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<blockquote data-quote="taykair" data-source="post: 169637" data-attributes="member: 9418"><p style="text-align: center">Chapter Fourteen</p> <p style="text-align: center">The Frustrated New Age Guru (2001-2005)</p><p></p><p>The story you've read thus far has (more or less) been told before. It once existed on a number of internet forums dedicated to paranomal phenomena. It even had its own blog (like duh, dude, what doesn't?). It was a hot topic of discussion in many chatrooms - or so I've been told. And it was responsible for generating about a fifty-fold increase in the volume of my email. At least, for awhile.</p><p></p><p>I came rather late to the internet party. (It was either late 2001 or early 2002. I really can't recall.) I had no idea, when I first went online with my life's story, that it would be received in the way that it was. Or, rather, in the dual way that it was.</p><p></p><p>On the one hand, there was the almost instant following I received (and tried, for a short time, to control) from hundreds of people.</p><p></p><p>On the other hand, there were the thousands upon thousands of folks who (quite rightly) said, "So what?"</p><p></p><p>Latter hand first: Strange tales (not to mention strange people) abound on the internet - especially at the sites I used to frequent. I've met vampires and witches. I've encountered stranded time travellers. I've met several hundred out-of-body travelers. Psychics. Folks who claim to have been abducted by extraterrestrials. Folks who claimed to <em>be</em> extraterrestrials. Bigfoot hunters. Even a messiah or two. Compared to the stories told by many of these folks, my poor tale was mundane to the point of blandness.</p><p></p><p>This was frustrating enough. After all, just who in the hell did these kooks think they were? They were living in their own little fantasy worlds, just making up truckload after truckload of that which is spread underneath rosebushes. My story was real.</p><p></p><p>Wasn't it?</p><p></p><p>It was probably at this point in time that the thin edge of the wedge of doubt began to slip into my consciousness. It would grow wider.</p><p></p><p>But not yet. I still had my own followers. Folks who seemed to hang upon my every word. Folks who would defend me from the attacks of the infidel. Folks who would email me to ask for more information (even though I had no more to give). Folks who would tell me that they had also encountered the S'di or had been to Place of Light. Folks who would ask my advice about this or that or some other damned thing. Folks who would ask me to pray for them so they would be healed.</p><p></p><p><em>'Well, Michael, my boy,' I thought, 'You may not have ever been a pastor, but you are on your way as a guru.'</em></p><p></p><p>Yet this, too, was frustrating. Not only because it felt as if these people were picking off little pieces of me to the point where would soon be nothing left, but because something was not quite right about the whole thing.</p><p></p><p>The wedge was moving deeper.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="taykair, post: 169637, member: 9418"] [CENTER]Chapter Fourteen The Frustrated New Age Guru (2001-2005)[/CENTER] The story you've read thus far has (more or less) been told before. It once existed on a number of internet forums dedicated to paranomal phenomena. It even had its own blog (like duh, dude, what doesn't?). It was a hot topic of discussion in many chatrooms - or so I've been told. And it was responsible for generating about a fifty-fold increase in the volume of my email. At least, for awhile. I came rather late to the internet party. (It was either late 2001 or early 2002. I really can't recall.) I had no idea, when I first went online with my life's story, that it would be received in the way that it was. Or, rather, in the dual way that it was. On the one hand, there was the almost instant following I received (and tried, for a short time, to control) from hundreds of people. On the other hand, there were the thousands upon thousands of folks who (quite rightly) said, "So what?" Latter hand first: Strange tales (not to mention strange people) abound on the internet - especially at the sites I used to frequent. I've met vampires and witches. I've encountered stranded time travellers. I've met several hundred out-of-body travelers. Psychics. Folks who claim to have been abducted by extraterrestrials. Folks who claimed to [I]be[/I] extraterrestrials. Bigfoot hunters. Even a messiah or two. Compared to the stories told by many of these folks, my poor tale was mundane to the point of blandness. This was frustrating enough. After all, just who in the hell did these kooks think they were? They were living in their own little fantasy worlds, just making up truckload after truckload of that which is spread underneath rosebushes. My story was real. Wasn't it? It was probably at this point in time that the thin edge of the wedge of doubt began to slip into my consciousness. It would grow wider. But not yet. I still had my own followers. Folks who seemed to hang upon my every word. Folks who would defend me from the attacks of the infidel. Folks who would email me to ask for more information (even though I had no more to give). Folks who would tell me that they had also encountered the S'di or had been to Place of Light. Folks who would ask my advice about this or that or some other damned thing. Folks who would ask me to pray for them so they would be healed. [I]'Well, Michael, my boy,' I thought, 'You may not have ever been a pastor, but you are on your way as a guru.'[/I] Yet this, too, was frustrating. Not only because it felt as if these people were picking off little pieces of me to the point where would soon be nothing left, but because something was not quite right about the whole thing. The wedge was moving deeper. [/QUOTE]
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