Who Created Me?

 Part 1

It was Jacob's first day of school. As a son of Abraham, he was expected to go to Hebrew school and learn the ways of God and his religion. No, his fathers religion. He didn't adopt the religion. He didn't make a conscious choice to follow it or believe in its ways. That was done for him before he could think for himself. Now that he could think for himself, he began to ask questions. Not everyone wanted to give answers. Some did, but didn't have them. Not the answers that satisfied his appetite for meaning, understanding and true faith and belief.
He already had most of the family rituals down, so it was time to ingrain the theology that was the backbone of it all. The family rituals were easy. They were clearly explained and were justified based on mans interpretation of what God wanted and how he wished to be served. Again, only based on mans perception. God had never spoke to him directly. As far as Jacob knew, God had never spoken to anyone he knew, directly.

"Dad, has God ever spoken to you?" 

 "Well son, no, not with his voice. But with his actions. All that happens is because of his actions. And he created us. All of us. So we must just believe in him because of all that."

"Okay, but if he created all of us, who created him?"

"I just don't have the answer to that question. I am satisfied with the knowledge that he created us,  he looks out for us and he knows all. That is enough for me. I have no doubts. Neither should you. Just accept it." 
 
But Jacob was the inquisitive type. Always thinking. Always asking questions. Never satisfied with the explanations that most children were. He made his way to school. After a few days, he realized that all the teachers believed as his father did. And all the students were happy to accept that as how it is. They didn't have questions. And if they did, they were not going to ask them. At some point, they likely would not even bother with the questions. They would just accept it and become like his father Abraham. Was that so wrong? He didn't know, but he knew it wasn't how he was going to be.

  Part 2

After a couple of years, Jacob asked Mrs. Aaron, his first grade teacher some questions.

"Mrs. Aaron, do you believe in God?"

"Jacob, of course I do. How could someone not believe in God."

"Well, I can't see him. He doesn't speak to me. I can't touch him. He doesn't seem tangible. They say he created all of us, and he is responsible for anything and everything, but how do I know this is the truth?"

"We just know. There are no other explanations that make any sense."

"But what if you are all wrong, and just repeating the misguided notions of all that came before you?"

"I don't know Jacob.  I believe. We all believe. We have to believe. To question the existence of God is not something any of us want to do."

"Okay Mrs. Aaron. That seems logical. You believe because you can't think of any other way and so does everyone else. I will accept that."

But Jacob didn't accept that. Unless God actually spoke directly to him and could make his case, he wasn't going to buy it. But for now, he would stop asking questions out loud. Unlike other children though, his questions would not go away. He would just stop speaking them out loud.

  Part 3

       
The following day, Abraham was called to the Principals office to meet with Mrs. Aaron, Jacob and the principal, Mr. Bregman. The principal asked Jacob why he asked such in depth questions when the other kids didn't. 

"Jacob. You have so many questions. Other kids don't. Can't you just believe? It is a very good way of life we have. God looks after us all and we serve him. It works well for all of us."

"I wish I could Mr. Bregman. But I don't understand.  For me to believe, I must understand."

"What is there to understand?"

"If God created all of us, who created God?"

"Nobody ever asks that question Jacob.  We just accept that it doesn't matter and we don't need to know. We know that God created all of us and he is responsible for anything and everything we do. That is enough for all of us."

"I'm sorry Sir. It isn't enough for me. I want to believe. I really do. But I don't. Not without some clarity on the creation chain. It just doesn't make sense to me. I need it to make sense for me to truly follow and believe. I can't just accept that he appeared out of nowhere and no one created him."

 With that, Abraham took Jacob home. When they got there, he convinced Jacob to stop asking questions. Jacob agreed that it didn't do him any good. He didn't get any answers and only got grief. It was pointless. He decided to stop. He wanted to stop. But in his heart he knew he could not stop asking questions. That question of who created God would always be there.

 Part 4

    
He didn't know why,  but Jacob just knew he had to know the answer if he was to gain and maintain faith. As a man of unwavering faith, Abraham had no idea where this came from or what to do about it. They all decided to just let him be and hoped he would come to accept, blindly, as they all had. A few years passed. Abraham kept quiet about it all. He followed the religious rules, he pretended to believe. All around him thought all was well. They thought he capitulated like they all had. It seemed all was well.  Order was maintained. Questioning had stopped. True faith was persevering. 
Then Jacob became 13. He was now a man, based on the teaching of his religious faith. A man is now free to live and think as his own man. But he didn't feel like his own man. He felt as though he was a man on an Island. A deserted Island. An Island nobody but him wanted to live on. And nobody had any intention of coming to get him. If God was real, why did he create him the way he did to question him as he does? Wouldn't it be in God's best interests to have all believe and nobody question him? Sounded flawed. More like something like a man,  not God as he was thought of. God was not flawed. He was God. Surely, if he was God, he would not be flawed. How could he create others if he was flawed in the first place? If he was flawed and he created others, wouldn't all others be flawed?
But they were all flawed. All men are flawed. So maybe that did prove he exists. God created others in his own flawed image. Still no proof, or answers, but more possibilities to speak with God about.
His father told him to pray. So did others. Pray to God they said. He will hear you and will answer you in his own way.
Well, Jacob wanted answers. So, he tried praying. He was hoping that God would speak to him. He wanted a conversation. He wanted to question the source. If he really existed,  he wanted to hear it from him. Not second hand. If he really did exist, then he would shed some light on the whole creation theory.

"God, I am praying to you now. Am I doing it right?"

There was no answer. No response. Jacob thought about that. He thought to himself, 'I'm right. He didn't respond. There is no God'. But then he realized something. If there was no God, if there was no creation, how did we all get here? How did we come to exist? How and what and who determines what happens on earth? In the galaxy? In the afterlife? Was there an afterlife? Was God involved in that? Assuming there was actually a God, which he still didn't know for sure either way. He saw now why others chose to believe blindly in the concept of God and creation. If you don't have that, you have no answers. Nothing makes sense. Better to believe in the most flawed theory than no theory at all. It was easier to believe and ignore the possibility that it was wrong as well than have nothing at all to go on. There could be no faith in that case. That worked for them. It still wasn't enough for Jacob. But he understood better why they believed. They weren't him. It was enough for them. It still wasn't enough for Jacob.
Jacob now had no answers. He was more confused than ever. But he still had so many questions. If only there was a God. And if only he would speak to Jacob. He could at least gain some clarity.   

 Part 5

Jacob was now an older man. He had lived his life.  He had a wife. He made some children. He carried on. He still had questions. He never got satisfactory answers.  He did the best he could. Others just kept on believing. Jacob just kept on.  At times he wondered. But God never answered his call. Never spoke to him. He was now much older. Closer to death. He knew his time was short. It was then that God appeared. That is what he thought. He didn't go looking for him this time, God came looking for him.

 Part 6

God appeared to Jacob. It was in his dream, but it was still God. That is what he thought. Either way, this was his chance. He was older now and he would not have many chances left. His time was almost up. He was going to accept this as his chance and take it. And so he did. God spoke first.

Do you question me?
Do you doubt me?
Have I not always provided the guidance you seek?


I doubt you
I admit that
It all seems to make sense
But one thing doesn't

Oh one who is all knowing
One who is responsible for all that we see and know
I have a nagging question
How can you exist and be the first?

I want to believe
But my logical mind 
The one you supposedly provided me with
Tells me that it just doesn't add up

Tell me,  
where did YOU come from?
Who created you?

I am the great creator
I am responsible for all things created

I am undisputed
Except for the ones that refute my existence

But I have my doubts
For I have questions myself

If I am the great creator
Who created me?

I am with you. I don't know.
I don't remember how I came to be
I just am
I am not meant to know
Neither are you
This question will forever go unanswered
For it does not need answering 

I probably created myself 
that wont make sense to you

It doesn't have to
I created you
that I know for sure
It should be enough  

How can I be the great creator when I don't even know where I came from? 
Possibly, your collective want to have me created
created me out of nothing 
before I created all of you

Try not to think of me as tangible
As some reflection of man
Try to think of you as a reflection of me
not me as a reflection of you 

It seems to be a paradox
Chicken and egg

no end and no beginning
just a lot of middle with a direction 
both ways
but no real direction

me/you
you/me
but still, no you and some other before you
you came out of thin air, before there was air?  


what created me?
who created me?
where does it start?
where does it end?
when did it start?
why did it start?
how did it start?
Does it end?
Is there such a thing as an end?
Even if I had answers to these questions it would not give you or anybody else clarity
It doesn't matter so no one ever tried to figure it out  

Can the chicken create the egg that hatches the chicken? 
Where did the first chicken appear? How did the first egg get created?
I don't know
I don't want to know
I know this:
There was a need
A need for me
I was created to fill that need
How I was created is not important
Why I was created is not important
It doesn't enhance belief and faith

Someone needed an egg or a chicken so they could have an egg or a chicken
And one appeared so that the other could and then it could continue forever
the creation was for existence. Creation only happened because of the need for existence.  
 
You need me
You all need me
I represent faith
You need faith
Or you have nothing 

creation is not important
faith and belief are
if those that believe in me want to believe I am responsible for all creation, and that enhances their faith and belief, then so be it

You present some interesting answers
but,
you present me with more questions than answers
if you are all knowing, responsible for all
then why don't you have all the answers?
If I am to have faith in you
to follow you
to believe in you
shouldn't you have all the answers?



Do I really exist?
Am I a figment of the creations imagination?
Is there such a thing as exist?

it is not important to know who created me
it is only important to believe I created you and all
the chain goes from me to you and forward
going backward from me is for the non believer
I cant convince anyone to ponder that
nor should I try  

I guess you are right.
I am doubtful
But only because you are doubtful
But I only think you are doubtful
You are not doubtful
It is me creating a doubt within you to fulfill itself within me
And in the end, it doesn't make me believe or have faith
Even if I gained the answer
Which I will not
So, now that my time is almost gone
I will just believe
That is all that matters
I will be less logical, and more faithful.     

 My son, that is why I spoke to you now
And not before
Because now you are ready to believe
Without logical terms
Because you see, there is no real true logic
There is only logic based on faith and belief
One cannot exist without the other.    

For my existence only depends on your belief. If you believe I exist, then I do. If you don't then I don't. I am not tangible. I am dependent. 
All the others have always believed in my existence because they wanted to. No more. No less. They believe they exist, so they have to believe I exist. There is no other way for them.
There is no other way for you. Or me. 
 For I am you. If you exist then I exist. And I have always existed as long as you have existed. If you believe you exist, then you believe I exist.
If I exist,  then I believed that I was created. Even if neither of us ever figures out Who created us.
We create our own evolution. Or creation. Or both. Call it what ever you choose. Either way, it exists.
 Believe in that. It is the only truth. 

And I Was Shaking

In life, we all have things that affect us. Move us. For each person that event is different. What may move me may not catch your interest at all, and vice-versa. For some of us, there is one thing in our lives, a turning point, an event, that we can point to as something we will always look back on. Others may have experienced that same event and not felt what we did, but for us, it defines us.
I had such a life changing moment, and I will tell the story of how I got to that point and how it changed me.

I have seen a lot of bad things up close in my life. More than most would ever see. Most have seen these things on TV, or in a movie. I have seen them in person.
I have seen my father with a gun to his own head on the freeway. Yes, that actually happened. My dad did stuff like that. I have written before about how fearless, and at times, how crazy he could be. Of course, he didn't think he was doing crazy things. Only the rest of the planet thought that. Sadly, he actually believed the things he lied to himself about. The truth is, after a while you can fool yourself.
 I have seen horses shake and die very violent deaths. More than one in fact. Actually I have seen many. I have seen it on the race track. I have seen it in the race paddock. I have seen it in the barn. I saw one of my favorite horses, the first horse I ever trained, die a slow, painful death. You never forget these things. But still, my best memories of that horse are the mornings I spent with him just jogging him. The peace and quiet of just jogging and relaxing. And the late nights I spent, just me and him,  rubbing him and making him feel good. And we won lots of races. Yes, he died a very sad violent death but you deal with it and get over it. You have to. Five more horses in the barn that day needed to be trained and fed. Reality works like that.
  When I was in grade 7, as we walked from our houses to school I watched as my best friend Rob got beaten up so bad that he could have died while others watched and cheered. I saw that pattern repeated many times at that school,  while the principal did nothing to stop it. When you start to see it enough, you get used to it and it doesn't shock you like the first time you see it.
  One of the worst memories I have was watching my mother cry and shake all night, every night,  hysterically for 2 years to the point that it almost killed her. I sat by her side pretty much every night. I have never heard or seen anyone cry like that, before or since. I never knew anyone had that much water in them, but my mother sure did.
 Through all of that, I always kept my cool and never was phased. Some say that I am hard and cold feeling to be able to do that. Maybe I am. But you learn to be that way, when you don't even know you are learning it, and that is just how it is.
 I have never had any nightmares about any of them. Never lost any sleep. Sure, I was affected and I remember those incidents. But they didn't scar me.
I only remember one incident in my life that did. It certainly changed how I live my life.
After I graduated from University in 1989 I began to work for my Uncle as the foreman in his factory. I had worked the summers there as a labourer, so I knew the operation very well.
Just as I was about to start my life after University, my Uncle asked me if I would be interested in running his factory. He needed an answer in just a couple of days as there were major issues there and he needed someone who could take control of that situation. I decided and accepted the position. In the end, he made promises he didn't keep. I never forgot that, but again, it didn't really shake me. It was only a job and I was very young.
 I ran the factory for 2 or 3 years and gave my all. It was acknowledged by everyone that I did a very good job. During that time I got my first apartment and struck out on my own. Life was good. However, things went sour and because of circumstances I got screwed and was out of a job. Even though I saw it coming, I didn't see it coming enough to be prepared for it.  There was a nice cash settlement, but I hadn't organized my life financially to be able to withstand the short term pain I was in for.
I decided that I would move back to my mothers house. It was hopefully just for a short while. Because I didn't want it to be like it was before, I didn't move back into my old bedroom, but lived in the basement. In my mind, living in my old bedroom was where the child in me resided. I was not a child anymore.  I was grown and it was tough to live with my mother at this point. It was just her and myself,  as my sister was now married and moved away. My parents had split up a few years earlier and the house was very empty. Physically there was room for me.  Realistically, there was not.
We got along okay, but it was not a good arrangement and we both knew it. We made the best of it, but it was understood that I should make a plan to get back out as soon as possible. It was only 4 months later that I had a very good job interview. While I had my doubts about the company,  the job was what I liked to do. Because of that, I took the position and was back on my own within a month. Things were back on schedule. Or so I thought. I still remember that great feeling that I had when I moved into my new apartment, how I was "back". A year later, I had an altogether different experience in that apartment,  but more about that later.
The company, Predator Marketing, was a marketing and distribution firm, a start up by two veterans of that industry. One was hands on, Operations, the other was sales. They were very different people, and that showed later on when things went sour.
Basically,  the company delivered flyers that the mail carriers wouldn't or couldn't. They had solid contracts, but when I joined them there was not enough work to justify paying a large staff. Because of that, the employees did a lot of jobs and worked long hours. I was no exception to that and had never minded it.  I am a very hard worker and a team player,  so I fit right in.
I rose quickly and was a key management player in the whole scheme of things. We did okay for the first year and actually began to do a lot better. 
Right from the start however there were problems with this new job. The owners were not honest and straightforward with what they were doing and the kind of capital they had..or didn't have. Since this had happened just a year ago with my Uncle,  I had recognized it and saw what was coming next long before it happened.
They were very ambitious. Which was good. Too ambitious. Which was not good. Because of that trouble soon followed. They took on routes that required major cash flow to maintain, cash flow they didn't have. Because these routes were from big firms not in the habit of paying for about 90 days, the money ran out very fast. It came to the point that the money was running out to pay the carriers. Carriers are the lifeblood of any delivery company. In spite of that,  we kept them working. We were told to tell them that they would get paid. But we knew that wasn't going to be the case. At least, in our hearts we knew that. At months end, when it came time to pay them, it was clear the money wasn't there.
Part of the reason that I did well at the company, and at the factory working for my Uncle, was that I inspired others to do the work. I built a relationship with them. In the factory,  if someone was off sick, I would just do their job down in the trenches. At the marketing firm, I would deliver a route if a carrier couldn't do that. With some of the checkers of routes I even took them out to dinner and to bars. We had a relationship. When it came time to make critical decisions down the line,  this affected me. But more about that later.
Because of the cash flow situation,  the company was now in a Catch 22. The flyers and the routes had to keep getting delivered, but there was no money to pay the carriers. If the deliveries stopped, the contracts would be nullified and the whole thing would crumble.  In the end,  that is exactly what happened.
When things were at their worst, I watched as the two owners gathered all the carriers together,  half of which spoke or understood very little English, and then they pep-talked them into going out and delivering for two more weeks. The carriers never got paid and the owners knew they probably would not. Or maybe they did, and were like my father and started to believe their own lies. I will never know the answer to that question.
I have many images and memories from that period, but one still stands out. That winter was extremely cold and snowy. There were weeks and days when there was so much snow that you couldn't deliver the flyers.  It got so bad that you couldn't even get the flyers to the carriers so they could deliver them. By Christmas time it had worn the whole city out. Everyone was talking about it. The mayor even called in the army to plow the snow. Most Torontonians are still the laughing stalk of Canada for that.
By the time the Christmas party was gathered at a restaurant about 4 miles from the office it was clear the company was in big trouble. But no one talked about it that day. The owners still liked to act like big shots and bought a huge dinner for all of the employees. The drinks were flowing for whoever wanted them. I have never drank,  so I didn't partake. Most did. It was a good release for most, who knew that our time was borrowed in this sinking ship.
When we arrived at the restaurant it was a rather warm and sunny day. The snow had not fallen for about a week, so it looked like  it was going to be an easier chore to motivate the carriers to get out and deliver the routes.
By the time we were halfway through dinner, the snow was coming down again and by night time it was a full blown blizzard. That was the nail in the coffin. We went on for another month or so, and then the contracts were pulled because we could not meet the demands anymore.
But there was still the matter of paying the carriers. There was some money there, but we had to decide who was going to get paid, and who was not. It was like deciding which of your children you were going to pull out of the burning house and which you were going to leave. On top of that, you had to keep telling the ones you were going to leave that you were coming back for them, when you knew you were not going to.
I remember one evening, it was a Friday night. I had bought a young race horse prospect when I still worked for my uncle. I thought that I might want to train her myself, seeing as I was likely going to be out of a job in the near future. My father had said I could come live with him at his farm and do it there. Of course, that was just another one of his lies, that he believed of course, and training the horse was not going to happen for me at that time.  I ended up sending her to a trainer, and she was just about ready to race at this point.  Her first race ever.
My plan was to do a little work and then head out to see her race. It is always a rush to see a horse who was just a prospect race their first race, no matter how well they do.
As the night progressed, it was clear that I might not make it out to the race. We were there, and I had to start making decisions. Who would we pay? Who would we screw over? Until you have to make decisions like that, you just don't know what that feels like.
Time was passing away, and it got worse and worse. I would make those tough decisions and then I would hear that the numbers didn't add up and I would have to pick more carriers to screw over. Finally it was enough, I said I didn't want to make those choices and just to do it themselves. I headed out to the race, but now my good mood and night was ruined. The horse raced poorly and never raced again. I never got to enjoy even that one night.
As I got home that night I was obviously not in a good mood. Things were crumbling. It was close to midnight and I was just tired. I am a night owl, but I just wanted to sleep. I knew anyway that I had to go back to work that coming morning and hand out routes to carriers who were never going to get paid. Anyway, I was too tired, I just fell asleep and collapsed.
I have always been one who slept very soundly, but woke up several times every night. Each time, I am always able to fall back asleep right away. Not this time. I awoke at 4am and I was shaking. Like I had never shook before. And I couldn't stop it. I had lost control of it. Finally. Something so horrendous as lying and deceiving carriers, carriers who I had built up trust with, was too much to deal with. I wasn't myself anymore. Had I become my father? No, I hadn't. It bothered me that I became this way. It never bothered him. He slept very soundly. I wasn't doing that.
But what could I do? I had my own problems. I was soon to be out of a job myself. I had an apartment I would barely be able to afford and the prospect of moving back to my mothers..again...was not something I wanted to consider..at any cost. I had a horse who was now not going to pay her way, after all the time and money I had put into her.
My thoughts were to not take my salary and put that towards the carriers so they could get paid. But I was really in no position to do that. I had to look after myself, and I for sure needed the money myself. Money that I had worked very hard for. In spite of that, I debated whether I should give the money away anyway, for my own conscience. In the end, I did take less than I could have gotten and because of that I struggled for a few months. But I did not end up going back to my mothers house and made my way. The experience of it all did scar me. And change me.
Why did it scar me and how did it change me? It made me more sensitive to treating others well and how they feel pain I didn't. I had built a trust with those people and I didn't want to be the type of person that betrayed them. Lied to them. Like my father did. I didn't want to be that person. I wasn't going to be that person. I wasn't going to be my father. I had always said for years I wouldn't and when the time came, I wasn't.
Twenty years later, what I have taken from all of this is that money is important, but it is never as important as people. You can always get more money, but you can't replace people. And in your heart, in your gut you know that. When you start to drift away from that your inner center will not let you sleep at night. You simply cannot lie to yourself.
My father and the owners of the company may have been able to lie to themselves, but I could not.  I would not. When the time comes when you start to become that way, you will shake until life shakes some sense into you.
It was the turning point in my life.

The search is over

I awoke at 5am. Went back to bed. I had only gone to bed at 2:30 so I definitely needed more sleep. But I was troubled. I was still very tired, but not sleepy. This repeated itself every 30 minutes or so until about 10am.  Now I was not tired or sleepy. But I still could not get out of bed. I had no desire to do anything but just lie there and let my mind wander. My body felt like moving, but my mind convinced it to keep lying still on the bed.
This had become a repeated pattern over the years, and now was a lot more frequent than ever. Just lying there,  for an hour, sometimes hours,  my mind wandering from topic to topic. Floating all over the place,  but going nowhere at the same time.  Something was missing.
Then finally, this one time, I had to do something. Anything.
I got up and rushed out the door. I had to take a walk. There was a sense of urgency. Someone had what I had lost and I had to find it. Don't know why today seemed so urgent when I had known for a very long time, some thirty years or more, that I had lost it. But it was.Today was the day the search began again.
I had lost it. I don't even know when. I can't remember anymore. But these things don't just disappear. If somebody finds a thing like this, they keep it. They use it. I just had to get out there and get it back.
Somebody had it. I knew that. I also knew that if I saw it, I would know they had it. Even if I couldn't see it with the naked eye. I would recognize that they were hiding it and they would know that I know.
I made my way to the park. Passed an old lady walking her dog. We smiled and greeted each other. Nice lady. Nice dog. I petted the dog as he wagged his tail. He reminded me of my dog Velvet growing up.  She was always happy,always wagging her tail. She died when I was thirteen. That was a sad day.
But neither of them had what I had lost. Nothing there.
Dogs are just happy to play, to get attention,  and to eat.  They are simple. They don't need the item I lost.
The old lady didn't have it. She had lost hers as well a long time ago herself. I recognized that in her look. But she wasn't searching anymore. She had resigned herself to live without it. I wanted it back. At all costs. Time to move on. I kept walking.
Passed a few more people on the way back. Came up empty on the journey. So far, nobody had it. But I know it is out there. Somebody has it. And they were going to give it back.
It was noon now. The walk made me hungry. I had rushed out without even grabbing a bite and had walked for more than an hour. There was nothing to eat in the house. I made my way to the grocery store. At least if I didn't get it back today I was going to stuff myself full of junk food. That always placated me. Probably part of the reason that I stopped looking for the lost item was that I wasn't hungry enough anymore. That happens in life. We all have our vices and demons. The ones that distract us from the things we want and need. Junk food was always mine.
Walked up and down the aisles. I was here for the junk food, but I was still looking for my lost item. It was clear I wasn't going to find it here. It was like looking into the zombie apocalypse in here. Just blank stares and a whole lot of nothingness. Most of these people never had it and if they found my item they probably would never use it..or know they had it. I must have passed 20 people and there was nothing there. They weren't even looking. They were content to just placate in any way they could. They were like me, until today.
Gathered up all the usual items. Two chocolate bars, Two bags of chips and some gummy bears. The real fruit kind, not the cheap artificial stuff. I was now at the checkout.
I got Madge. Love Madge. She is always so nice and pleasant. She always struck me as a content person. She certainly didn't have my lost item. She didn't want it and if she had it she was the type to return it. Some people don't want or need that. She was one of those. I wasn't. I had to have it. I would never be content until I had it back. I had my taste and I wanted to get it back and taste more of it.
 As always, she asked me how my day was and how I was doing.
I couldn't tell her the truth. My day sucks. My life sucks. It has sucked big time for a long time. I lost a valuable item a long time ago and I was never the same since. How do you explain that to a nice little old lady cashier?
You don't. I said "Fine, and you?".
 She took my money with a smile on her face, as always, and I was back on my way home.
I pulled into the driveway and grabbed my bag of junk food. I headed for the door, but just as I was about to head up the steps I saw someone blocking the door. He wasn't going to let me back in my own house. Oh, and he had my lost item. He also looked very familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. Not just yet.
I stopped and dropped my bag of junk food. I was stunned. All this time I was looking for my lost item, searching through endless lost souls who clearly did not have it, and all of a sudden I was at my own front door and there was this guy who had it. Isn't that always the way? You stop looking so hard for it, and it just appears.
I pushed him aside. I was bigger and stronger than him. He was only 13 and didn't have the big strong build I did. He couldn't withstand my force. He had my item, and he protected that..for now..but he could not prevent me from going back into my own house and continuing on without my item. But to get back in, I had to leave the junk food outside..for now. I couldn't get in the house with it and I got the sense I didn't need it anymore.
I made my way downstairs, to the basement, and turned on my computer. No junk food. What to do? I decided to placate myself another way. Watch some videos. Distract myself. Anything to get away from the reality that my long lost item was now located but not recovered.
I decided to watch The Cincinnati Kid. Two hours. That ought to distract me enough to make me fall back into the trap and just linger as I had done now for some 30 years or more. I didn't know how to find my lost item,  but I was very adept at finding ways to not care about that.
I was ten minutes into the movie, when I looked to my left. There he was. The stranger at the door had followed me in. I don't know how he did it. I certainly didn't let him in and had closed the front door behind me. I was sure of that. I always closed those doors. That is how I survived without the item all these years. Closing doors made it easy to just get by. And of course, the junk food aided that cause.
I asked him what he wanted, since he came in to my house uninvited. He said he had my item and was going to give it back. I asked him why? And why now?
He said it was time. He was never going to give it back until he was sure I wanted it back enough to cherish it this time and not waste it. Leaving the junk food outside the house was the sign he was looking for. I had to want the item more than I wanted the junk food. He needed to see that. I had to make a choice and I did. He saw that. I wasn't going to get it back until I showed I would take care of it. Take better care of it this time. Cherish it and value it.
So that was it. I could never have it back until now because I didn't want it back. I thought I did. But I did not. He knew that because he was the 13 year old me who knew what it was like to want it. I might have been bigger, and much older than him, but he was the strong wise one...not me.
The search was now over. I had my passion, drive and desire back. I knew he looked familiar. He was me, when I cared enough to cherish the gift I was given and not waste it. Only then could I have it back.
He vanished, for good. He came only because I was willing to let him in,  and he left because I didn't need him anymore. I took what he needed to give me and he didn't exist anymore. That was his purpose. Now I had mine.....back.

-----------------------------------------------

Now I look into your eyes
I can see forever, the search is over
You were with me all the while

In my head

We went way back.  She knew me. She knew me very well.

At this point,  I think she knew me too well. Maybe even better than I knew myself.
Was she in my head? Yes I think so. She was in my head. Definitely.
I was thinking about posting a status, but before I finished it, she was already responding to it. How could that be?
I was totally lost at this point. Lost in her. I had drowned in the infatuation and had no air left. Whatever air I managed to breathe, came from her. Whatever air she let me have. She was my lifeline at this point.  She was also becoming the death of me.
She was the devil,  and she sucked me in with her charm. She knew my weakness,  and she exploited it.
Now she had me.  She had consumed me. My every fiber. There was no longer any me. Me was now her. I had lost me..in her.
Ok, the truth was, she was never in my head. She didn't actually exist. Well she did exist, just not as I saw her. My fantasy,  as I had created her in my mind, had taken over. She was just a woman, an ordinary woman. But I never saw her that way. She became the superwoman who could do no wrong. I had put her on a pedestal.
She had told me that she liked me. In those words, I took it to mean she was madly in love with me.
l started to believe my own delusions. Fantasy had become reality for me, and I had driven myself insane. Who could blame her really? I had done this to myself.
Anyway,  it was past the point of blame. I was too far gone and it made no difference at this point to assign blame. Could I save myself? Was there any self left to save? How would I do it if I had the will and the power to pull it off?
No, I could not. I was too far gone. The devil  was now inside me. A self made devil I created to destroy myself.
It owned me by now, and every fiber of me. Every pulse of blood inside me coursed with the power of the devil within. The longer it went, the more it took over.
How could I turn the tables and stop crying and submitting to it? I had to stop lying to myself. To stop believing my own delusional fantasies. Writing about them was one thing,  but believing them was quite another. I could not separate fantasy and reality, and I had to if I wanted to gain my true self back.
I had played with fantasy and got burned by it. Now the burns were deep..and scarring. Even if I made it back over to the other side, the scars would remain. I was changed, either way, no matter what,  I was changed.
But there was still her to deal with. Could I even exist anymore with her in my life? Could I exist with her out of my life? Was there some happy medium? I had no answer to any of that. But I had to gain that answer. It meant life or death to me.
  As I tried to sleep, all I could hear was that Alan Parsons song, and her saying hauntingly,
"I can read your mind, I can read your mind, I can read your mind".
Try to leave your false illusions behind. I was trying,  but not succeeding.  I had been consumed by her. By the Eye In The Sky, that I had created within myself.
My own creation had latched on to me and was not going to let me go. I fed the bad side of me and now it had grown bigger than me. I couldn't reverse the trend. I could not starve it to death.
I really had cheated myself blind. Blind to the power that I created within to destroy myself. I had become strong enough to make myself feebly weak.
I am the Eye In The Sky and I can read your mind. The devil now had the eyes and the vision, while I was now the blind helpless one.  I had to submit and give in to it. It was too powerful and had too much control  over my insanity.
I was now lost. Lost in a song. Lost in a fantasy. Lost in a story I created. Lost in the eye.  In the eye of the storm within me.
Nothing else mattered. No one ..or thing, could get through this wall I had created, that was more powerful than me or anyone else that would try to break it back down.
I posted a status about it, and the devil didn't bother to respond this time.  It knew it had me and didn't need to make an effort to break me anymore. In fact,  the devil within actually posted the status. I never really got to do anything anymore.
There simply was no me anymore.