This isn’t the right time.  That came in using the voice of my internal narrator, and it wasn’t mixed with Anna Karenina’s voice, so it wasn’t Anna that I was talking to.  I define just that internal narrator voice to be the voice of my future at some particular time—independent of my relationship with […]

     Am I composed ?  That’s what I heard: so I said, “I don’t know, are You?”  It sounded like the voice I had assigned to Anna—part Anna Karenina’s voice and part the voice of my internal narrator.  But I didn’t want to talk to Anna at this moment because I was afraid we’d argue. 

     The fuehrer was doing his thing: popping Pervitin like candy, and you had to wonder: how could the fuehrer, who was a health nut, not know that methamphetamines were bad for him?  He must not have wanted to know—or he did know and that was one of the reasons he was so angry.  (Because

     I didn’t know what to say at first when I was confronted by a thought—the conductor of a train, a young man, in Alaska, that told us about the history of the region over the microphone and then showed his face and posed the question:  “Does the voice match the face?”       So I

     it’s a painstaking process—turning dark to light, and basically saying, in short, that your going to control your breathing and pay attention to your body while you measure the seconds with your natural voice for consonants and Anna Karenina’s voice for vowels.  So we were going to accept them and also the other parts

     i wasn’t feeling up to much of anything, and McCord wasn’t either.  So I asked myself what, after all, was getting me down?  Was it the futility of trying to speak telepathically with evil defined?  As for everybody else, I was getting the basic questions:  Anna Karenina was asking me what I wanted, and

     Then I heard Hitler’s voice saying, “Nein, Nein, Nein!”  Well, I wasn’t in his body, at this point, so it wasn’t me saying that; I didn’t see how it could be Hitler, either, since you had to be good—and connected to good in the future (where only good survives), so it must have been

5      “Who are you?”  I heard that in Anna’s voice after striking a chord that was made up of my voice, my nephew’s voice, and Anna Karenina’s voice.  This was big news!  I’d made contact, so I knew, at that point, that I was on target.  Now, I doubt Anna actually sat down and

     suddenly i didn’t want to shift into Hitler or Jack Daniels’ body anymore; however, because of my risperidone, I might find myself, at times, shifting a little anyhow:  sometimes goodness isn’t an option—it’s required, which, you may remember from a Sunday school class, is what the devil wanted for everybody.  He wanted us to

     I can hear people talking, somebody said in Jack Daniels’ brain—it sounded kind of like Anna Karenina, but it wasn’t Anna Karenina, and it wasn’t the voice I’d assigned to Anna, either, which was part Anna Karenina and part the voice of some internal narrator I had on default half the time—a voice I