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From Day Dreams of a Spaced Out old Man comes


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My life has turned a corner I had not realized I had taken, even though I had without noticing. Until my left shoulder was set comfortably back into it's socket the pains from my body kept me focusing on anything to keep me from thinking about all the pains I felt which made me feel worse than the way I do now.

My circulation is greatly improved. Pains I had slowly faded away with some help from getting rehydrated. Thankfully I found out a way to get rehydrated with a pack of Powdered stuff to mix in the water to help. Worked good. No sitting in the hospital with a needle in one of my veins with a Sodium drip with Vitamin D from a bag filled with the fluid to rehydrate us old cus's anymore.

Thanks for putting up with me while I was trying to figure out my thoughts drifting from one pain to the next and why it was that each pain I had to reason with sent me on another path, while all I seemed able to do until reviewed any that wouldn't stop stinging my memories. Alot of my day was spent doing that until I was tired out.

I feel better.

Now! I just feel old.

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I went out to roam around the city for awhile.


I happened to stop in at a store called, the Spirit of Halloween.


I discovered they had a special Halloween grave stone for sale. It had something familar on it that was causing my mind to go to work. I knew those years on the head stone from somewhere.

I thought the tingling brain cells was excitement to add the fright to my yard decorations. The head on the tomb stone was supposed to turn around so another face replaced the sad woman's. It didn't work. It was broken. I didn't buy it. I was still experiencing the tingling brain cells.


I Googled the years on the headstone. I realized it connected me to a course I took at college. During 1973 the professor gave us an assignment to study. It was about some people in a village back in Massechusettes. When I Googled the book I purchased assigned us was where I had read and seen the years on the grave head stone marker. Only! The years weren't for a person that was born and died. I found out the years were the years from start to end of the course of events related in the book to the place in Massechusettes.


I can safely say I have completed the college course now and have enough to write a thesis upon the subject 53 years later.

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I have had one of those moments occur I mentioned in my discription about my life posted in the section About Me.

I'll get to sharing what I recalled as it unfolds from the depths of my mind.


I must say the memory seemed a bit scary. Scarier than most of my past experiences with the seasonal changes because it is bringing with the moment when I also have become awakened to the lack of bodily pains now and understand I have been unable to grasp what's been kept back from me realizing until the pains in my body began to leave me. I feel like I was awakened from a long sleep keeping me from feeling a normal life. Now that I am with less pain distracting me I am aware I have been on the brink knowing my reality, that I am old. I was old even when I started posting here, but even back then the pains kept me too busy to attend to the nature of my bodies growing older.


I was fighting the memories which each pain reminded me of like they were living beings taunting me and driving me from the fields, chasing me from the city out where I might not return from.


Ghosts mingled with thier gifts of pain left me hiding in, the long lonely darkness, my mind!


The realization of the headstone seemed to drive out their lot. But drove in another with fears that were even greater. None real mind you, now that I fully aware I am worn out a bit; and feeling old! I wasn't feeling old, because I was always ready to fight. Now I am feeling old, and ready to sleep.


Only that headstone with the head that switches around awakened that memory of taking that class in sociology. What a coindence it was, the teacher assigned the history for us to study about, The Salem Witch Trials. 1692 - 1737 in Massechusettes.

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After class I went to the book store that afternoon on September 1973. The book was a paperback. Unusual. Because all the other courses I had the books were hard cover, often leather bound or fancy bound, and expensive. I almost didn't buy it.


I skimmed over the pages. Hoping I would find some connection which would bring clarity to my curious growing alarm. I imagine the professor was pulling a fast one. Was this some sort of a joke professors played on first year student's?


I finished skimming as the store clerk began to fake a cough and began to raise attention to buy or get lost fearing I might have a photographic memory. I saw enough to want to scan it. Next step in studying books after skimming is scanning slower. I bought it.


What I never imagined was, there were more than one group of orders of cults, not just two, but several and there were two common differences. White and Black Magic cults. Salem was a large community. Not a little village. It was colony. A Christian Cultured group colony.


I took the book back to the dorm room. Practically did all the reading along the way, but still, I sat down and got out my yellow marks-a-lot. The first streak I put on the first spot inspired, alarmed, and scared me a little.


The book covered not just a month, nor even just October. A history of witch hunts, court cases, and burnings, drownings, and crushings using heavy stones to the people who were called witches to get them to confess and... For Fourty Five years .

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As I wrote thoughts for this post; when I sensed I was nearly done writing I turned toward the cup which held coffee a while ago. Not just once did I turn twoard it, but twice. It's empty!


Maybe as I was writing my mind was directing me to look beyond the coffee cup toward a bottle of water?


Maybe I prefer coffee added to that plain water now?

I would have to get up, walk along the path my mind already knows. To get there and refill the cup might let words go, I may have, I really want to add to my post. Because, my mind would have to go along with my body.

Ah; Well! There is water there. It's water now if I feel a letter or two might combine into sensible words if I have anymore to post now.


A gurgle made as the water made it's way to care for the urges assured me the water did me good.


Isn't it amazing how we know from experience and can visualize prior to going to or from a set of icons we have in our image producing thoughts? I see a cup! I imagine what could be in it. Then I know what it would take to get it filled with some water, flavored or plain. I have to get up! Why?


Why isn't my mind able to reason with that cup and get it to go and fill itself and return? Magic!


I need some extra will power to magically get what I want! That is; to get my electronically heated cup to fulfil my desires without me having to walk all the way to the place where the machine is to make more and fill the cup with, whatever I choose to make.


I must be a poor magician. I don't seem able to get any of the inanimate objects to magically move and get anything done without me! I must have to find the will power to find someone to carry out the task so the cup is never empty when I reach for it. Even if it is filled with what I need, most. Water!


I'm don't think anything about real magic making it so I may get to continue writing and hoping I may make sense of my real urgings to write. What?! What am I missing here?


Oh! The parts of my body that have suffered from injuries are receiving complaints from the parts that do work; again.


Get up and get it yourself!!!


Nothing to worry about. I know how, and may now! I hope I have nothing of further thoughts which may be written I believe to relieve others of someone else's lack of wisdom. Unimaginable tortures of my bodies interior functions for living life a healthy person who could judge, only, the exterior of my body could never know.
At least for one such case where a child is accused of being a witch I wonder if; the judge never had ever any experiences so they could judge fairly.
Did the judge never experience anything like a shadow show made with a candles light on a dark Autumn night. To make a few shapes made by twisting fingers around. I see a shadow appear. Like the one of a shadow of a bird that could be seen flying across a space on a wall, a sheet of cloth made white by the candle's light. Hand shapes to make shadow pictures on the wall, with a flashlight or an electric torch.
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Now I am befuddled!


It seems that history noted the, The Salem's Witch Trials began and were from 1692 and ended in 1693. Not 1737.


Oddly from 1693 to 1737 there were still lots of troubles caused by the fact dark evil and witches lurked about. Salem's lot, historians, left a good deal of the continued fears in the aftermath of the courts new judge letting the accused out of prison and released after his wife had been accused of Witchcraft.


For 44 years many stories were not entered into the history books about the ongoing cryisis of witch hunts and such in Salem (Salem is the word for peace in another language chosen by the locals).


Probably the rest of the witch and supernatural stuff that was mentioned was mostly of what happend after 1693 became the sales pitch from newsies crying out the headlines to sell newspapers, dime magazine salesmen, and carnival barkers attracting the crowds. Otherwise all, were untold about the people dragged from thier homes just out on the skirts of Salem and tribes (natives) who lived there before.


Out of their minds and as illiterate as many be, even today, the supernatural unknowns gained a sturdy position in all the minds of the Hallows Eve followers like me!


Sympathy, Ouiji Boards, String magic to tell if a child in a mothers womb would be a boy or a girl. The crystal ball, mirror magic, and tomes about witches lives. When alone outside in strange lands at night the songs of wild animals calling out when the Moon is full, with some being eeries cries still send shivers of excitement down a lot of peoples spines.


The lonely male wolf cry is one sad sound. If you never hear it, it's likely because you've never really been feeling completely alone out in the dark of night during a full moon.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Yup! I am just rereading the stuff I made up to help me free my spirit from where people had directed me. Thanks to a website where the people with similar conditions from diagnosises I was told have, they chat about at I found out I don't fit in. The few that did message me sent me to the Canadian modders chat site, and then here, and now I know I don't fit in here, and don't belong here.

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After another round of searching through my past to open my thoughts I find the words. I don't fit in!


I am me! Nothing anyone says to me will change me. Although many people tried. It tired them out more than it did me.


That could be why I am still alive and here.


Maybe they got old and worn out from trying to convince other people and me to change?


To my surprise I recalled making a connection to my interests before I met the first person who wanted me to be someone they would like, better then.


In the primordial pool we all began. We became what we are from very small beginnings.


I am reminded it was from a similar place I was sent, where I began. That is where I was made to do what others wanted me to. Until awakening this morning I had entirely forgotten where I was headed before and even had spent lots of my free time preparing for a future.


I awakened the past. At the moment I did energies returned to give my brain light upon the reasons for my interest in the area of study I had begun at home. I am a 74 year old student now! A student Again.


I am going to adventure in that area of study.


Where I always am being me!

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