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Sept. 18, 2008 And I can’t find my way home, No I can’t find my way home. - Blind Faith The sun was low in the sky, and it seemed like at those times it was much hotter than any other. The radio show the evening before said that though there were supposed to be many sun spots on the sun these days, that there were none that were discernable by the scientists. What did it all mean? It had, perhaps to do with many, many things. Apparently, there were many strange things going on in the world, in the galaxy, in the cosmos. Maybe the world was ending, and maybe it was a great transformative period ushering in an age of awareness and compassion. There were the lectures that Jacob Ellis had listened attentively to on the screen the night before, and now amidst the unforgiving, life giving, paradoxical galactic light, he was thinking of the lecturer. His name was Alex Collier, and he was an Andromedian contactee. Jacob Ellis had liked listening to the man and his message, which was the Andromedian message. The sun continued to glare. There was a woman waiting for a bus. She was above medium height but not quite tall enough to be called tall. She was dressed in a white blouse and medium length light green skirt that came to above her knees. On each knee was an X. They didn’t look like tattoos. The only thing Ellis could think of was that they were markings made by a doctor for an operation. As strange a picture as she presented, there was probably some prosaic explanation for her marks. The vehicle kept moving as the light turned green and left the lady with the strange knees there, in the humidity, hand cupped above her eyes, perhaps squinting, looking for the bus. Ellis thought that Alex Collier was a powerful and impassioned speaker, obviously a good man, better than good. Made from a different mold. Made from more of a truthful mold than many others. Ellis kept thinking of the name for some reason, and the things that had been said about the origins and destinies of man. He remembered something, something very strange that he had cataloged at the back of his mind. Once, when he was younger, he had experienced another humid day, and it was about the same time, when a sort of Indian summer sun shone through the sky, parching everything below, seemingly on the entire earth. Ellis had been walking from a bus and there was a short stretch of ravine he had to walk through to get to his house, which was the first one at the beginning of the ravine. He walked by a yard and was stunned to see that about ten of the most peculiarly dressed people, if they could be called that, were in the yard, and looked like they were slowly practicing some kind of human movements, but appeared odd, like mimes or circus performers of some sort. They were dressed in the strangest clothing and this clothing spanned all colors. Who were those people? What were they doing there? Ellis was frightened that they would look at him. One of them did perhaps look at him, the main one, which was a man, with dark hair. Ellis thought that one day he would undergo hypnosis and try and figure out if there was anything he could remember about how they looked, but more than anything, as frightening and disconcerting as it was, it was the feeling he got when he looked at them that he wanted to recapture. There was something of an intensely deep feeling about them that Ellis never completely forgot. The vehicle continued on and Ellis hoped for rain at some point to come and break the humidity. He ate one of the two apples that he had brought along. He thought of Alex Collier and the night before, of the strange lady at the bus stop moments before, of the bizarre people in the yard many years ago. Three seemingly unrelated things and maybe if he connected them it would be only that, only his connection, only his musings. The apple tasted sour. There were hints of autumn’s hues visiting the tall trees of the decades old district. The area populace had become oriental for the most part, and that was neither here nor there. The apple. It sure wasn’t from any tree of knowledge. If anything, it was from a tree of questions. ------------ Email: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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