said not around here however he gave me a bookstore to look up.
I never got to go to that bookstore. However, in 2016 I can verify from my personal experience that most of what I read was true. That the part where the book talked about Nixon winning in 1976 and 1980 instead of earlier were true. And in that timeline there were super soldiers that developed that I could not believe in his stories, having dealt with people in that field and for being a peaceful soul known to put a few of them on their ass.
The event I am talking about? Took place in 2016. For the world of me, I was on one side of the mirror worlds and the path opened up. You laugh and say how and what do I mean? I was, shall we say, always an interesting person? However, on Wednesday Bayer purchased Monsanto in April 2016. And? A few days later they purchased again for as if the news was the same. That was when I noticed changes.
Like? For me and Hillary Clinton Abe Lincoln on Sagittarius planet earth on that mirror world, https://www.tiny.cc/deadsunfall he was a senator for four years. The population in April 2016 which I got my information from Deagel because it is a collection of all US government information said there were 365 million US citizens. South America was directly below North America and the US voted on the second Tuesday in November means 8 through 14th.
Since then? I have been traveling the valley of the shadow of death. Most people do not believe me when I tell them they are dead and reanimated however I am who I was and I know what I see. Some call this purgatory. Some call this Daniel 12 2. Others call this the Mandela effect.
I think the best I can find is a story I can find that explains my fears? In my world Zachariah talked about nuclear war and the destruction of the army coming towards the holy city. Where? Your bible actually talks about zombies and for those taking Bill Gates’ patented cryptocurrency Borg. People laugh and laugh saying you are nuts.
For me? I figure this is where my soul will finally get back to its original body and learn whether I Was a kind soul or evil soul. I surely hope not a lukewarm soul. I could not handle another seven more evil spirits in me. I have a hard enough time these days repenting for my desires for revenge. What is scary however is I see Psalms and David and Solomon talking about the burning of the evil ones as dead grass? I realize that has already happened to my world.
I know December 12, 2017 Hawaii got nuked in some realities. I know other realities where CO2 gas came from all the oceans and went in land for 500 miles, sort of freezing to death in a matter of minutes the entire life in its path. I realize people say how can this be the dead we are not the past and I say you are the past. You live under a mirror. Prove it?
The real question is there a chance for change? Can humanity repent in this current reanimated state? That is something I still can not figure out. I know how scary this story is. For if JC Penny was on an older world of 6.5 billion years and this earth is supposedly 4.5 billion years is called JC Penney which came first? MacDonald’s for Big Mac or McDonald’s?
Can a closed time curved loop traveler leave a story to change your mind? No war. Be at peace. Pray? Repent? Or is this just a wasted story? That is something I don't know anymore. I do write my journal and post them from time to time. I always wonder if anyone reads them.
The greatest destroyer of peace is abortion because if a mother can kill her own child, what is left for me to kill you and you to kill me? There is nothing between.
Mother Teresa
Abortion was the start to kill the babies
No one cared
Hospice started killing the elderly
No one cared
Tea Party members were targeted by the IRS
No one cared
Soon the poets will be next
Who will care?
Fearful of this life
The difference is I have met death a few times
This last time was a wild experience
Making me realize this is just chemistry in time
Living love within laughter is all we have this time
A right to lifer bombing and killing an abortion clinic worker is wrong
What is wrong with this world?
To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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I am a reader
Making me a bit weird in this world
I say that for a few reasons
I am the only guy sometimes in a bookstore
I am the only guy checking out books in the library sometimes
I am the only one trying to roller-skate with my kids sometimes
I am the only one doing my own thing sometimes
Accomplishment wise is wild, this time
Thanks for sharing with me
Recommendation is wild this time
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
Confucius
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Failure hello again
You are like an ole friend
I believe we should exchange business cards or emails
That way you could at least send me a note when before we met again
I have failed in business friend
I have failed relationship friend
I have failed family relationships
I have failed courses friend
I have failed financial friend
My health failed yet again friend
I have yet to make it to the rung of my ole life
I failed my kid request of a dog friend
Failure I am not yet a human again
Why don't you call me again
Failure I am going to visit you again
Where are you going to met me again
Ole failure friend
I did try again a few times to
I did succeed a few times to
Thanks for letting me try again ole failure friend
A review a change here or there
Could make this a great prose or poem too
Thanks for reading ole failure friend
We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.
Mother Teresa
Unwanted been there
Unloved am there
Uncared for allot of time there
Poverty of family life wicked
Poverty of being unwanted is wicked
Why have a relationship if not to be wanted
Poverty of being unloved is evil these days
Live a life worth living in laughter for a wealthy family
Uncared for being so sad
Living working in the land of plenty I see the uncared for
So sad how people are uncared for
Be wanted find someone who wants you
How that is the question these days
Be in love find someone who you can love
How to find someone to love these days?
Be caring be kind these days
How to be loving is being kind these days
Clinton Siegle