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seek to examine you internally, Paula?" Asked Cindy, on my behalf. Her pencil held above her open pad, in the same patient way as my breath. Paula said they examine her with needles: "Through the cranial. I can feel a sharp pain in my mind," she reveals tearfully. Her hand instantly reached for the cap of her head, and fell back just as quickly as she added in sobs: "They pierce my eye as well."
I swallowed hard at that point, and wondered what had I put this poor, poor woman through? It seemed outrageously unfair; but I had no other solution. There was no tangible evidence to my inquiry, no downed craft, no alien corpse, no solid pictures, not that anyone believes them when they are presented anyway, regardless of quality. I was working purely on a hypothesis determined by the validity of each individual, and the power of my own mind to deduce a set of physics, and reshape their laws.
I wondered just what kind of man I was becoming, as this investigation began to border the very realms of obsession. It would be later that night when I viewed myself in the mirror, and posed a question silently in my own mind, that I'd find out: Was I becoming a monster?, so racked in my own interest I had abandoned the very fundamentals of decency? I managed to convince myself what I did was as much for Paula's benefit as it was for mine.
But that small flicker of honesty, evaporated almost as instantly as it arrived. I wasn't doing this for Paula, David, John, Doris or anyone else, I did it for me and my own sanity. Perhaps I was prepared to barter my peace of mind, for their's.
And although I couldn't fully convince myself that I pursued these complex analogies for anyone else's temperance, I did finally agree there was some recourse in it for them. Paula continued on Cindy's couch to describe what some might call a nefarious nature purveyed by alien entities on non-voluntary patients.
She was now in tears, her mouth distorted and her broken words telling a harrowing tale. Paula said: "They put a sharp needle deep in my eye, and the pain won't stop. I keep asking them to stop, but they won't."
Cindy once again turned on me. She, by this time was looking for an indication from me to call this whole process to a dramatic and finite end. Unselfishly I ceded the point with a simple, yet conclusive head movement. Cindy took her methodical step by step approach, to first relax Paula, then carefully bring her back to her normal state; and although tears still stained her cheeks, she woke on Cindy's psychiatrist's couch full of smiles.
I felt a sense of relief, having not known what the end conclusion might have been. I had visions of a woman waking, then running round Cindy's office screaming, until she eventually found an open window to hurl herself from. Fortunately for me, Paula looked and acted no differently from when this intrusive process began.
She was also eager to find out the consequences of her subconscious experience, and became insistent. Cindy excused herself, leaving me alone with Paula to up-date her on the results. There wasn't really that much I could relinquish at that point, except recount for her, her experience in her childhood home.
I explained to her comprehensively what she told me under her hypnotic state. I told her as delicately as possible, and watched somewhat apprehensive as Paula tilled my words lucidly in her mind. I had hope the laconic definition might produce a more conscious revelation and was not disappointed, because as Paula stood, moved over and looked from Cindy's large office widow, out on to the busy London street below, she became more determined to understand her own trauma.
Paula told me how her parents would always blame her as a child for sleep walking: "I even used to get a smack!" She recalled, as she briefly turned to glimpse me. She looked back out the window, so she stood with her back to me; her gaze fixed. Paula asked me honestly what I thought they wanted?
I had to confess, I had no deeper insight into them than she did. In fact I probably had less insight. I told her my job was not to decipher the intentions of extraterrestrial species or determine their ambition, my job was purely to make the event possible and give it some semblance of credence.
I explained that to her softly. I told Paula I had no power to predict their aspiration or desire; but just maybe I could eventually takeaway some of the stigma and ridicule others project towards
Below is a list of chapters for the Metaphysics Anthology. The book itself is designed as abit of fun! One man thinking out loud. You should not see it as science, merely enjoy the imagination of the human mind in full swing.
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