Saturday, October 23, 2010
He's been reading the MKULTRA book, as you know, and he was telling me more about what he had found. I had to make him repeat it: he was in the part that was talking about some of the torture methods. He casually mentioned burying people at the beach as if it wasn't important - silly man. All of the information is important, and he just blows off important details. Drives me crazy. But anyway: ... I remember that. If there's nothing else in my 30 odd years that I could never remember, I remember *that*. I've ALWAYS remembered that. I thought it was reoccurring nightmare. I spent a long time confused as to how I knew about the plot to Blood Beach before 1975. When I was small I dreaded going to sleep, for fear I'd end up at that beach again. I went there three times. And the last time, they grabbed my ankles and pulled me under the sand.
Monday, October 11, 2010
I was in the mountain range where I taught the army how to fly my jump ship. It was me, Choshu, my husband, and my children... and some female teens I didn't know. I looked up into the clear blue sky, and there was an airplane there. It flew closer, and I realized it was a UFO. It got very close. "Choshu, get your camera!" I yelled. But Choshu's camera suddenly wouldn't work. It was white and the parts were round, like something from a movie or a brandnew kitchen appliance. It hovered and turned and took off after a moment. Another UFO came. This one was orange with white trim. I said outloud, "Land! I want to fly your ship!" He landed to my excited surprise, and out stepped a guy in a pale grey-blue mandarin collar uniform. It looked very official. He asked, "What did you say? I thought you said -" and he said an alien sentence that sounded oddly like what I had said. I did not understand the sentence. No, I said, "Land. I want to fly your ship." "Oh," well he said. He was a White man with pale blond-red hair in a crew cut. His uniform had bars on the left breast. They were odd looking: like a square rectangle made of that metal that is neither gold nor silver. My son came out of nowhere and climbed into the ship as if it always belonged there. "Get down!" I said. "That isn't yours!" "Did you know the ship hyper drives were based on the blood capillary systems?" the man asked me. When he spoke I was infused with images of blood running through veins, as if I were watching a NOVA episode of something. "Which ones?" I asked. We had walked to the back of the ship. He flipped something like a trunk so I could see the drive, but I was too busy politely looking at his face as we spoke. "All thirty," he replied. I wondered to myself if he was insane. There were more than thirty animals in the world. I walked away to rejoin my group. He followed behind, and he kept looking at my hair. 'What are you doing?" I asked. "I'm looking for blue streaks," he said. "I know it's you." Crap, he's looking for me I thought. I also thought, well. I haven't dyed my hair blue in years. Keep looking, pal. But that isn't how the game is supposed to go, and I knew that. So after a moment of internal debate I decided to run away. I knew it was pointless. He'd find me with the sensors in his ship, but I ran. I came to a place where household items and other things were piled high. There was a square in the middle of the piles as if a room had been carved out of the things. I hid under something there and woke up. I told this dream to a friend, who did some quick research. So it is today I learned that "The International Society of Blood Transfusion (ISBT) currently recognises 30 major blood group systems (including the ABO and Rh systems)." Go figure.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
the other day I gave a call to someone I grew up with and blatantly mentioned "the others" in my head without a pause to see how she'll react. She took it in stride. She's one of the ones who mentioned that I had an "altar ego" before I was willing to accept and admit it, so it was interesting to see her speak of things as if it were commonplace between us. I told her how the MILAB situation was a bit. And then I have this faint memory as if I'd dreamed it right after (I woke up the next day with it) of having a debate with someone else about current MILAB procedure. I wanted some things changed into other ways of handling things. But I can't decide if it's because I had that conversation with my friend Margaret or because I'd went to another meeting. I honestly can't tell.