Admitting love is fickle itch

Admit that I need someone? Of course. I am stubborn. Not completely fickle. However, I can tell you a story of a person I know. Actually, of many people I know that were stubborn and did not get along. However, they needed each other.

Why? Fate. People do not believe me when I tell them that Montauk project purposefully broke up families and bribed judges for injustice. People sometimes do not believe that a person is telling them a truth because they read it under fiction.

That is why I as a writer need readers and? You are my reader for this captured moment in time.

Stubbornly, I need you to realize. That if you feel life has been unfair to you. That life or fate might have been purposefully changed to make your life a living hell.

If you accept that premise, the rest of this story is not absurd.

Say for forty-five years you had to listen to the same story repeatedly.

It made no sense to you. Why? Thus in your reality story telling was lack lusty and the person telling the story told the same story with no tone adjustment or expression and you just wanted to run away or cover your ears or at times look the person in this story. Then repeat their story back to them and say so what. IT makes no sense in what we are doing now, and it made no sense forty-five years ago when you first told me the story.

Now say the person died. Which person the storyteller or the story listener? In this case, both are dead now. However, I was the listener and say you wake up and find that person a live.

And? They tell you the same story over again however this time they tell you one bit of the story you never realized for forty-five years.

And?

The lady in said sad story fell in love with an Indian. And? Well, she was white and married white and did what white people do. AND?

She had a son and divorced and?

She ended up working on a reservation for thirty-odd years. AND? throughout her son’s life she complained to him about this is this and that is that. And told the same stories over and over again, leaving out that she had fallen in love with an Indian for forty-plus years.

And? She had gone to work on the reservation because she felt that she could belong there. And?

For all that time she made life an interesting experiment for her son. Why? She needed to be needed. And?

Evidently she needed to be needed there, I suppose. However, for the beginning thirty-odd years. Her son thought she was nuts because all she did was complain. And?

He never realized she needed to be loved by someone he had never known or even knew until he started to shift through time.

And?

The absurdity of spacetime is that some place that mom did marry that man. And?

That son telling you this story did not exist. Meaning? Accordingly to Solomon everything has been done under the sun. And? Fate is real. And? Montauk project is real.

Their whole objective was to split apart that happily ever after story so that heaven could not be accomplished per some fickle storyline. Meaning? If I am telling you this and it is truth to me. It might be truth to you. That fate has a set of rules to live by. and? I am found and dead to be honest, and someday I will not be here. Meaning? My spirit is all you got now. I doubt my physical body exists. Or if it does, this is the secret we are all avatars of light. For if life requires plants for oxygen. And plants eat light and we eat what becomes of the plant whether animal or plant we are nothing more than recycled light and?

This game called life has been told before and is repeating during the time of tribulation. Deja vu? Sure. Or the matrix of things is breaking down. Yes. And this has to do with her spirit desiring to be with someone else? YEs. Meaning? I expect in some reality her or my mom's spirit will find her way back to her love. And I? I hope I am never seen in this reality again. Hell, which this is part of is no fun for me these days. For stubborn I be that right is right and wrong is wrong.

And?

Well, I was talking about time travel. You see, Montauk project took people’s souls and moved them to places where they would be in eternity of hell. And?

Well, if this is the breaking of the system of things which I beliwve it is. https://endertalon.blogspot.com/2020/08/the-planned-destruction-of-system-of.html I might not exist once that hell they put my mom into, and I will simply vanish.

Welcome to my ghost story.

For you see. If I exist. The perfected story presented by fate or God's story can not exist. And? If I can not exist certain other people can not exist. And?

It is how the story of parallel alternative realities continued for a long long time. Billions of years according to my recollection of diaries written saying earth was 6.5 billion years old then 5.3 then 3.4 then 4.5 billion years old.. It is how Montauk project twisted spacetime into the never ending hell that we live in now.

For me to exist means this reality is dead. And for me not to exist means this reality because I was here might never existed or was or will be according to some nazi philosopher statements in a book called Time and Belief.

What am I saying. Simply put to live a reality needs the breathe of God and if I am giving up my breathe and this reality is in my ghost story. I am dying and once dead this all of this reality will be gone too.. Don't you see. I might be a closed time curved loop time traveler. But to me you are real for today. And once I am gone. So are you.

Sort of spooky. So who needs you? I don't. But if I don't exist then you do not exist either which is an interesting paradox. For stubbornness reasons I really don't need you. However as a writer I write this hoping to inspire you to be more once more before it is to late. And yet? I know fate has already stepped in and your story is told and all I am doing is re writing someone else's story here and you do not need me and I?

I doubt I need you.