The Contagion.
I wanted to tell you my story, but I know you will not believe it, and if you do, you will cut yourself off in fear and I will be further ostracised.
If you choose not to believe, you will call me delusional.
A mad woman. A witch.
It will be a polite, "Don't ring me, I'll ring you"
Fear will show in your eyes, then anger.
Somehow my presence has shared the threat on my life, and therefore threatened you, or your family.
You won't want a threat contagion.
You won't want to walk beside me.
Nor be seen with me.
You will ask me not to ring you.
Not to visit.
If you live near me, you will always look the other way.
You will become like me.
Scared, Jumpy, Worried. Alienated.
From the day I tell you my secrets, you will be looking over your shoulder.
You will be afraid.
You won't want that.
My story includes the murder of a big wheel racing car driver, shot in his driveway, two crooked coppers, plus two others called Egbit and another called Preston. A drug dealer called Terry Falconer.
Several murders, another wanted drug dealer, a Versace house and at least one other side story, including the tip off files which helped in the search and the murder of OsamabinLaden, head of ALQaeda.
There are strange surrealist stories, like the foreboding of the London terrorist bombing of the underground in 2005.
Sixth sense stories like Thredbo and Port Arthur.
Unexplainable stories.
Unverified.
Unable to be proved.
I don't really know where to begin, or what I should say or even how to tell it.
I do know I must write it while I still have time.
I must write it before I am truly old and I forget it, or totally lose my sight, and hearing, or worse still, my mind.
I thought I could creatively tell my story as a series of short stories, because that's how life happens.
Lots of little pieces of a bigger puzzle.
Life is a series of daily events.
Sometimes mundane, sometimes full of action, while most events and coincidences appear unconnected but they aren't.
What I have learnt is that there is a bigger picture.
That I am just one cell in the toe of God.
I live on a planet which is somehow connected to a huge expanse in the cosmos.
A space greater and bigger than all of us.
Yet that sense of smallness, does not diminish our role here.
There are many smaller beings than us.
All with a role to play.
Some tiny individuals are not just one, but form part of a larger life. Bees or ants for instance, are one part of a colony.
We see them as individuals, but they are not.
I haven't fully understood the meaning of life yet, or the extent of good and evil or what role each of us has to play. Not yet.
Maybe wisdom is on it's way, but in the meantime there is confusion, disturbance, fear countered by overt optimism and cunning courage.
Life is like a balancing act. Sometimes swinging like a pendulum. back and forth, with momentum changing, sometimes slow like a see-saw and other times fearfully fast.
Sometimes it feels like I am caught in a vortex. Strange and unexplained events seem to take control, and a sort of sixth sense, with a sting of survival, kicks in.
A strange sixth sense seems to control my thoughts. It sort of collars me. Grabs me. Takes over. I am forced to trust and obey.
It makes me to wonder if we are really a single entity, one mind in one body.
Do we really have control, or choice or individual destiny?
Another nagging question, is why me?
What I do know, is this. I am not alone. I live under God's umbrella.
This is is a strange journey, with many a strange story to tell.
So here is "the telling".
