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Stalking Vol 2: The Bridge of Reason


"That would be the public’s right to know, as a belief entrenched during their formal
training and evolved into a conviction by way of being shot at, both of which they use to define
themselves. They have also learned how to function publicly," I carried on, "but I saw them leak
fear in intellectual rants, or in a bottle, when the truth stood too close."
"Or in painting by numbers—there is always something to hang onto when the floor
disappears from beneath your reason, but it might take a while to find a hand-hold."
"The floor disappearing is from having witnessed the insanity?"
"You would know; you walked away from massacres." She cleared her throat. "It’s possible
that the brighter one’s realized they were contributing to the carnage by sanitizing heinous acts,
be that a secret they are keeping from themselves or an issue they cannot resolve and remain
employed. Moving on; we’re going to look at conditioning from an energetic perspective," she
said, becoming the academician.
"Let’s do that at Bridges. Can I ask you a stupid question?" I said.
"Why not take a moment and ask me an intelligent one?" Bonnie said, looking up to search
for the broad yellow building that was Bridges Restaurant, bar, grill, meeting place, and general
single’s hangout on the weekends. Spotting a corner of the building, she led us in that direction.
"The question is this," I said, having dismissed two inappropriate remarks, "you seem to
define true courage as doing the right thing; this includes knowing what it is, either by facing
yourself or already having done this, so that you have no secrets to blur the underlying nature of
an act. Is this accurate?"
"It is accurate as far as it goes, but you might recall an early K ha- lib channel: he said
everyone on a physical cycle of development is courageous. This is not only because of the
intensity and the hazards involved in this means of exploration, but because every incarnation is
an investment in a blind trust." She looked my way. "You’re not seeing the big deal, are you?"
"Not really."
"Meaning that you are seeing it through an alternate reality?"
"Sorry—no I can’t see the big deal."
"In that case, I’ve got another zipper-like story."
"Ready when you are."
She spoke efficiently, as if presenting symptoms for a medical review while we walked
around, between, and through gaggles of tourists.
"An entity returning near the end of her physical cycle is displeased with her last
performance, and she decides to design an irrefutable lesson. It was supposed to go like this: the
first third of his journey—she had chosen the male perspective—included a persona, friends, and
cultural influences that would focus him on manipulating the way things are to his advantage.
The second third was to be formally educated in these ways, and to become wealthy as a master
marketer. The third phase was to lose it all, because the fog of self-deception would cause him to
believe he deserved his advantages—the phenomenon of focusing tightly on self that he had
wanted to correct. However, he became so caught up in the modality of his exploration of
mankind’s weaknesses that he failed to see the awakening omens he had designed into this
phase. So far?" she said, seeing a question in my eyes.
"Fog of self-deception?"
Holding up a finger, she said, "Even from his narrowing perspective, he intellectually knew
better than to judge others for any reason, let alone for small things like appearances, physical
circumstances, and social skills. However, his quick wit, comfortable lifestyle, and easy
adaptation to a wide range of mostly affluent circumstances had slowly changed him."
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