My Life with the Reptilians
(3-29-04)
You'll love this. I've dropped acid several hundred times, and it eventually brought on a few bouts of schizophrenia. I used to attribute every bizarre occurrence to coincidence or schizophrenia. In retrospect, something more was at work. I must confess to reading David Icke for fun.
Early on, an officer who arrested me on a nonsense charge was soon thereafter
killed by two drunk driving students from Louisiana School for the Deaf. This
was the beginning of a long, strange chain of events.
It's sort of hard to begin to explain schizophrenia. There are a number of aspects
I've experienced. For one, I actually experienced a lot of books I've read,
and movies I've seen. It's sort of a Walter Mitty on meth. Fun, actually, if
it never gets out of hand. Vonnegut, Dick, Heinlein, King. Each of these writers
describes certain aspects, or influenced my thoughts to a degree.
Some ten years later, I was arrested for sleepwalking across campus dressed
only in a pair of blue Adidas shorts. I had been tripping for a week or so,
at Mardi gras and the honors convention in New Orleans. I had my first weird "Stephen King" incident, in which I met a New Orleans professor who
looked an awful lot like a very tall King.
So I was accosted as I was walking across campus. Rightly so, I suppose. But
two campus cops were dispatched to talk to me. They say I cursed at someone
as I was walking? Quite possibly, as I was essentially unconscious.
I more or less began to wake up when confronted by these two police. But I got
a very uncool vibe from the two of them, you might say. Nothing came to mind
so much as a UFO comic I had read in the 70s as a child. It said something to
the effect that the people (a pair?) who approached Lot for his daughters were
in fact aliens. So I guess that stuck with me. I must point out that I've never
considered myself at all religious or even spiritual.
At any rate, one had glasses and one didn't, and they struck me as quite odd.
A struggle and macing ensued. I spent a few weeks in the local mental ward,
and then jail.
I made a joke about it shortly after I began to recover from a major freak-out: "They say I bit one cop and punched another one in the stomach, but I distinctly remember turning into a dinosaur-type thing and eating them."
Ha ha.
As a side-note, the university barred me from school, but persuaded a neighbor
to attest to a few laughable complaints, in order to evict us from campus. Almost
at the very time I was in the administration offices answering these false charges,
the girl's father, who happened to live a few houses down from our own residence
in that town, had his hand badly smashed, and his St. Bernard of ten years was
shot and killed.
The encounter I had upon the day of our arrival back home was an odd one indeed.
When I had left school, I had also left work. My boss was a female, and while
I don't want to say she had reptilian qualities, she certainly had unique characteristics.
At any rate, while speaking to the girl's father, and learning he was injured,
etc., I "saw" my boss's persona in another person, a female, who was
accompanying him. My ex-boss, through her, essentially told me to take care
of myself. It was odd, seeing one person's essence inside another in that manner,
with such vivid clarity. Voice, intonation, body gestures, etc. were all that
of another person entirely. This was not the only time this sort of thing happened.
So, the very night we moved back to that house, a girl was murdered in the apartments
on campus. I, in fact, slept alone at the house that night. Again, I didn't
make much of a note of it, but I had a really vivid dream that night. It was
essentially a nightmare, involving a reptilian Stephen King the size and dimension
of a refrigerator. But I didn't pay much attention to that.
Because when I went back to campus a few days later, we were pulled over and questioned in relation to the campus murder. Thus marking the first time I was loosely associated with what was termed at the time, a "serial killing".
Here, I guess, is the kicker. At one point, for a few split-seconds, I saw in
the mirror that I no longer looked like myself, but like a reptilian version
of my ex-boss, replete with yellow saurian eyes.
Hmmm. I didn't really think it was a big deal, at the time. When we did return to campus, I remember locking eyes with a black female, out of a sizable crowd. She had cat or lizard eyes, and showed me her fangs. This sort of thing is par for the course for schizophrenia, as far as I can tell. How else can I explain it all to myself?
Acute paranoid schizophrenia, induced by LSD abuse. Either that or I am a shape-shifting
reptilian myself.
So, just as a closer, I then took a trip to Florida. After circumstances led
me to, if I recall, 33rd and Mason?, I actually obtained a bricklayer job a
few days later.
Note: Mason Avenue, but not 33rd St.
As it turns out, I had left my lights on at my first day of work. A telephone lineman walked by, and a few minutes later returned. He informed me lights were on, and when I thanked him, he said "Anything for you, buddy", in a voice that was chillingly that of Stephen King's, especially his one-liners that he gives in many cameos in his own movies.
Like I said, it's weird and hard to explain. I'm fine now, of course. No more
psychedelics for me. Strange coincidences? Not around here. No cases of ESP,
evidence of mutation. No recent contrails over the town of Ruston, Louisiana.
Just an average nuclear family, attending college. Oh me? I’m, erm, a
sci-fi writer. --Jason
