Reader Post | By GK
i KNOW i’M A FREAK. uNLIKE ANYONE ELSE.
I know I just tried to write a sentence with CAPS LOCK on.
I know I am a broken human being. One might think I was broken at 14 years old, May 6th to be exact when I walked to school because I missed the bus down the railroad tracks and got hit by an Amtrak train.
But seriously, I would have had to have been broken before that morning for that to even have happened.
There were weird things in my childhood that had to have had something to do with my broken state of being. I honestly don’t know but one guess would have to do with experimental stuff on certain people, certain families. Kalmes seems to be a name that has some significance in this world.
There are many Jewish Kalmes families in the heavily Jewish city of Skokie Illinois.
Famous because the Ku Klux Klan had a brief but lame psyop that fizzled out way back in the 70s, I think. About 5 of them drove through wearing their most excellent costumes and pointy hats.
There are also many Kalmes families who became Catholics. My Kalmes family had money at some point that the Catholic Clergy convinced my kin to leave to them. Saint Patrick’s Church in Lake Forest Illinois sits on the land they left them.
That land is a billion dollar property.
I had my first communion there.
Here’s a few factoids that are oddly coincidental. Lake Forest was at one point the second richest community in the world and Luxembourg, where the Kalmes name traces to is the second richest country in the world. Second to the Vatican I believe. Stats change so I don’t know who owns the most fake wealth these days but I am an autist, a rainman. I recognize and remember patterns and coincidences like a squirrel remembers where he buried an acorn 6 months later.
I used to enjoy writing but I don’t anymore. It’s just that I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I always thought something I wrote would make my life easier but it hasn’t. Maybe the fact I am brutally honest has made my life a constant watch list of– don’t let this Kalmes reach any success.
Almost as if the Rothschild kin, may have been the Kalmes family that got chosen for centuries old social experimentation. What happens to our kin when we are raised under moderate controlled conditions.
I had some of the known checklist of MK-Ultra kids. Sleep walking, weird trances, even physicality that was almost super human. Hit by a train in a single bound type stuff, but on the playground, extraordinary capabilities to take on many kids at once. It wasn’t size, it was agility, like balance, speed, agility like a Martial artist but after the train when my right arm was completely crippled for life, I lost a lot of confidence that made me avoid fights rather than try to win them left handed.
The thing I am saying here is, my entire life is an inexplicable stream of broken.
I bet almost no one here, reading this has ever run out of gas and yet I have probably run out of gas a dozen times at least. That has to be an autist trait right? Each one of those stories has other amazing insanity attached to it like illegal adventures, or car chases or Christ, stories that are really entertaining but I have run out of gas on writing any of it down.
The word Broken is constantly in my head as well as regrets. I want so much of it back.
I think the social engineers control our dreams as when we are in deep REM sleeps put us through clinically staged theater. We interact with actors and scripts that test psychological experiments.
I know that this short essay is the tip of my iceberg but isn’t it odd I appear to be the exact lineage I hold in contempt constantly?
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