Saturday, 3 March 2018

When I Get Free

Tupac Shakur's "When I Get Free" Sound track on Youtube with lyrics

What will happen to me, and the many others involved in the hell happening in my life, if I was to be set free from this prison?

Simple question to ask but its ramifications are wide, as I will demonstrate.

I became a target a long time ago and I mean this in the sense life is short. Things happen in a lifetime that are but instants when other things are placed alongside the events.

People born when my targeting was beginning are grown, most are parents now. Some became leaders in large firms. Others have made names doing what they do best or are forced to do to put bread on their tables.

During this time that babies have been born, learnt how to walk and talk, I have been dealing with grounding that has seen my inherent potentials wither or atrophy for lack of use.

And I have reacted to this intrusion into my life that has wreaked so much carnage in it as well and that too is a long story.

I have developed a lifestyle, a way of coping with it all, that has seen me thrive and prosper, albeit within the confines of the prison set by the fiends. I have become good at some things while neglecting and possibly losing for good capacities and capabilities that were already evident or mere potential.

Despite the short span of time I have had the parasitic pest on my back, which is factually almost half my life, I have coagulated on a manner of coping and now, it is hard to see myself living a normal life when the threatening, vile entity that wandered unannounced and uninvited and was definitely not welcomed into my life, is removed.

I was a very young man when the bell for my life to end was sounded. Studious and energetic, hungry for knowledge, I was already conscious enough in my early twenties comparison with highly conscious and creative types like the amazing Tupac Amaru Shakur would not be far fetched.

I soared higher than many can believe possible and there was even a point when I found myself able to predict thought in others. This means, if conditions were just right, I could know what you were going to say the next moment and even say it for you before you said it.

Must be what frightened the so called "Free" Masons.

My coping strategy was already in the making as soon as I realized they were on my back and that they were never ever going to let go. I went on the run with rug sack on my back containing everything I consumed or that which my skin came in contact with, such as creams or even toilet tissues, and when staying indoors became too risky because my home was being entered when I was away, I forced myself out onto the streets.

I became homeless by choice.

I woke up every morning thereafter conscious of their presence, checking my system for what they could have done to me while I slumbered. I went to bed checking if they were there and whether I had checked all avenues of entry they could use to attack and cause harm, lasting or not.

I sensed their presence through sounds and strange physical manifestations. I heard microwave induced sounds or pure sounds whenever I went to sleep that told me they had arrived. These sounds responded to everything I was doing so it was pretty certain they were causing them.

Knowing it was their presence responsible was not hard to do.

Knowing the ailments I experienced were the effects or result of their activities was also not hard to do.

Almost three decades down the line and sensing, dodging and feeling after effects of their fire has become a way of life for me. Protecting myself from them, knowing they are always there, knowing they will not go away unless forced, checking whether measures to limit the harm they cause are still effective, and so on and so forth, is the beat to which I dance.

Far from a normal life, right? In fact I have lived the latter half of my life as a man in a war zone and it frightens me but does not scare me to think how hard it would be to change.

I know myself. I am one tough nut. Deceptively built to look frail and soft but beneath that layer of a softie lies a man who is as hard as they come.

I will find a manner of coping, even if this will entail getting psychological support or rehab.

As I sit in my home and look at all that I have surrounded myself with, the stuff I use to keep them at bay, I realise some of it will stay till the very end of my life.

They are always there now and always come back once the threat of exposure makes them run away. They always find a loophole that they use to bring their menace back. This mission of theirs is their life. It has in fact become a matter of life and death for them to continue so they might pretend defeat when the time comes, but will slither back to reclaim their lives.

There have been times mentioned above when they have indeed buggered off, when I felt so much relief it was unbelievable. I had more energy, my intellect resurrected ... and I saw everything in a new, clearer light.

But, as always, they thrashed about and saw a manner of getting back, and returned, and it was back to the battle board again.

This sense of improved well being will no doubt be there when they are forced away. But how will it feel to have endless bounding energy and not fear they will be back to destroy it again? How will it feel to have my intellect intact and know the limits to the growth of my mentality are its own parameters as opposed to a parasite returning?

All will be revealed ... when I get free.

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