I am the body, so when I use the I reference, I am solely speaking of the vehicle, which is more like a bus than a car and when I say They, I speak of the passengers as separate individual people.
I cannot tell you when I took on the twelve disciples, but feel it was at the end of an atrocious journey. One in which I was thrown to the lions, left for dead, dragged through the mud and forced to do awful things to myself.
When I was very young my existence was about fear, pain and insecurity. My parents did the best they could, but were not driven by sound people and our existence was chaotic and uncertain.
By the time I was eight years of age I did not know whether I was coming or going, but then and all of a sudden something wonderful happened. My parents bought a home in a nice town, in an area wherein my cousins lived and my grandfather owned a farm.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was safe! I went back to an elementary school I had gone to for a brief time in second grade, so did remember some of the kids in my fourth grade class. I had a driveway, a basketball hoop, my own yard, a nice bedroom with two windows and was hanging out with my cousins.
Life was good, as They say, but They just could not leave it alone and destroyed everything.
I felt safe and protected for about four months and then one day I got off the bus and went to my cousin’s house as I usually did, only to be alerted by my Aunt that there was a moving truck outside my house. I ran home and my mother gave me the devastating news.
From that point on, to the age of forty-three I was stuck in a traffic jam and my path was determined by the vehicles around me, which were being driven by lunatics, demons and cowards.
The last twenty-five years of my journey were propelled by my own passengers and they were just as crazy as the people driving the traffic jam.
I took on so much pain when I was young and when I saw the moving van from the top of Ocean Boulevard I knew there was no God!
From that point on to the age of forty-three years old, when I crashed my personal vehicle into a tree, I was all alone! I hated myself, every body around me; especially the people driving me.
I never wanted to be a car and definitely did not want to be a bus, but was stuck here, and at the end of my atrocious journey was praying to God again, but only had two requests; to save me or take me back. This is when I hit the tree and realized that I did not have to take these people to where they wanted to go.
They could go to hell, but I did not have to take Them there.
I believe this is when some new passengers got on board. From that day forward and for nearly eleven years I have not had a drink or a drug and have been on a more constructive path.
Most recently and for the last year or so, I dream of the 12 disciples dwelling within and somehow feel like Christ is involved with me personally, but do not know what to do except write.
I feel like Christ wants me to write.
I feel like Christ is 12 people.
I feel like all 12 people now dwell within and are at war with Man.
I share with you a tiny spec of myself and can assure you that it was way worse than expressed, but is in no way even close to what Man has truly done to us.
Once we are a vehicle they literally drive us into the ground and take all of our life along the way, but as awful as this sounds, it is nothing close to the magnitude of Man’s real crime against humanity; for Man is Man, but we are humanity!
I will tell you more in the next chapter.
It is time for me to speak.