Home * About * Subscribe by Kindle
_____________________________________________
Writers of the Apocalypse * My Music
_____________________________________________

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

MILAB, Fort Polk

Well there was something going on at the building but I can't remember what it was. I talked to a person - a woman. I think my new handler now that we're at Fort Polk is a female, and to be honest I think I like her. She talks to me like a real person, and although I know this tactic from being with counselors etc for my son she's at least personable. She seems more set on observing my behavior than anything; watching the culmination of the experiment I expect. She's shorter than me, but yes. Last night it was her again in my "dream" - and I knew it was a dream so maybe dream it was. And I can't remember what was going on at the building, but I do recall my voice was the kind of voice I have when I'm directing things around the house or a gather. I decided I had to go somewhere, or maybe I wanted to talk a walk. So I left the concrete building and walked down the dirty road. The trees around me were pine, and set like a tree farm. Considering this area here is almost all tree farm, if it was a real dream I can see it being influenced by that. But anyway, the road turned to the left and there was a bump up as if going over a railroad track to a cemetery. It was well kept but tiny and rather weird there in the middle of the trees. About seven to ten young boys were there, climbing trees and doing excited boy things. I don't think they saw it as a cemetery. There was a man there observing them. I said something to him because I knew he was in charge of them, and he gave me a reason for their behavior. They ran off to my right down another road that was there. I followed. At the end of that road was a ten foot high chain link fence and signs that read, "Authorized personnel only." There was a gate house by the fence, all closed up. I went up to it while the boys ran inside and I chose not to disobey the sign so turned around. The woman had said something to me once by then but can't remember. She only came into my field of notice if she needed to. As I walked back the guard house was to my right side, and then I noticed that by the guard house was one of the little helicopters. It was an older model, painted all black and disabled the way the military does to exhibit something. It probably could seat 2 or 3 people. I looked up at it's underbelly only because I was noticing it was there. The usual wish I have to learn to fly one wasn't there. I recognized the model but only in a "I've seen this" sort of way. I noticed the helicopter had a very bumper sticker, and I found that odd so I read it. I can't remember what it said although I read it to myself several times. I remember thinking, "Oh, well it's another of those propaganda slogans" but it was funny to me anyway. The thing about the bumper sticker is that it wasn't standard sized. It was a very long bumper sticker to fit the long sentence. As if someone didn't understand bumper stickers have a standard size. I woke up in bed with no one there, and I freaked. It was because my husband was taking Stardrops to school but even though part of me knew that, I still was kind of weirded out. I know I also had a dream within a dream at one point, but can't remember that either aside from it being a repeating dream that I seem to have had in many other dreams: a bird that comes at me to attack me, and me having to squish its head to get it to leave me alone with my boot. To be precise, this last time: my army boot.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

MILAB at Fort Polk

Several weeks ago there was an exercise where I ran with my daughter into what I considered to be a swamp with a house in the middle, but now in the waking world I realize it was laid out like a certain spot in Area 51. My handler was there, and there was a tiny shoppette, and lots of military men in stereotypical backwoods redneck outfits (save 3 who wore dress blues) observing. I decided I'd lost my daughter, and that little prick of a handler started saying things to me like, "Yeah, it's not fun losing your family and not knowing where anyone else is, huh?" Basically, threatening my family. So I treated him proper Red style and turned my back on him, turned to the man in dress blues by me and poured my heart out to him. I haven't seen the little prick since. From that time to now in the waking world, our little family have been transferred from Fort Campbell to Fort Polk. We've been here about 12 days. On the 2nd night here, I was taken out of the hotel for another exercise. A short blonde woman was handling me that night. She asked, "Do you want to remember what happens tonight?" Like a fucking idiot I replied, "Only if you do nothing to hurt me." And as I began waking up the next morning I remember being very frustrated in my inner thoughts: I didn't remember a damn thing.