Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer

Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer
And in the End was the Word, Amy's Word

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Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Bubbles of Reality 1974

In the early 1970's here in upstate New York, little girls had reason to fear. This was the time of the Alphabet murders. A total of three girls were murdered over a period of two or three years. My girlfriends and I were in constant fear of abduction. If we were out walking in the evening we would dash into the bushes when a car came by. It was unsettling to see a car coming down the road in broad daylight as well. The roadsides at our cottage road had forest right up to the edge of the road, with places to hide. While living in town during fifth grade I would go home for lunch (one block). While walking home I can recall the eerie quiet of the middle of the day in town.

A while after this time frame I recall being with my girlfriends and one asked, “Where have you been? It has been three weeks and nobody knew where you were.” That was odd to me, as I did not realize that I had been anywhere. In 2013 I had a Kundalini event. Many stories flooded my consciousness, and my mood was accelerated. One of the stories has to do with the two week long absence.

I have a distinctive memory of riding my bike home from an area near the hospital where I played with my girlfriends. The ground was sandy and wooded. It is said that it is a site of an old Indian burial ground or village It was behind a war factory. I recall a boy named Jim bicycling with me. He was leering at me and it made me feel uncomfortable. This might have been a bubble reality.

The Kundalini story tells me that while I was playing with my friends one of them took a rock and bludgeoned me to death. Next, my arm was cut off. It is interesting to note that my mother had bought a tin arm that a person could fit there arm into. It was like armor. This was used the previous Halloween to hand out candy. The day of the hit I was in Clifton Springs at the Indian site when I bicycled(in the bubble) home at the end of June.  When a death event occurs, it does not occur in my reality. I go to a bubble where all is fine.  The crime scene is in another bubble.  Some how the two bubbles must be resolved to each other.

My Kundalini story tells me that the memory of making cookies with my girlfriends (one was Jim's sister) is a bubble in which a palatable event is occurring. I was present in spirit and thought I was present physically. The cookies, were not cookies at all. The cookies were pieces of my arm flesh. I recall J and K's mothers widened eyes as she looked at pieces of my flesh spread out on the cookie sheet.  All the while my consciousness perceived cookies(while my body might have been in spirit form.)

Where is  the rest of my body in this drama? I was dumped in an automobile's trunk and taken to Keuka Lake(where our cottage was). The lake is shaped like a “Y” the part of the water where the two branches meet is turbulent, like a vortex. I was dumped into the lake so that I would be pulled down to the depths and never be found. The Kundalini event told me that the two weeks that I was gone I became a sort of mermaid creature and grew a new arm. Apparently there is a lake under the lake which was magical. Perhaps I was kept in sort of limbo  until all the pieces of my arm could be spiritually reunited after they had been digested by the community. When one's mind goes through the Kundalini event sometimes things communicated are symbolic and some are real.

  My reality is uncommon. Becoming a mermaid is symbolic of being in another realm or dimension.  Who dumped my body?  Maybe my own parents.  They were friends with people who had access to a cottage at the very end of the bluff.  Why did they dispose of me? Perhaps it has something to do with the "armor" on Halloween and the missing girls.  I can only suppose.  Whatever the reason, I came back after a three week long absence. 

This occurrence might have been when I was finished with seventh grade—thirteen years old..So it would have been after the Alphabet murders. I went to school in Penn Yan that fall and returned to Clifton Springs in January as my parents were building a house. A classmate named Lisa said to me, “Gee, I thought we got rid of you.” This was when I returned to school January of eighth grade.

I did not realize that she actually meant “got rid of you.” (as in off'ed)

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