Did that just happen?

Sorry for the wait. I had the wrong date for posting. It's fixed now.

So…. I think I created a superhero. As if magically pulled out of my head.

Look, I’m not sure if this has anything to do with the wizards and magicians of the world doing something to create hope and happiness in the world, or defeating some great evil. I’m just a simple pagan sorcerer, and a lazy one at that, so I have no idea what these great and powerful magi do in their spare time. For all I know this was Witchstone and Athame doing battle again and needed help, or Mr. Mystic once again called upon the power of the humans of the earth, anything is possible.

In this case, it was a meditation tape. Go fig, for a practice known as chod. If you need an explanation get Feeding your Demons. Good book. Anyway one of the practices is meeting the manifestation of your inner darkness, your demon if you will. I have plenty, from depression, anxiety attacks, mortality issues, the fact that I still don’t have a job and no money coming in from unemployment and rents continue to soar in this city, you get the idea.

Anyway, I’ll leave out some of the personal stuff as I imagined my own fears made manifest, a snarling hairy demon with a huge mouth full of needle like teeth. It has small black eyes, noticed only by the white center and a body that morphed in perspective. I followed the instructions, sat with it, asked what it wanted. It wanted my flesh and my death.

The last question you ask it is “how would you feel if you are satisfied.”

It replied, “Strong! Free!”

(I’m paraphrasing a lot. I’m not putting my inner most spiritual discoveries online for free, you know. The good stuff costs extra.)

The next step is letting it take it’s full from my body. I fed it. I gave it more and it grew huge. I thought it was done and it screamed, “You’re not dead yet!” So I gave it more.

Suddenly the hairy dark flesh fell away. It had human male features, a head, arms, and an extraordinarily huge and chiseled torso, all gleaming a ghostly ivory white. Its hands held huge cartoonish gauntlets of power and his hair shortened to a superman cut of hair complete with the front wave. He was extraordinary, huge and powerful. He glowed. Then said simply, “free.” He was strong. He was free.

And he leapt out of my apartment through the ceiling. Thankfully, this was a meditation. Such actions are not covered under our renters insurance. Behind, where the beast should have been, now sat Jenny again. She had become my ally, which was nothing new. A bunch redacted for content. Suffice to say, Jenny and I have a long history and I should really finish my books with her.

I felt better, more relieved in a way, and ready to face things. The hour long meditation/nap session certainly helped if nothing else.

Things went on normal from there. I wrote, I wondered, I made dinner. Life goes on.

Two days later, hearing back about a possible job, short term, two weeks, and waiting to for an interview, I saw something online. We were all mourning another musical superstar called back to the Eternal far too early when a small note appeared about a traffic accident that almost took eight lives in Ducklyn. Apparently, someone failed to stop at light which caused another car, which held three teens heading back from one of the seventeen catholic high schools here, to swerve. The swerving car ended up pointed directly at a crossing agitated mother and her three kids. Spinning out, the side of the car would have crashed into another car with an overly worked landlord inside. All together, at the speed and angles, the two cars would have impaled each other with the family trapped in between, each life snuffed out brutally on a common accident gone horribly wrong. I would have expected to read about them as a passing note of another massive fatality on the roads.

Instead a ghostly white superhero with huge power gauntlets swooped in from the sky. He landed, scoped up the family in one powerful arm. His other hand grew just before he slapped at the spinning car’s trunk, stopping it dead before it could impact. He leapt up to the sky, family in hand, just enough to hover over the foot or so of room between the cars. He managed to push the cars apart and save the family walking across the street at the time who would have ended up the meat of a vehicular sandwich.

He stayed only long enough to set the family down. They asked who he was while he flew with them out of the way.

“I am strong.” He said. “I am free. And I’m here to help the world.”

Then he set them down and flew away to his next adventure.

I couldn’t help but wonder. Was that me? Did I somehow create a hero? Coincidence or madness perhaps? I thought about heading down to either the local Quantum Academy branch or even GTI to get tested. Instead I’m here on the internet telling perfect strangers the workings of my inner mind and wondering if I can get access to the coffee I need to keep writing tonight.

So I’ll let you decide Internet Land.

Am I crazy? Powerful? Psychic? Or just a deluded writer in a fictional world of my own?

Keep Dreaming

Daniel