Purposeful Illusion

Not much has changed. I haven't been thinking much. Thoughts seem to take one out of the experience of the moment. I've been reading about shamanism lately. It's very much about thoughts creating one's experience, which seems to be the theme I'm exploring as of late.

Interesting synchronicities, by the way: I reread the Woman of Wyrrd by Lynn Andrews. In it, she relieves parts of a past life where she is a girl who ends up meeting and being trained by a wise woman in England. Then I saw Hank Wesselman's books, not knowing what they were about, just seeing they had to do with Hawaiian mysticism. So I checked out the three books of his trilogy. In them, Hank slips into an ecstatic state in which he "prelives"? a future life or the life of his descendant many thousands of years in the future. In the middle of reading these, I happened upon the Secret, which I figured I might as well watch, since so many people were going on about it. Fred Alan Wolf is in it. While looking for Hank Wesselman's other books, I came across a book on shamanic experiences Fred Alan Wolf wrote, which is what I'm currently reading (The Eagle's Quest). In it, Fred Alan Wolf recalls his experiences with South American shamans (much ayahuasca involved) as well as his time with a pair of English shamans who speak about the web of Wyrd.

There are so many things in these books related to many elements in my stories that it's a little ridiculous. The Seer in my stories can thought travel by navigating a crystalline web underlying the normally experienced physical reality. He can sense people though it and connect with their minds as well. He can also look to the future or the past through it. In the Hawaiian practice, there is what is referred to as the aka web, which is basically identical. It's the informational matrix Ingo Swann described to teach people remote viewing.

It's all the same thing. I've experienced this all before. And I'm still not caught up to where I've been before. I found a CD at Goodwill about a week ago that I still haven't bothered to listen to. It's by Brian Weiss, who I've heard of but know nothing about. Of course as soon as I got it his name kept popping up in various books. Spiritual progression through regression. I'll give it a try tonight, probably, if I can keep awake enough to do so.

On a potentially unrelated note: the other day I began in a unreasonably foul mood. It persisted at work, and I really felt like kicking things or screaming although I was unaware of the instigator. I was also extremely tired. The ninja and I have been considering the possibility of entities who might be less than beneficent playing with us, so I, for some reason, remembered Algiz, a protective rune, and Dagez, a rune used for invisibility, and used them in a design I wrote on my arm in the restroom at work. Perhaps it was the placebo effect, but who cares, really, because as soon as it was on my arm the room visibly brightened around me and my body felt immediately brighter. I definitely wasn't expecting that outcome. I think I'm much more of a skeptic than I think I am. I felt much better either way, and reminded myself to keep focused on the inner reality, the light of which we all are.

After the ninja and I were up for awhile, I decided I was going to lucid dream. Since I’ve been reading about Hawaiian beliefs concerning the structure of humans, I decided to ask my ku or body mind/subconscious mind to open the doorway to other realms. Within a few minutes, my body was heavy and paralyzed. The ninja re-entered the room, talking about something, and I slurred my response. It was difficult to get my mouth to work. He told me not to roll on my side, as usually happens to me when I get to that state, and jars me out of the paralysis. He began to play a video game, and I was surprised that it did not disturb me. I concentrated instead on the vibrations that were beginning as a low throb in my body.  Unfortunately, I lost consciousness. When I woke, I knew I had dreams but had to fish to find them. Happily, I remembered that I had indeed had become lucid in the dream.

I was with my mom, aunt and cousins in my aunt’s old living room. I was wearing a pair of giant blue sweatpants over my jeans and I pulled them up to beneath my armpits, slouching to do so, and moved around like that to make my cousins laugh. The next time I looked down, the sweatpants were gone. I was really surprised. “How can they be gone all of a sudden?” I demanded, and realized with a huge grin that I was dreaming. “Mom!” I stood before her, studying her. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” I asked her.

She began to talk about something else, denying that I was dreaming, and I made her younger and younger as she talked, until she was dark haired, face unlined, her body considerably less sore. Pleased, I changed locales instantaneously. I was suddenly on a cliff by the sea side, a grassy area with mosses and stones. I decided I was going to go meet “God,” and thought I could launch myself up from a flat stone area exposed nearby. I lost lucidity or memory, not sure which.

Non lucidly, but in observer mode, I saw a photograph of a woman who had become a man. I noted with interest that she had a pronounced double chin with a cleft in it. I then had a feeling/farther away vision of gleeful children dropping their adult suits and chasing each other around in the sky with abandon.

I was playing Shadow of the Colossus last night, and only realized I was pretty tired after hearing a man (I saw him in my head) tell me “I have a wonderful LiveJournal group called ‘Field of Memories.’ Come visit sometime.” I played a little longer before registering what was going on, and then sat up like “WTF?!” and decided it was time to try to sleep, as I could maybe tap into that in-between state. I went easily into sleep.
I woke up when the ninja came home and knew I had dreams, but had to really concentrate to pull them up into waking consciousness.

I was being shown things rather than experiencing them directly. It was like being absorbed into a giant computer screen, the program altering with my intent.

“Little is it known that Naubinway was a center for spiritual advancement,” the narrator said, the image becoming a curved road that went to the left on a downward spiral. The houses looked as though they were from the Shakespearean era to me, white with dark brown timbers. There were red and blue pennants flying above the city street with gold designs.

Wait a second, I thought. I know where Naubinway is.  I pass through it every time I go to or from home.  It's along US 2 on the northern shore of Lake Michigan.

The scene altered to what I presumed was a motel in Naubinway called “The Groves.” Striated brown cliffs (unlike what we’re used to seeing in the U.P.) circled the back of the little building. I understood that people had come for visioning. When I looked up Naubinway on Google, I found that the word means “Places of Echoes.” Haven’t found a connection between Naubinway and Groves yet though. In the dream, I thought the ninja would be pleased that such a place was nearby.

Next there was a crop formation paid out like a ribbon through many fields. It was so large it could only be photographed all at once at an extreme angle, so it was photographed many times and stitched together. I wasn’t looking at photographs of it, however, as I saw it 3D. The designs were attached but unique. One part had two sheep facing each other, a heart between them. I heard “white sheep, black sheep,” and could see the differences in color in the crop, probably by how the material was laid to reflect the light. I also remember a sort of squarish Celtic knot formation.

Then I thought “dinosaurs!” and saw a flat expanse of grey stone. I understood what I’d be looking at before I saw it, and heard “live sheep, dead sheep.” I understood that a fossilized sheep had been excavated, discovered because a live sheep had been standing near it and wouldn’t leave until its herder came to fetch it. I recognized that this was the same contrast I’d seen in the crop formation earlier.

I didn’t put this together until after I wrote everything down (mostly in dim light) and then looked at the top of my notebook page and saw “Field of Memories.” Suddenly the downward spiral became a regression in time and the crop formation was a representation of linear time. I wondered if the Field of Memories was a metaphorical description of the information field remote viewers are trained to access.

I can either allow myself to descend into a bout of unhappy self-pity, or I can really work on figuring out what I am projecting, how I really feel, what I really think and what I am egoically identifying with so that I can peel away the illusory cloak I deep down think is protecting me when it’s actually like a wall of clay that holds many of the things that are thrown into it.

( fill me, o sacred fountain )
Maybe I should remember that I know nothing and let that nothing empty me out to the skies and the deliberate spin of the great galaxy above.  All I want is to merge and dissolve into You... is that too much to ask, my Beloved?

David Wilcock + Nassim Haramein = potential overload of pure awesome.

They better hurry up with releasing videos of their conversation(s).  I wants! *makes gimme gimme motions*

I was at work and in the back room. It was expansive; I couldn’t see the other walls or ceiling. Standing in front of me was B from work, who had a sort of grin on his face, and I didn’t really know why. As usual, it seemed as though he was enjoying his thoughts without letting on what he was thinking (do we think or are we thought?) I was standing somewhat near a wall and heard a cart rolling toward me, very fast. I was just fast enough to put my foot up and catch the edge of the cart with it. Immediately, I became irate with B for not warning me and sitting there grinning like he was going to enjoy watching it hit me in the ankle. I had a sign post in my hand and I swung it at him repeatedly. I think he was also holding a sign post, and my pole hit his while I shouted at him. It got close to his hands, but I didn’t seem to make contact.

B’s expression became quite hurt, and we parted ways. B went to another big open room and faced the wall (it might have been lined with bins—big shelves where we store overstock). It seemed white, however. There was a girl (I think K) in the room as well. He began play boxing toward the wall, psyching himself up. He began to talk to himself about destroying his opposition, “she is strong but we are…” something, maybe determined. I walked by and made myself laugh to myself, but I knew he was psychically/magickally attacking me. I felt certain that he wouldn’t be able to make it through my shields to affect me.

Interpretation: At work today, B asked what I was doing for Halloween, and I said nothing, considering that I have to work at 8 in the morning. He said I should at least watch a horror movie, and I said maybe I’ll have a nightmare. As usual, the only dreams that unsettle me are the ones in which I act horribly towards others—this being one of them. I woke up feeling rather bad about my violence.

As I was typing this, the meanings seemed reasonably clear. I was entirely responsible for what happened to me. I heard the cart coming; just because I didn’t see it didn’t mean I was unable to prevent injury to myself. I was frustrated at B for not looking out for me even though I was capable of looking out for myself—reflecting my earlier self-pitying because I didn’t feel loved or cared for, having an expectation for someone else to do so for me. I’m not expressing it well, but I think that’s what it was about. I was aware of making my feelings up—it was a decision to feel angry, a decision to shrug off B’s wounded retaliation.

The sign posts seemed to be ego selves—I didn’t actually strike B, and the cart didn’t actually strike me, but they were representations and extensions of ourselves. My ego was hurt that he wasn’t protecting me and would actually enjoy seeing me get injured, and his ego self was hurt that I directed anger and hurt toward him.

The openness of the area we were in reminded me of an arena in a video game, but also represented that what is experienced within this play area is up to us. The wall that appeared between us was a self-created boundary intended to isolate us or reject the other as a part of our game. The room itself had a feeling of being a recreational room.

Seriousness is the leading cause of everything from cancer to reincarnation.

Excerpt from the book "Zero Limits" by Joe Vitale and Dr. Hew Len. yourawakenedlife.com/joevitale.html

Two years ago, I heard about a therapist in Hawaii who cured a complete ward of criminally insane patients--without ever seeing any of them. The psychologist would study an inmate's chart and then look within himself to see how he created that person's illness. As he improved himself, the patient improved.

When I first heard this story, I thought it was an urban legend. How could anyone heal anyone else by healing himself?

How could even the best self-improvement master cure the criminally insane?

It didn't make any sense. It wasn't logical, so I dismissed the story.

However, I heard it again a year later. I heard that the therapist had used a Hawaiian healing process called
ho'oponopono. I had never heard of it, yet I couldn't let it leave my mind. If the story was at all true, I had to know more.

I had always understood "total responsibility" to mean that I am responsible for what I think and do. Beyond that, it's out of my hands. I think that most people think of total responsibility that way. We're responsible for what we do, not what anyone else does. The Hawaiian therapist who healed those mentally ill people would teach me an advanced new perspective about total responsibility.

His name is Dr. Ihaleakala Hew Len. We probably spent an hour talking on our first phone call. I asked him to tell me the complete story of his work as a therapist. He explained that he worked at Hawaii State Hospital for four years.

That ward where they kept the criminally insane was dangerous. Psychologists quit on a monthly basis. The staff called in sick a lot or simply quit. People would walk through that ward with their backs against the wall, afraid of being attacked by patients. It was not a pleasant place to live, work, or visit.

Dr. Len told me that he never saw patients. He agreed to have an office and to review their files. While he looked at those files, he would work on himself. As he worked on himself, patients began to heal.

"After a few months, patients that had to be shackled were being allowed to walk freely," he told me. "Others who had to be heavily medicated were getting off their medications. And those who had no chance of ever being released were being freed."

I was in awe.

"Not only that," he went on, "but the staff began to enjoy coming to work. Absenteeism and turnover disappeared.

We ended up with more staff than we needed because patients were being released, and all the staff was showing up to work. Today, that ward is closed."

This is where I had to ask the million dollar question: "What were you doing within yourself that caused those people to change?"

"I was simply healing the part of me that created them," he said.

I didn't understand.

Dr. Len explained that total responsibility for your life means that everything in your life - simply because it is in your life--is your responsibility. In a literal sense the entire world is your creation.

Whew. This is tough to swallow. Being responsible for what I say or do is one thing. Being responsible for what everyone in my life says or does is quite another. Yet, the truth is this: if you take complete responsibility for your life, then everything you see, hear, taste, touch, or in any way experience is your responsibility because it is in your life.

This means that terrorist activity, the president, the economy--anything you experience and don't like--is up for you to heal. They don't exist, in a manner of speaking, except as projections from inside you. The problem isn't with them, it's with you, and to change them, you have to change you.

I know this is tough to grasp, let alone accept or actually live. Blame is far easier than total responsibility, but as I spoke with Dr. Len, I began to realize that healing for him and in ho 'oponopono means loving yourself. If you want to improve your life, you have to heal your life. If you want to cure anyone--even a mentally ill criminal--you do it by healing you.

I asked Dr. Len how he went about healing himself. What was he doing, exactly, when he looked at those patients' files?

"I just kept saying, 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' over and over again," he explained.

That's it?

That's it.

Turns out that loving yourself is the greatest way to improve yourself, and as you improve yourself, your improve your world. Let me give you a quick example of how this works: one day, someone sent me an email that upset me. In the past I would have handled it by working on my emotional hot buttons or by trying to reason with the person who sent the nasty message. This time, I decided to try Dr. Len's method. I kept silently saying, "I'm sorry" and "I love you," I didn't say it to anyone in particular. I was simply evoking the spirit of love to heal within me what was creating the outer circumstance.

Within an hour I got an e-mail from the same person. He apologized for his previous message. Keep in mind that I didn't take any outward action to get that apology. I didn't even write him back. Yet, by saying "I love you," I somehow healed within me what was creating him.

I later attended a ho 'oponopono workshop run by Dr. Len. He's now 70 years old, considered a grandfatherly shaman, and is somewhat reclusive. He praised my book, The Attractor Factor. He told me that as I improve myself, my book's vibration will raise, and everyone will feel it when they read it. In short, as I improve, my readers will improve.

"What about the books that are already sold and out there?" I asked.

"They aren't out there," he explained, once again blowing my mind with his mystic wisdom. "They are still in you."

In short, there is no out there.

It would take a whole book to explain this advanced technique with the depth it deserves. Suffice it to say that whenever you want to improve anything in your life, there's only one place to look: inside you.

"When you look, do it with love."

I wrote this as part of a comment to an earlier entry, but it was way too long for even two comments, so I'll just post it here.

The Law of One is a series of channelings done from 1980-1983, between an entity calling itself Ra and Carla Rueckert (the channel), Dr. Don Elkins (the questioner) and Jim McCarty. In a deep trance state, Carla would leave her body and Ra would speak instead. She was not conscious of what was being said in this time, so the distortions from the channeler's ego-mind were not present (or if they were, they were minimal). As Don Elkins was very well educated and interested in the workings of the universe, he would most often put forth a description of how things work and ask Ra to affirm, correct or clarify. Ra described an octave density structure to the Creation, corresponding with the visible spectrum or musical scale, of which there are infinite gradations within a single color. There are, however, definite boundaries between the densities, though a third density entity could take on a second density body complex, or a sixth density entity could take on a third density body form.

For me, this structure is the most detailed working model I know of to work with.  When I come across other models, they seem to fit and relate well enough that I just keep using this one.  The definitions between densities don't seem that important to me since I feel more oriented towards becoming aware of the Creator than I do of the intermediate densities.

I tried to make a summary, but it went on a bit longer than I intended, as I didn't do much to describe what Ra described. Instead, I quoted those of Ra directly. :)

( The Octave of Consciousness )

Pretty sweet :) Enjoy!

I forgot the a basic rule of this reality--the microcosm mirrors the macro.  If the spin of the music box mimics the motion of the galaxy, then it also mimics the motion of particles of matter and the harmonics inherent within.  This takes me directly to Nassim Haramein's torque or spin based physics, which is dependent on a toroidal geometry.  Looking up Nassim Haramein crossed over into Marko Rodin's torus based mathematics, which was discovered from playing with the number 9 (which is, by virtue of the number nine's strange relationships, a perfectly contained system).  On Marko Rodin's website I came across a graphic that was precisely that of the music box.  If we made the music box 3D, it would take a toroidal shape.

The toroidal geometry is the answer, as Haramein and Rodin both agree, to the non-decaying spins of particles.  Personally, this theory jives with much of my own thinking.  Haramein thinks that black holes are the source of matter.  I was in astronomy class a few years ago, and the professor was explaining black holes when I suddenly realized they were "mouths of God."  A black hole has infinite mass, which to me suggests that it opens into the Source itself, that from which we come and that to which we return.

Haramein uses a double torus as the basis of his model, but I've been thinking perhaps half of that torus is located in time-space (where time itself is 3D--which I've experienced) and half is located within our usually inhabited space-time.  If, according to Dewey Larson's physics we oscillate between space-time and time-space, Haramein's geometry might be the means by which this is done.

P.S. It's really nice to be able to put things together in ma brainz today.

I was following floating orange-gold gridlike star tetrahedrons. I believe there were three I had to locate and activate by coinciding them willfully. There might have been some at work, but I had to undergo long paths and hiking in a big indoor environment to reach them.

Part of this is most likely the Mer-Ka-Ba, as there are three overlapping star tetrahedrons to imagine in the meditation; one stationary, one rotating left, one rotating right.  Part of it was probably watching Tron yesterday—which I found to be pretty freaking sweet.

I woke up well rested this morning, but then I was reading Tolle’s the Power of Now, and in it he suggests becoming aware of the inner body. If I had been watching my inner body as a part of meditation, I would have been meditating mindlessly years ago. Well, maybe not—who knows how I would have reacted to this years ago. Probably positively, actually. Anyhow, watching the inner body is ridiculously relaxing and I kept falling asleep because I let go of being conscious. If I held on all the time, I could probably... well, just be.  The difficult thing is to just be in the moment instead of wanting to go back to the state of fearless bliss again... expectation, remembering--all of it moves us out of the moment, projecting ourselves elsewhere instead of being here now.

:)

So I think I can forgive myself for working at this job for the last year.  I reasoned this out:

Pro: I can transfer just about anywhere I care to.
Pro: With the tax return I'll be getting at the beginning of the year, I'll have enough money to move just about anywhere I care to.

Con:  putting up with the feeling of "should" be doing something better, something more useful, something else.

I can live with that for awhile. :)

A convergence of sound and sight:  http://wheelof.com/whitney/index.php?var=v6

Really cool.  I was watching it and playing around with the different varieties, watching as the wheel came back to its starting point, only to wonder if I was looking at a metaphor for the galaxy's rotation.  You'll notice every so often, the points of sound will align into spokes.  The number of spokes depends on how far the furthest out point has travelled around the circle.  If it's a sixth of the way around, there will be six spokes; a fifth of the way, five. 

So I wonder about this density shift thing.  Let's say we have 49 notes, all of which are, at this point in time, aligned into 7 spokes of 7 tones apiece.  You could travel along one spoke inward, going up the scale, but each spoke will have its own notes.  Each note in one spoke will be a step higher than the notes of the spoke below it.  We might see this as an octave of octaves.   There are spaces between the spokes, spaces that would still contain the energy of the notes that have played in those spaces before.  The more that has passed through, the higher the density of the potential energy within that space.  Maybe we're going to be coming up on a spoke of the galactic wheel, into the next step of energy. 

Otherwise, it hasn't made sense to me why there would be a definite wall we pass through.  If this spoke aligns us directly to the center of the galaxy, bam, no wonder people passing through it would get a jolt of cosmic consciousness (what happened to people in the Montauk experiment when their consciousness would travel past 12.21.12).  I've heard before that we'll be aligned with the galactic center that day.

Another thing... there's a moment of silence in the music box before the spokes align.  Drunvalo Melchizedek speaks of three days of darkness as a part of the transition into the next dimension.  If this happens, dude.  Rejoice and be glad.  Know that something akin to heaven on Earth is about to transform your experience completely.  And again, I am excited for our next step.

I have been bringing A Course in Miracles with me to work, reading it on lunches and breaks. I wish I stayed in the place that book takes me into. Work is the hardest place to stay focused because of how I interact with my co-workers. The job itself is easy to stay in “all is one/divine/light/love” mode, and interactions with customers are the same. With my co-workers, however, I seem to be more personality oriented rather than spirit oriented. With some co-workers, it’s easy to remain in that place, but with others, I find myself caught up in the dream of our individuality, though not of our separateness, because I can still see them as Divine if I remember to look.

I usually see them as playmates in the sandbox, though, and together we create many castles of hilarity. You know, most of my difficulty with work is simply that I believe I should be doing something else, something worthwhile. Something that’s going somewhere. Once I actually get to work, I tend not to mind it much at all. It feels like I’m helping someone, be it my manager or customers. Helping customers is what I enjoy most about my job, even though I’m usually helping them find food that’s slowly killing them. I’m also giving them a smile and for many of the older customers, anyway, a chance for a little bit of conversation many of them seem not to get the chance for all that often. It’s a chance to find new ways to love, I guess you could say.

I think our customers are a pretty good cross section of the local population. It turns out the vast majority of people are pretty nice, patient and appreciative. I can feel it when they appreciate my assistance, and it always seems like a pleasant affirmation that I’m not really much different from most of them. I get stories from regular customers here and there, like the man with the dolphin earring who was on a submarine in the Navy, or the sisters with the diabetic brother who has to have natural applesauce and unsalted canned vegetables. There’s the man who buys 2-3 cases of tonic water for “her,” whoever she is, and another who recently discovered he was lactose intolerant and wanted to know which salad dressings were milk-free. Little things, stitches in the grand tapestry of life itself, whether it’s invented by mankind or straight from the Earth itself.

I stay in this job, wondering what lesson I’m there to learn from it. I think what I’m there to do is recognize it all as Divine, for as long as I wish to do so. Maybe there are guides watching me, working out the details of what to next present me with, and maybe for the last year they’ve thought it would be beneficial to stay in this place. Or maybe I am deaf to them. I’m not sure it matters. It’s me that’s changing, regardless of my surroundings.

It’s easy to love the world sometimes, and easier yet to love the Universe/multiverse/All-that-is.

In Drunvalo Melchizedek's Serpent of Light, he wrote that good ol' Alice Bailey recorded the meanings of triple digit synchronicities. Whether these are true or not, who knows, but it's a bit interesting.

000: No value. (Hard to believe.)
111: Energy flow (electricity, water, money, spiritual energy, etc.)
222: New Cycle, the nature of which depends on the next triple you see.
333: Decision, leading either to 666 (repeat in some other way) or 999 (completion)
444: Learning, but not actually doing
555: Unity consciousness
666: Earth Consciousness, dealing with the physical.
777: Learning and practicing.
888: Completion of a particular lesson
999: Completion of a particular cycle of events.

Personal relevance:

Instance 1: About a month ago, I had just finished my shower. I had forgotten to relocate my towel to a reachable position, so I leaned. I slipped a little and my shoulder took out the pipe leading from the faucet to the shower head. I reassembled it but it leaks and comes apart really easily.

Instance 2: Last month, my computer cord broke between the adapter and the wall. I ordered a replacement, but it’s very touchy. The slightest bump causes the power connection to be severed.

Instance 3: The day before a bus trip downstate, the battery to my laptop suffered “irreparable damage” and needs to be replaced.

Instance 4: My caseworker for the Bridge card would not return my calls to have a meeting with her to renew my benefits, so I no longer have them. Awesome. This is partially because of my lack of persistence, however, but seriously, me calling every day netted me a single phone call that I missed while showering. When I called back about an hour later, there was no answer and she didn’t return that call either.

Instance 5: I was short to pay my credit card bill on time, so I advanced 200 dollars from my next paycheck. The fee was 20 dollars. It seems as though my payment was not scheduled as I thought it was, so I ended up paying the bill 2 days late.

Instance 6: I have also been charged some yearly fee on the credit card. The fee was 111 dollars and some cents.

Instance 7: When I looked at the yearly fee, I happened to check the clock. It was 1:11 P.M.

Money, water, electricity. All forms of energy, the flow of all of which has been interrupted for me quite often, indisputably. I have plenty of creative energy, plenty of ideas, especially for this story I've been kicking around for awhile, but I haven't been doing much with them at all.

To be honest about one of my fallings down, earlier this year, I bought a domain name, hosting services, and whatever else I thought I'd need to get started in putting this website online. A hundred and some odd dollars for the whole year. Already spent and entirely wasted thus far. Seriously, is that not ridiculous? Since when did I get into the practice of such profound self-doubt and unwillingness to work on something I felt strongly enough to invest even a little bit of time and effort into?

Self, I love you, but you're making me crazy. Let it all flow and stop getting in your own way, please. Thank you.

I am "superstitious" about triple digit numbers, and that's pretty funny to me.

Please sirs and madams, explain to me how Bank of America finds it justifiable to raise the interest rate on my credit card account by a full seven percent because I was two days late on a payment.  A year or two ago, I was a few hours late and they charged me 40 dollars straight away.  I would prefer that.  Those are the only times in the last five years I have ever been late.  If I wish to reject the rate hike, they shut the account, which I can't really afford to do but probably should.  Extortionists -_- 

Then again, I haven't used it at all since I started working, at least, not until last month when I used it for my bus ticket, then again this month when I used it for all sorts of things relating to going downstate and filling up my mom's gas tank.  It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to just close it.  Then it's just what I have, I have, not "what can I make up for in two weeks?"

The part that grinds me the most is that I took a direct deposit advance out of my next check to pay that bill and somehow the payment either didn't go through or it slipped my silky mind to make the payment.  I am pretty confused on that part.  I was certain I made the payment, but of course I didn't keep the confirmation number.  Besides, it cost me twenty bucks to advance two hundred, and I could have used that money.  Nearly three hours' work, poof.

Hmm...

P.S. My next credit card bill is seventy dollars higher than last month's.  Why is this legal?

I was investigating a case of a missing or murdered girl. The suspect they brought in was one of my old schoolmates, CR. They kept him in this room that looked mostly like my mom's room in her house, but the door was in a different place.

( ...should be an episode of some show )

Interpretation:  ...?