Q. What’s happening now?
Q. Of what?
A. Of an event.
Q. What sort of event?
A. An event that contains too much synchronicity to be coincidental, but that at the same time has the feel of somebody messing with my head.
Q. Messing with your head? Are you sure that’s the best way to describe the experience?
A. Without using the f-word, yes.
Q. But are you sure it’s only your head that’s being messed with? What about you? All of you? Your total being?
A. What are you driving at?
Q. On the streets, what did somebody mean when they said that they f—-d with you?
A. It didn’t mean anything negative, not in street slang. It only meant that they were willing to deal with me. Others they may have ignored, but me they interacted with. They probably even transacted with me. It meant that I mattered. That I was important to them.
Q. So when you feel that somebody is messing with you, what do you really feel?
Q. Come again?
Q. Say what?
A. Important! I’m important enough for them to bother messing with me.
Q. There you go! Now — who do you think has been messing with you?
A. Good question. There’s a sense of omnipotence and omnipresence. So it could be God. But it doesn’t seem to have the love that one associates with God. Maybe it’s an Agent or Angel of some kind. There’s a bit of an evil vibe to it. I don’t want to think it’s the Devil. Maybe it’s merely a gnome, or a poltergeist.
Q. Poltergeist? What kind of event are you talking about?
A. You really wanna know?
Q. Why else would I have asked?
A. All right. As you know, I don’t have my MediCare card. I was in the position where I would be billed for a service if I could not provide my MediCare number. The potential creditor only had my MediCaid number.
So, to obtain the MediCare number, I took the little yellow slip of paper on which I had my MediCaid number written down, and I headed for the low income clinic. I figured there somebody might know me, and they might give me my MediCare number, especially if I could prove I was me, by showing them the MediCaid number.
But when I got there, I reached for my pocket, and the little slip of paper was gone! Oh well, not a big deal, as it turned out. The nice lady there got my name and birthdate, and soon handed me my MediCare number on a very similar little slip of yellow paper.
But then, when I got home, I reached for my pocket, and the little slip of paper she gave me was gone! What was there instead was the slip I’d thought I’d forgotten at home, the one containing my MediCaid number!
How could it be? It couldn’t be! It couldn’t possibly be that the slip of paper first vanished, then was replaced by a similar but not identical slip of paper, which was then mysteriously transformed into the first slip of paper. Poltergeist! Somebody was messing with me!
So I rode back on my bicycle and requested the MediCare number all over again. Then, when I returned home, I found I had both numbers on two little yellow slips of paper, which I then crammed down deep into my wallet. Moreover, I saw on the floor a third slip of yellow paper, this one containing my MediCare number! So I wrote my MediCaid number on the new slip of paper and stuck it on my refrigerator. Now I won’t lose my numbers – but I’m sure Somebody Up There was messing with me. They were just trying to let me know that They had my number (so to speak).
Q. Did you feel like you were being tested?
A. Yeah – that’s it. I was being tested. They were testing me, to see if I would blow.
Q. Did you blow?
A. No — not this time. I usually do, you know, whenever I think that they’re messing with me. But this time I kept my cool — and I kept my mouth shut.
Q. How did that make you feel?
A. At the time, pretty frustrated. I wanted to scream! But afterwards, upon reflection, it made me feel encouraged. I felt that I had passed the test.
Q. So how do you interpret the event?
A. As an honor. Just like it was an honor on the streets for someone to care about me enough to want to mess with me.
Q. But didn’t they only mess with you because you were an easy mark?
A. That’s right. And these Supernatural Guys — they think I’m an easy mark as well.
Q. Isn’t that a bad thing?
A. Not necessarily. I survived the streets, didn’t I?
Q. Why do you think you survived the streets?
A. Because there was always something they could get from me. I was useful.
Q. What about to the Supernatural Guys? What about to God?
A. To God, you ask? It just might be — just maybe — that to God, I am useful too.
The Questioner is silent.
Please donate to Eden in Babylon.