<$BlogRSDUrl$>
Monday, March 19, 2012

The Premonition 

When I arrived home on the evening of December 12, 1984, I had just finished the first semester of my junior year of college. On top of the world in many ways, I was young, good-looking, talented, privileged, unusual, ambitious, and inspired. Some of my male friends were even envious of the ease with which I was able to attract female companionship. As I told you recently, I adored women. I just didn't understand or respect them.

My dominant passion was following the pull of my psyche towards exploration and discovery, through art and other means. Even though I had convinced myself otherwise, women meant little more to me than sex, companionship, and fantasies. Opportunities to push the envelope with fellow explorers always managed to take precedence over everything else. I was a selfish, egotistical, manipulative, insensitive, irresponsible agent. (I know, I'm still working on it:)

It was the tail end of an LSD binge that lasted a few days. My psyche was fragile and I was thoroughly exhausted. My family had moved into the house -- a large and beautiful old house in one of the city's most desirable neighborhoods -- earlier that day. It was my parents' dream house; they still live there. They were rightfully angry with me that evening because I didn't help them with the move.

After looking around the house a little, I went to my bedroom for the first time, closed the door, laid down on my bed, and fell asleep.

Then, as fast as I fell asleep, I was jolted awake by the most intensely frightening thing I had ever experienced. There, lying on my bed, I was overwhelmed by an angry force appearing as a red light. It menaced and shook me then threw me on the floor. I crawled under the bed, scared to death, and the force's anger dissipated. The instant I worked up the courage to make a run for the light switch, the force -- now the size of an insect -- exited my house through one of the windows and disappeared. It seemed like I was awake because the dream was indistinguishable from reality, except for one detail: when I tried to turn the light on, there were two switches. The room only has one switch.

I woke up, lying on my bed, believing that I had encountered the personification of evil.

That was 16 months prior to my "fear of life" experience.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?