Diary of a Human Target (Book Two) - The Path Towards the Inside

DIARY OF A HUMAN TARGET (BOOK TWO)

  THE PATH TOWARDS THE INSIDE

  written by

  ISIDORA VEY

  Copyright © 2016, Isidora Vey

  All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced,

  in part or in full, digital or otherwise,

  without prior written permission from the author.

  This diary is a work of fiction.

  Any similarity to persons and events

  is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1: Metaphysical Quest

  Spring 1990

  Years pass by very fast, I am almost 27 now and I have hardly realized I am that old. At this age, I should have already sorted out where my life is leading; however, there is no progress in any field, and there never will be -I know. Let's face it, there is nothing here for me. Therefore, I think it is high time I did what I have been postponing for years: Take the path towards the inside...

  From the beginning of March I have started to attend parapsychology lessons in a school of spiritual development called “Janus”. Although it is in Kypseli, very far away from Glyfada, I am eager to go there once a week, defying the exhaustion from the double bus journey to and from Athens: Since I still work in my office near Omonia Square in the mornings, every Wednesday -when I go to Janus- I spend six or seven hours of commuting in all. However, I don't mind because I feel there are new spiritual horizons opening for me there. The fact is that metaphysics really excites me, and it is the first time in my life I am excited about something.

  The lessons include teachings of the guru Alexander Romanos regarding the evolution of the soul, the domination of the subconscious in a man's life, methods of relaxation and meditation, the awakening of telepathy and so on. The guru is gifted with a lot of eloquence, he knows well the art of persuasion, he is said to possess psychic powers, and he doesn't hesitate to go against the dominant dogmas of metaphysics. For instance, he doesn't believe in the theory of karma -in contrast to all the other schools of spiritual development.

  We have already learned a basic technique of relaxation, which can be applied either sitting on a chair or lying in bed, as long as the spinal cord is kept straight: In the beginning, we relax our body from toe to top, giving the respective mental orders to each body part separately. For instance: “My feet relax” … “My calves relax” … “My thighs relax” … and so on, to the head. Then, always mentally, we countdown from 10 to 1, ordering ourselves to relax after each number -for example: “10: I relax, I relax” … “9: I relax deeper” … “8: Deeper and deeper” … “7: No external noise interrupts my relaxation” and so on, till you reach 1. When we reach zero, we enter the “void space”, where we let no thought or feeling come inside us. We stay there, in absolute tranquility, for as much time as we can.

  Alternatively, after staying in “void space” for a while, we choose a subject and meditate on it as thoroughly as possible, taking into account events, thoughts, feelings, ways of action; after the awakening, we write everything in a notebook. By following this specific technique, the subconscious gets clearer and clearer; later on, as we keep practicing, the unconscious reveals itself too, unfolding great cosmic truths which could lead even to enlightenment.

  The awakening is done by counting slowly from 1 to 5, while ordering ourselves to wake up with all our senses on the alert. After the number 5, we open our eyes and stand up at our ease.

  When we finish the lesson, some of the guys gather together and we go for a coffee to Fokionos Negri Square, where we discuss lots of controversial but interesting subjects: parapsychology, spiritual development, magic, social matters, etc. Some of us meet on Saturday nights too. I can barely believe what's happening to me: It is me who goes out every Saturday night, having fun in tavernas, cafeterias and pubs, together with an interesting, large company! I experience and enjoy my new reality to the fullest, even if sometimes I feel that the atmosphere around me is strangely tense...

  From the company of Janus I especially like Apostolis: He is 25 years old, tall, slender, calm and sensible -unlike most guys I know. I show him my interest at every opportunity, he doesn't seem to respond but I, as usual, refuse to acknowledge the bitter truth. Only once did he accept to go out with me, just the two of us, because he thought he could persuade me to take out a life assurance policy by the insurance company he works for; I pretended to care only because I hoped I could start dating him. Another time, I phoned him and suggested our going to the cinema together. “I have other plans for today”, he answered flatly. Since then, any time we meet together with the others, he looks rather buttoned-up towards me but very friendly to Danae, who is eight years younger than me and much richer. Nevertheless, I still hope...

  Friday, 29th July 1990

  Every year “Pangaea” remains closed during the whole month of August, which is very convenient to me: I won't have to fight in order to get my summer leave! I have already arranged to spend a week abroad: I will go to Dalmatia with a travel agency and the group leaves tomorrow. Of course, first I finished typing all the texts given to me, I delivered them to Mary Bonanos yesterday (she happens to work for Pangaea too) and I explained to her I wouldn't be able to type any more this month -that is, they will have to do without me for three days. She bore no objection, since the company is about to close, anyway.

  This morning, however, I had an entirely unexpected phone call; as soon as I picked up the receiver, I heard a very angry woman's voice telling me:

  “Listen, Yvonne, I am Mary from Pangaea and I am furious at you! You left us three days before the end of July, while there is still so much work to do! And don't forget that I was the one who talked to the bosses and they hired you as a typist!”

  For a moment I was speechless; then I answered calmly that “I thought there wasn't so much work to do and that I could leave...”

  “What are you talking about? There are whole volumes of our new encyclopedia waiting to be typed! You hear? Whole volumes!” she interrupted, outraged.

  “Yes, but I'm leaving for Yugoslavia tomorrow! What can I do?”

  “Find us another typist, one who can sub for you during these three days that you won't be working for us!”

  “Alright, I will try” I replied hastily, just because I wanted get rid of her as soon as possible.

  “And make sure she is educated, not an illiterate one, you understand?”

  “Yes, alright...”

  I thought about Mrs Georgia, a schoolmate in Janus, who also happens to be a typist. I came in contact with her at once, I told her all about it and asked her to visit the company tomorrow morning. She expressed her wonder about the whole story, she was even worried “But what if they hire me and fire you?” but I insisted on her going there, because I didn't want to displease Mary Bonanos and the bosses of Pangaea.

  Wednesday, 10th August 1990

  The trip to Dalmatia proved to be a fiasco: The group consisted of some boring old people, and the primadonna was a black-dressed middle-aged shrew who wouldn't miss a chance to show off her knowledge in everything, while the others were admiring and applauding her. The only company I managed to find was a 42-year-old divorced lady with her 5-year-old son. She told me she had two adult daughters as well, and that she had given birth to that boy so as to keep her aged lover -yet he got away. So, the lady was always in a bad mood, she didn't have much to say, but she dropped me certain hints every now and then: “I don't know if you are still in the market, but I am not”, or “Do you mind your that you didn't get married?” -as if I were some 50-year-old spinster.
br />   Moreover, I was unlucky enough to share the room with an old neurasthenic who swallowed the sleeping pills by the dozen, yet she couldn't get any sleep and when the morning came she started complaining to me:

  “Aren't you ashamed at all? You look at your watch, at 6:30, before the day breaks, then you put it on the bedside table and the noise wakes me up! Shame on you!”

  “Eeeeh, I'm sorry!”

  “And you snore all night long and you don't let me sleep!”

  The hen got on my nerves with her hysteria; first of all, I don't snore; then, every morning we had to be at the foyer by 7:00, ready for the tour of the day.

  After a couple of such incidents, I went to the reception and asked to be given a single room, but there were no such rooms in the hotel, I was told. I complained about that to the travel agent, to no avail of course, everybody in the group got wind of the situation, and in the end they were all fond of the old neurasthenic, while they looked askance at me.

  Anyway, I saw some beautiful places as well: Herceg Novi, Kotor, Cetinje, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Budva, Saint Stephen. However, the good impressions were blemished by the four exhausting days (two to go and two to return) in the small but packed ship...

  This morning I phoned Georgia and asked her about her collaboration with Pangaea. To my great astonishment, she informed me that they didn't need her at all and that they were surprised to see her!

  Monday, 3rd September 1990

  Pangaea is open again for the first day after the summer holidays, and I went to find Mrs Bonanos in her office.

  “How are things, Mary?” I asked smiling. “Did you have any problem during those days I was away? I sent you another typist, like you told me on the phone, but she said that you didn't need her at all!”

  “What? I never phoned you!” she replied astounded.

  “But you called me on the 29th of July and you said that...”

  “It wasn't me! It was probably Mary Skina!”

  Right at that moment, Mary Skina happened to enter the office and, full of joy and laughs, confirmed it was her who had phoned me!

  “So, it was you,” I told her solemnly. “I thought it was Mary Bonanos, that's why I was worried! You introduced yourself as ''Mary from Pangaea'', and your voices are alike...”

  “Oh, no, it was me!” she repeated, with an innocent smile on her face.

  If I had known it was Skina on the phone then, I would have acted differently and, of course, I wouldn't have involved Georgia. Mary Skina is an old maid who works as a typist inside the company; she is a little nutty, she tends to overreact and all she thinks about is how to do as little work as possible. She is not to be taken into account...