Dear Diary #7
Despite clouds and chilly air, a few days ago, I ventured out to the farmer’s market. I ran out of dark, wildflower honey and decided to check out the nursery/market not too far from my house. As I walked around looking at the latest perennials and baby apple and pear trees, I noticed a man from the distance staring at me.
I continued to walk around, pretending not to notice him, smelling the different species of peppermint. When I made it the section that had the hives, I noticed he was behind me. He walked up to me, smiled nervously, and began to make small talk. He spoke of ordering bees in the mail because he couldn’t wait for them to collect around The Queen in his yard.
I was instantly aware of a strange sensation that coursed through my body. It was chilly but I had dressed in a light, wool turtleneck and fingerless gloves. I kept still, transfixed on him and his aura as he spoke of how unfiltered, raw honey had the best vitamins and nutrients for the body.
He spoke of Nestle, the Chocolate Company, coming into various parts of Pennsylvania, particularly farming towns, and stealing their water supply right out from under them. I told him I hadn’t known that.
“I really don’t follow up on TV,” I said.
He inched closer to me and told me of how the folks up here are signing a petition to have them removed.
I stood transfixed by him and took him in slowly.
Steel, blue-gray, empty eyes. Tiny pupils. Thin lips. Fat face. A small array of skin ulcers on his hands. Short, stubby fingers with yellowish-brown nails. Blue veins that played tic-tac-toe on his neck, forehead and around his crow’s feet. Pudgy belly, short build, tiny teeth and white-gray hair. He looked like a typical, aging, white grandpa.
But, for some reason, I was slightly uncomfortable and transfixed by this man. Over the years, I had gotten used to ( as much as one can be ) whites coming up to certain black people and wanting to hold random conversation with them. This I can attest to personally. Obama this, Trump that, illegals over here, the sad state of the economy over there…they were all quite predictable and wanted to know, secretly, if you:
Were angry at them because of slavery
Were a “safe” black person to be around
Were “conscious” ( meaning intelligent) of what was going on around you
Were “into” them sexually and maybe wouldn’t mind dating them
“It’s your energy they’re after”, my one friend told me. “Blacks absorb energy, they repel it. They need whatever energy you’re giving off. They can feel it coming outta you. Don’t bother trying to run from them. You’ll just attract them even further. What you need to do is to extract information from them and use it to help us get outta this mess.”
“But they drain me. I’m sick afterwards.”
“Then get help from hardened light ( crystals).”
I allowed the Divine Spirit to speak to me and listened intently to whatever messages I was receiving. Something about this man wasn’t right. I felt it before when I used to work for corporate America. That uneasiness. That weird, tickling sensation of hairs crawling up your neck and arms.
Someone walked behind us and interrupted his train of thought. He turned his head slowly and I caught a glimpse of him from another angle. His face and neck seemed to “shift” right before me. It just shifted. Like it morphed. For a split second, I wondered if I imagined it.
But I knew better.
I was stricken with a mad desire to run from this man and scream. I wanted to give in and lose it right there in the middle of the farmer’s market. But I held fast and composed myself. This should be no shock. I’ve spoken to a few people who’ve confided in me the same thing to varying degrees. But seeing it up close was very different.
He turned and looked back at me and smiled. I forced myself to act normal…whatever that means.
“Well, I gotta go now. Good luck with Nestle”, and I hurried off.
I went into my car and foolishly locked the door as if that meant something. Compose yourself! I said to myself. Get it together!
I sped home feeling anxious, fearful, jittery, tired and wondered if, finally, I had lost it.
Why didn’t I just stay home?
I dialed a familiar number after I got hold of my breath and explained what happened. She was silent. Then…
“They’ve always been here. For ages. We mate with them, y’know. Not realizing it. We have kids with these things.”
I suddenly had a million questions to which I already knew the answer.
There are real non-hueman entities living amongst us. Those of us that are intuned with Nature can pick up on their vibes and sense that something isn’t quite right about them. Perhaps it’s a lack of real emotion like compassion and the ability to express love. Perhaps it’s that empty, blank stare they give you when you’re looking into their eyes. That “nothing is ‘behind the eyes’ look.”
You’ve seen it, I’m sure.
Talking to them. Realizing that nothing’s there.
Your next door neighbour. Your babysitter. Your doctor…
What I would like to know is:
Have you ever experienced it?