Untitled - Awaken Video

Chapter 8. The Making of a Seiðman 205
but several mushroom books, studied the chemical makeup of the mushroom, read
numerous reports of amatoxic poisonings, and concluded the hallucination to be
not only wrong but dangerous. Fortunately, as far as I knew, the mushroom was
extremely rare around these parts so while I continued to have the dreams and
basically ignored what they had to say. The second ghost/hallucination which came
was that of a huge flower that seemed to grow and some high mountainous region of
South America. In my mind this was very fortunate because this particular ghost
was not very nice. In fact, he was very threatening, warrior like: all business and
dangerous to deal with. This ghost was quite different from the Fly Agaric, who
was a rather friendly, funny, elflike creature. The ghost of the flower seemed to be
more like an evil demon something like a Catholic devil type creature never to be
trusted. My life went on in an unpredictable fashion and I would encounter both of
these ghosts again.
The plant ghosts described above haunted me through the winter of 1991. There
was a change my disease, however, by March of 1991 and the hallucinations became
much more intense. By this time I had tried and failed with the second round of
antibiotics. The ghosts began to arrive in small groups. These, different from the
plant ghosts, began to take me places, nasty, dark places, in my dreaming. Also
differently, these ghosts began to dismantle my body by ripping, slashing, tearing,
and cutting. Through the spring of 1991 I was torn apart several times, had holes
torn in various parts of my body, had appendages removed through not-so-surgical
procedures, and in general, I was battered, bruised, and beaten severely. My sleep
world had become a dungeon of horrors. Physically, I was required to sleep in a
sitting position only because lying down would result in spasmodic coughing which
could not be stopped. The pleurisy had developed to a point where I had to wrap
my chest tightly with an ace bandage just to breathe. I hated to go to sleep because
of the dreams but I had no choice because my body would not stay awake.
Through the spring my life consisted of pain and nightmares. Physically, I was
never comfortable. Mentally, I was ravaged. At one point, birds of prey came and
ripped open the top of my head just let the wind pass through from the top of my
head out through my anus. The pain was immense and unbearable. Another time,
I was wandering through some underground caves, was snatched up by a giant of a
man, had my head torn from my body, and my body was slowly cut with giant razor
blades into hundreds of pieces like human stew meat. Each cut burned. The parts
of my body were thrown into three large stewpots with boiling water that looked as
if it had been dredged up from the bottom of a swamp. The water burned my skin
somewhere way beyond 3rd degree burns. My bones, when the flesh had fallen away
to the bottom of the sewage pot, were dredged up and beaten on an anvil with a
huge sledgehammer until they were little more than powdery sludge. Each ring of