A Parallel between the two hardest parts to read.

In the email I received, I was able to easily flow through the reading of the first part of the letter, the storytelling part. I was also 'hearing voices' while I was reading it, and they suggested that I should pay attention to which parts of the letter were *DIFFICULT TO READ*.

The hardest part to read was the part that started with 'trying to find a current or future expat can be a difficult task.' (As I reread this line of my own blog again, I got goosebumps, and felt a feeling of wonder, thinking of expats as something nonhuman. But, always being down to earth, I must insist that whatever stories I hear about aliens, I assume that they are something earthly and mundane and non-frightening. But you haven't even gotten to the part where I write about the aliens yet. That's a few paragraphs down.) Anyway, 'finding a current or future expat...' This started triggering something in my mind and I don't know what it was, but reading the paragraph became slow and a struggle. I had to read over it again and again and again just to understand the literal meaning of the sentences.

I wanted to emphasize again that I choose life. This is a sworn commitment that I have made many years ago. I have sworn that I will not commit suicide no matter what, although technically, I could change my mind about that if something totally horrible and unthinkable happened like if I were in unbearable, horrible pain from something physical, and I mean something extreme, but it would not be something I would do lightly or quickly.

In fact, in a very dark and strange way, I like, or approve of, something that was written by another targeted individual on the net. This person had written about something controversial to me, and please take this with a grain of salt, because I myself assume that particular things that I read are not necessarily true... but this guy was writing about deep underground military bases, and talking about how, one time, his military unit had gotten into a battle with a bunch of... aliens... underground. They were 'large grays,' if I recall. I wouldn't assume they were aliens - they might be some genetic relative of the human who has developed more than we have or differently than we have. Anything could be going on underground that we wouldn't know about, so techically, I can't prove or disprove whether that was true. If it were true, I'm not going to freak out about it. There's a lot of stuff that we just don't know about in the world. When I hear voices, I often hear them talking as though they are trapped someplace. This is sad and scary, so I don't write about it much. But they sometimes tell me they're trapped underground, literally under the earth somewhere. Not dead, but alive, and unable to get out. It's too scary to think about, and yes, I can't rule out the possibility that such a thing might happen, since, as I said before, the ground is a very deep place, and anything could be going on down there, and I haven't visited every square inch of the surface of the earth and the floor of the ocean, so I really don't know whether maybe there would be an entrance somewhere. But this is all speculative, and again, if it were true, I wouldn't be freaking out over it.

So this guy told everyone he knew that if he ever 'committed suicide,' quote unquote, it would actually be a murder. I could really relate to that. I've sworn never to commit suicide. It is my personal oath.

I am keenly attentive to the presence of tiny quantities of drugs in my body. I'm tempted to brag about how this is one of those advantages of being an SLI. But really, I won't brag about that. I am able to tell when tiny quantities of drugs are on my skin. I am able to tell when drugs are in my body from any source at all. I also recognize how my moods are affected by drugs, and I am *VERY WELL AWARE* of how drugs are the cause of suicide. If I ever feel a strange sensation or desire to commit suicide, I troubleshoot any possible drug exposures.

I'm lucky: I haven't experienced attacks too badly, not like other targeted individuals. I haven't experienced a lot of the things that CAN happen to them, and I'm just trying to say that I don't think someone else is drugging me. I used to believe that someone was, but after learning about drug residues, after years of observations, I've decided that all of my 'forced drugging' incidents (except one particular thing, but that was only in the very beginning, and nothing like it ever happened again) might possibly be explained by residues. I can observe them and I can account for how they got there. They haven't just appeared out of nowhere. They all resulted from my handling various herbal plants and seeds, and the prozac residue years ago would have resulted from, obviously, handling and using prozac. That's a long story, but I'm not worried about that right now.

'Not all camels are blind,' but some of them are going to be sort of blind to the hidden meanings of things due to their socionic type, while at the same time, their socionic type is the thing we love most about them, but alas, we must communicate through all of those socionic weaknesses. So that's why I'm waking up from sleep today hearing voices that suggested a few translations that I need to do, and if they give me the idea of what to look for, and if they give me a faith that I am, actually, going to find something meaningful buried in there, in spite of the fact that I really, truly am blind to the hidden meanings of things, still, I will find something there, and it will be something important. (Wow, was that sentence grammatically correct? I wandered off on a tangent and lost it along the way.)

Now, I've been a little bit annoyed with the enneagram lately, as I've decided that whatever is wrong with it, it's so messed up that the entire thing would need to be redone from scratch. But even so, I'm going to mention that the enneagram seven's worst fear is to be trapped in pain and deprivation. And I feel that buried in your words. I don't always feel it - in fact, much of the time, I am naive and optimistic, of course, and I have to be *told* by someone else that the pain and deprivation is in there. But I've experienced the pain and deprivation myself. Odd, that the very things we socionically love about someone are the very things that make it most difficult to have a secret conversation.

Anyway, I've been having this problem with the residues for the last few weeks, but it is nothing sinister. And I am going to survive it.

And by the way, don't try to translate my silly little joke. It was sloppy and hasty and quickly posted, and I made no effort whatsoever to preserve the deeper meanings and to make sure that all of the details were congruent with those meanings. It was totally random gibberish. However, I demonstrated a willingness to do a close read and to spend large amounts of time reading each sentence thoroughly. So that silly thing I posted was just manic babbling.

But now and then I do hear the song of your words and I feel it. I am indeed a puppet, and I am receiving suggestions from someone outside myself, so I will once in a while get a nudge, and no, don't take 'nudge' literally, it's only a figurative nudge, but I will get some little bit of a push of some kind to urge me to view the situation differently and to look for hidden meanings that I wasn't aware of.

The part where I stopped reading and just skipped quickly over it, in the forum post that made me start laughing uncontrollably for hours and hours, due to the particular drug reaction I was having, and yes, I didn't just do a little tiny chuckle or a polite smile, this was uncontrollable laughter and shaking which went on for hours. It was an extremely intense suppressed emotion. It wasn't merely caused by the drug residues. The emotion itself was triggered by what I was reading, and I didn't understand it and could not explain it consciously. Often, laughter and crying are the same thing. So anyway, the part that I couldn't read was the last few lines of the extraction scenario, something about people going away and finding things somewhere else after the bread is gone. (How silly of them. I could show them a thing or two, as I myself was fond of bringing gifts to give to Curtis every once in a while, but I'd have to find some other kind of gift for YOU, because you've said that you don't like mountains being destroyed, so I'd have to find, like, well, a really, really, really dense piece of mahogany or something. And I promise, I wouldn't be, like, stuffing the mahogany with tungsten or something. You see I'm not at all secretive in the way I do things, and any attempt to be secretive or indirect ends up being a kind of mixed metaphor, very sloppy. (Did you know I existed before I commented on your blog?) And speaking of all this, you know who else needs help from a dual, really badly? Antal Fekete. I really learned a lot from reading his explanations of real bills of exchange. He has a little story, and I can't recall the title, but it tells the story of how the real bills work.). And as always, I'm oblivious to alternative meanings of words, and I never, ever use the word 'bread' or 'dough' to mean money (those words have unpleasant connotations to me, sort of like, organized crime and mafia - they're the only people who use those words - and 'organized crime and mafia' are something that... are frightening to me... and as every targeted individual struggles to explain who is attacking them and why they are attacking, we always wonder if it is some kind of organized crime gang), so that wouldn't even occur to me at all to interpret it as having anything at all to do with money.

Ah, what we love most about someone's sociotype is the very thing that makes them totally, hopelessly incapable of understanding a word we say. How very annoying that would be.

I'm going to read the forum again. But anyway yes, I've sworn, many times, that I choose life, and that life is the most wonderful thing on earth, and I won't be giving up mine, and I don't want anyone to give up theirs either.