Union of geeks

Being a touch-deprived and emotion-deprived hillbilly hybrid (I strongly suspect) tortured by older sisters that could only emulate more of Mother's rape-blocked emotions turned into a heart of stone, I turned out a bit strange. 

My strange story needs an open mind.

I am a retired technologist, computer programmer, and collector of all things esoteric.  The search for Spirit nonetheless is even possible for a geek.  

This story is my experience learning about an Orb of Light.   A really big one.  This story is smuggled out of Area 51 by a remote viewer who communicated with the orbs on a project cooperative of the dark military with the Orbs, circa 1980-s.  The military had no idea what they were dealing with, and it did not go as they expected.  

I fancy that when my diaper-days of emotional deprivation and lack of touch and affection took my breath away until I passed out, and convulsions set in, turning blue, feeling only the calloused anger of a father that was triggered by my endless cries of the unnatural hell of un-nurtured infancy --I think I likely died.  This passing-out from anguish and racing to a hospital miles away without breathing occurred multiple times beginning at six months old, as my family shared.

Did I ever get a hug?  Nuh uh. The doctor said, "It's a strong boy that can hold his breath until he passes out.  Just throw cold water in his face next time."  Water torture 1954. 

I think I am a walk-in.  I've tried to realize how I turned out so strange, and that seems to make sense, but for the rest of the story... please consider me introduced.

The message to me came  by a remote viewer as a death-bed disclosure.  The Viewer was a geek too.  We got along marvelously, and we both discussed matters deep and esoteric during a ten year friendship... but on a topic I was ever most curious about he would always grow nervous and paranoid to discuss.  And we didn't.

The Viewer fell out of touch, until one day he called out of the blue, and sounded terrible.  He was recovering from a stroke, and had been in a coma for a month.  Now he was convalescing with a Sister. But!  His paranoia of my favorite topic was gone!  He shared everything, but with difficulty, with a plastic skull plate covering nearly half of his head.  He was given not long to live.  I traveled to his side and spent ten days receiving what you will learn in this story in coming installments.

I am here to pass-forward the story he shared, the entanglement with my life, and information about a device I'm now charged to build.  I may need your help.  Yet, the project is not mine to manage, more than the logistics and assembly of what I now understand.  Transistors, copper, batteries. The torus. The golden ratio.  A Fibonacci pair.  Time slows down in the center that is bigger than the outside.  Mind is a dimple in time.  We are a celestial being within, a part of star mind.  "Not all stars are alive."

Finally after seven years of chomping at the bit to understand the design principles, to reverse-engineer the description from the remote viewer, finally I understand how to service the message.  A design-closure arrived just this last September.  I've came alive!  My retirement is now in living color.  I know my soul mission.  I know my message.  I know my charge.  

The Viewer said "The orbs themselves have this last message for you. Build five and distribute them around the world.  The sooner they are built, the more people will be helped."


End: Union of geeks

Next: Two children and the orbs