I have walked along a road
That not many will take on
I have carried heavy loads
I've done right. I've done wrong.
I have held a pilgrim's pack
So long... so long...

Chorus
I am now a living stone
In a house which no one found
And I have felt my spirit groan
With no one else around

Alone
Alone

And I am still a living stone
I gave up, oh, all of Me
I am just a stone that stumbles
And I am a stone thrown free

Chorus

I am just a part of castles
In the sky & on the brink
I'm a stone cast on a pond
Skipping there at last to sink

Alone
Alone

Through many trials, Toils and snares
The slave trader came to know
Like him I know I brought it in
With the rock & with the snow...

But....

I know bruised reeds He will not break
A gut'ring lamp He won't put out
Though I'm rejected by the world
Here am I to scream out loud...

I'm not alone!
I'm not alone!

I'm not alone...


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
3/18/2021

I have walked along a road
That not many will take on
I have carried heavy loads
I've done right. I've done wrong.
I have held a pilgrim's pack
So long... so long...

Chorus
I am now a living stone
In a house which no one found
And I have felt my spirit groan
With no one else around

Alone
Alone

And I am still a living stone
I gave up, oh, all of Me
I am just a stone that stumbles
And I am a stone thrown free

Chorus

I am just a part of castles
In the sky & on the brink
I'm a stone cast on a pond
Skipping there at last to sink

Alone
Alone

Through many trials, Toils and snares
The slave trader came to know
Like him I know I brought it in
With the rock & with the snow...

But...

I know bruised reeds He will not break
A gut'ring lamp He won't put out
Though I'm rejected by the world
Here am I to scream out loud...

I'm not alone!
I'm not alone!

I'm not alone...


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
3/18/2021

have walked along a road
That not many will take on
I have carried heavy loads
I've done right. I've done wrong.
I have held a pilgrim's pack
So long... so long...

Chorus
I am now a living stone
In a house which no one found
And I have felt my spirit groan
With no one else around

Alone
Alone

And I am still a living stone
I gave up, oh, all of Me
I am just a stone that stumbles
And I am a stone thrown free

Chorus

I am just a part of castles
In the sky & on the brink
I'm a stone cast on a pond
Skipping there at last to sink

Alone
Alone

Through many trials, Toils and snares
The slave trader came to know
Like him I know I brought it in
With the rock & with the snow...

But...

I know bruised reeds He will not break
A gut'ring lamp He won't put out
Though I'm rejected by the world
Here am I to scream out loud...

I'm not alone!
I'm not alone!

I'm not alone...



SoulSurvivor
aka
Write of Passage
3/18/2021

There was once a little boy
Without a friend
without a toy

A little girl who's gone astray
Without a guide
she lost her way

A man who walked
the desert sand
Lost within a foreign land

There was a lady who was lost
Wandering to count the cost

The way was hidden,
did not show
They all had no place to go

Suddenly they heard a sound
Puzzled, they all looked around

There was a lizard on a rock
To their amazement it could talk!

Here I am! The lizard said
Right here in this rocky bed!

Meet me here,
Come one, come all!
Hear me as I make this call!

Come see what I have in store
You won't be lonely anymore!

They listened to their
lizard brother
Come to find they met each other!

They made new friends
Were not alone
Due to that lizard on a stone.

---

should
life's
banquet
be
a
table
set
for
only

one?


soul­survivor
(C) 9/25/2015

shivering
shadows
of lingering fingers
fulfilling... culminating
this coil of mortality...
muted mystery
sought

bewitching
he runs his hands
ravishing desires...
beautiful thought

harbinger to eternity
he holds your heart
within ethereal
grasp

longing for
languid lethargy
breath becomes
your last...

blackest kiss
transcends bliss
faded flowers known

towards the light
in your flight
to heaven
to God's

throne

glory glitters
all around
you're jaw
is opened
slack!

Jesus says,
"... it's not your time...
my child, you're going

BACK!

I'm the Lover of your soul.
do not covet Death...
he will come when
I allow...
for now, in me rest..."

so, now, you are
caught by Him
back to earth
returned

you have to wait
for divine fate...

*another lesson learned.

Locked in the wintertime of life
Transgression's grip as cold as ice
A dark'ning garden filled with strife
There planted every form of vice
A thorny bush, of bitter hues
I was a bramble so depraved
I wanted naught but to eschew

My life and press on to my grave
My life and press on to my grave

I had no willingness to live
My body bloodied, crushed and sore
No circumspection did I give
The full weight of sin I bore
And like a tyrant my disease
My drug addicted frame of mind
Like a briar wrapped and seized

My heartbreak in a fatal bind
My heartbreak in a fatal bind

Then like the warming light of spring
You came my precious ray of hope
O'r my bramble bush You'd sing
A bud came up to reach & *****
Warmer, warmer was the sun
Birds sang with You in the air
It was then I had begun

To leave behind my sin's despair
To leave behind my sin's despair

The tender bud it thrived and grew
Through deepest drought and bitter rain
And a bright bloom of awesome hue
Burst forth in glory that remains
That beauty is of Jesus Christ
It is to HIM all glory goes
He was the One who took my vice

Now looking down God sees a Rose
Now looking down God sees a Rose


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/15/2016

15-25
I searched for love in Looks
Handsome face and I was hooked
I was shallow, I got took.
How I cried! The tears that shook
these shoulders due to Looksist lies
These men wore masks just to disguise
Now I find they were no prize.

25-35
I went for intellect.
I was much more circumspect.
But i got what you'd expect.
Just because a person has a mind
doesn't mean they're not unkind.
In fact they're meaner, you may find.

35-45
I looked upon the Heart.
Bravery. One who'd take my part.
I looked for talent, love of Art.
But still, no love did this search bring.
My own heart n'er found its wings.
The Heart deceives above all things.

Now I look not for devices.
That bring only deceitful vices.
I'm not willing for those prices.
My man's not beautiful nor bold.
He is smart, but we're both old.
Upon him I am totally sold...

... I finally looked upon the SOUL.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/9/2016

~~~


boxes of my poems

LOST

i still grieve.


♥ soulsurvivor

I found a little poem
In the back drawer
of my soul
It was a fire opal
In a bezel of fine gold

I fashioned a lanyard
Of scarlet ribbon found
But I didn't see...
The knot broke free!
My poem was
on the ground!

I searched in
every corner
My fingers raked
the stones...
But I finally
Gave up the search
Due to my
Aching bones

Yes, i lost my
little poem
In the backyard
Of my mind.
I guess I will just
Leave it there

for someone else to find!


SøułSurvivør
(C) 6/7/2017

begging she
hobbles
wobbly on
bent legs her
garments
unraveled
scarlet
letter
meticulously
embroidered on
sagging
bossom
golden heart worn
upon the wrist
which
wields
the
collapsible
white
cane.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

~~<♡>~~

Here's a concept! Here's a race!
Let's put a SMILE upon a face!

Know a poet who is new?
Or one who's hurting just like you?

One who's bullied? One who's left?
They don't have to be HERE.
Perhaps bereft?

Move a finger and follow them
And write up a quick po-em

About their poetry and style
Make them happy! Make them smile!

Take a moment of your time.
I may make your poem shine!

Let them know HP's "the place"
PUT A SMILE UPON A FACE!!!

♥ Catherine

~~~^♡^~~~

RULES:
Create a write which blesses
another poet. One on one.
Select a poet who you have
never written about before.
An "unknown" as it were.
Someone new or someone
who's been hurt here.
They don't have to be
on site currently.
It can be any style or length.
NO SPAM PLEASE!
It must be a sincere writing
to bless them.

Simply put "#lovefest-contest"
under tags at the very bottom
of the screen where you have
written your poetry.

PRIZE!
On the third of September I will
review the entries under the
#lovefest-contest heading. THEY
MUST BE UNDER THIS HEADING.
The winning entry will SHINE!

I WILL LIGHT IT UP!

This means that it will automatically
TREND.

I'M PUTTING MY MONEY WHERE MY
MOUTH IS! All entries will be reposted by me on my site and
placed on 3 collections.

ANY QUESTIONS COMMENT
HERE OR CONTACT ME VIA
THE SITE MESSAGE SYSTEM

REMEMBER TO CHOOSE SOMEONE
WHO DOESN'T OFTEN GET WRITTEN
ABOUT. SOMEONE HURTING. OR
SOMEONE NEW.

*THANK YOU AND GOOD LUCK!

Black fabric masks
Shark dead eyes
Angels & devils
Wear a disguise
The face, the lips
Are a surprise
What is Truth?
What are lies?

Men & women do the dance
For lure of mating
Take The chance
Whether China. U.S. France  
Certainly a strange romance.

To & fro. Back & forth.
Coast to coast. South to north.
We spoon & marry.
Give in marriage.
Party hardy. Baby carriage.
All the fuss! What can it mean?
Love in the Time of Covid 19.

There's only ONE question.
Who's to blame?
Eating bats? Is it that lame?
In the end it's all the same
'Neath black satin sheets

Love's corpse is lain.

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
11/21/2020

Love's the glue
Which heals the heart
No matter how shattered
Torn appart
Your life's not over
Your doom's not sealed
Your body's broken
Your spirit's healed

Love's the glue
Love's the glue
Flows from His veins
For me and you
He was broken
He was shamed
That we'd be pardoned
Free from blame
You know it's righteous
You know it's true
If you're broken
Love's the glue

He's lost his home
He has no car
He takes the bus
From bar to bar
He's lost his wife
He's lost his friends
The bottle's bottom
Never ends
She's on chemo
Lost her hair
She's so gaunt
That people stare
She has no family
Lost her breast
But there are arms
Where she can rest...

[Chorus]

BRIDGE:
Bruised and battered
Whipped and flayed
He could have left
Before He paid
The final price
For me and you
Jesus heals...

*LOVE'S THE GLUE

Lucifer, Lucifer
Black, rotting mind,
How can you live
With the lies that you wind?

Lucifer, Lucifer
You claim to destroy
But need God's permission
For what you deploy.

Black Lily of old,
Wrecker of worlds,
Mover of mountains,
Oil slick pearl,

The whorls on your forehead,
The horns on your head,
The eyes in your hands
As you dress your dead.

You desolate valleys
You eat up the land,
You grind a man's bones
To Sahara sand.

In my eye a beam
In your eye a mote,
The rampant *****
Of a rutting goat.

They grow in your belly
The flies that you spawn,
Maggots in multitudes
10 trillion strong.

Yes, out they spew
Through your spittle and teeth,
The lies propigated
From way underneith.

O, putrid rose,
Who has duplicate skill
To create "beauty"
To dazzle man's will.

But nothing you "make"
Is good on this earth,
No, nothing you "make"
Has any WORTH.

O, blighted star,
Constellation of hate,
Galaxy ghoul
Your strength is FINITE.

Who runs the show,
You aborted SOW?
When all's said and done
To whom will you BOW?

More sooner than late
Your end will come
In the pit ALONE.
With no one to ***.

Who'll put you there,
Bound in your chains?
Why! GOD! Of course...

... for Jesus Christ REIGNS.


Soul Survivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) February 2014

My father has a lump on the right side of his face. I noticed it this morning after I posted my last poem. The lump is where his cancer used to be.

I cannot be on the site right now. I'm sure you understand.

I'm not letting this get me down. He was healed of cancer before through prayer... There is no reason why that couldn't happen again!


All your prayers and good thoughts are appreciated!

♡ Catherine

I am a soil
Which has no inhalation.

I am an exhale
Waiting for breath

I am twigs
Drenched in dew.

I am stones
A skull. Death.

But I will live in a
green thatch again.

I have what
It needs.

I have the sun
And rain

I just need seed.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022

---O---
^^---^^/\^/--^

the winter Sun is birthed
between the knees of the hills
crying and smitten by the morning star

alone, it makes its cold way
through grey skies
an albatross of tarnished silver
bland and unimpressed by the
roiling cloud cover

it will peek its way out at times

traversing the frigid sea of sky
it finally drowns with a whimper in the
maw of the mountains

to be reborn... made glorious summer...
in the Antipodes


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/5/2015

Across the water he skates with feet of clay. Frigid eels in his veins, they slither under his skin. His blood is volcanic ice. His forehead is an avalanche. His eyes are frozen atolls. His soul is made of liquid nitrogen. Dancing, he's the creature 10000 Leagues Under the Sea. At rest the iceberg that wrecked the Titanic. Don't come near him ladies. He comes off as a nice little cuttlefish. But he will lash out with his whip pads, ****** you into his ***** beak, and glomb on with every sucker he owns.
He's a real masher, the Disco Slasher, Mr Goodbar X 10. Comes off as a "Nice Guy".
Comes off as a "Friend". But watch out for his Frozen tentacles. They will be your END.


SoulSurvivor
(c) 3/10/2016

A tale of Scientology and the
Mental Health System

I'm going to tell a tragic tale
A writ of pain and woe.
I've been to places, reader,
Where folk seldom go.
I'm "insane", I will confess
The "doctors" told me so
But I have art
and HAVE a HEART
This I intend to *SHOW

I am *going to write this

BECAUSE FOLKS NEED TO KNOW!!!

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


What you are about to read *will shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "******-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features.
I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests.

It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. I AM NOT A LUNATIC! What you are about to read really happened. To ME. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it.

So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? What has she done? I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe...

*The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

BACKGROUND

I was born Catherine Eugenia Jarvis,  and I was a *horrible child. The kinda kid that you'd LOOK for if she got lost... but NOT very hard. I was the sandwich child. The red headed one. The BAD girl. A terrible tease.

But inside I SO longed to be loved. There just wasn't alot of that to go 'round. Mom was working or sick. And dad worked LONG hours. My sister and I were ***** at age 4 & 3 respectively. She felt guilty she couldn't "protect" me, so she withdrew. Then my little brother was born. He was my sister's little doll. And it wounded me so that I lashed out. I targeted my poor little brother. I called him names, names that I knew went straight to his HEART. I'm weeping now. How I wish I could change the past! Dear reader, I have a samurai tongue. And I knew how to cut where it would hurt the MOST. A fact I'm not at all proud of! But, it happened. I was also mean to my pets. But inside i wept SO bitterly! I did not want to do what I did! But SOMETHING compelled me...

Then at the age of 13 I began to drink. I started using "white crosses". ***. By 14 I was using LSD. ***. Peyote. I was SO out of control!  My poor parents despaired...

Then... a MIRACLE! My parents put me in college when I was 16. I hated high school with a PASSION. I didn't fit in anywhere. Not even with the stoners. I was kicked out of my 10th year for ditching and possession of marijuana. My vice-principle told me I'd always be a LOSER. That I'd never accomplish anything in life. Nice. He put me in Juvie. My parents got a psychologist. He said I was bored in high school because I was too smart. So they put me in college. I THRIVED! I still ditched a bit, but I could take ART CLASSES! And WRITING! POETRY! And MUSIC! And the people were SO different! They LIKED ME! Well. Part of THAT was because I lost weight. About 50 lbs! I was actually pretty. For the first time in my life. And to say THAT was confusing wouldn't be nearly enough.

At any rate, I'd CHANGED. I became very spiritual. I read about Transcendental Meditation. I read the book "Siddhartha". I dabbled in the Self Realization Fellowship.
And, finally, I joined the

"Church" of Scientology.

THE WORST MISTAKE OF MY YOUNG LIFE

I was 19 years old.

A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection

SEEKER

Now I can hear you saying to yourselves,
"So. You said you were smart. Why did you get involved with a crazy cult like Scientology?"* Well. Two reasons. 1) I was raised an atheist (Humanist), but had a seeker's soul. I became very spiritual, like I said. I also had a desire to HELP people. Humanity. I still do. But because I had a godless upbringing I was left open to deception. And 2) I found a boyfriend. Or, I should say, he found me. One of Scientology's tried and true methods of recruitment.

I had another friend, a ***** Jewish scientologist (yes, there can be that sort of thing, as you can be "any faith" and still be a scientologist... hmph!). She introduced us. I was impressed by two things. He was an instructor at the "Mission". And he could tell you things that seemed psychic. One of the procedures for impressing people to sign up for classes and "processing" was this. Doug would position you in a certain part of the room. He'd have his back to you. Then he'd tell you to walk away from him... then stop abruptly.
He'd be able to tell you when you stopped! And he could do it every time! This really impressed me. Until I found out he looked into the reflective surface of a large glass covered poster that was on the wall! Lol! What a con artistic magician HE was! HA!

I was totally gone over by the registrar (salesperson). She stuck to me like glue until she FINALLY figured out, Yes! I had NO MONEY! So I didn't get any training or processing. Which was a BIG part of why I stuck around. I didn't even read "Dianetics" by L Ron Hubbard. Doug told me a little about it. But most of his energy was expended trying to get in my pants... a fruitless endeavor to say the least!

He was instrumental in getting me up to Phoenix for the fateful "Flag Orientation Tour". The recruitment campaign which would change my life forever...

*Where I signed my life over to Scientology's Sea Organization for the next BILLION YEARS.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

THE BILLION YEAR CONTRACT

So I had this boyfriend. I don't really know *why I stayed with him. Except that he was fairly intelligent. He left scientology not longer after I left, I discovered later. But, truth be told, he was NOT attractive to me. He had a lisp. THAT wouldn't have bothered me so much, but he couldn't dance either.... LOL! That was, for some reason, important to me in a man. Always has been. He also had a jaw like a steamshovel and eyes like poached eggs. Oh, well...

Anyway,  he was very excited about a do that was happening up in Phoenix!  There was a brand new ORG!  Scientologese for organization, especially a high echelon one. This Org was the TOP at that time! The Flag Land Base! Located in a once-glamorous resort town, Clearwater, Florida. A place of sugar sand beaches and tropical beauty! There was an Orientation going on, and he wanted me to go with him...

That was the most Fateful night of my life. This FOT (Flag Orientation Tour) was actually a recruitment drive. For the infamous Sea Organization!

When I arrived I was impressed. It was in a conference room at a nice hotel. All the materials they handed me were slickly printed. The only thing that bugged me were the uniforms. The folk not in suit jackets even wore lanyards! That warning sign in my stomach should have told me.... RUN!!! AS FAST AND FAR AS YOU CAN!!! But did I listen? NO! And that was a mistake that cost me 24 precious years of my life. Golden years. Years I could have been in school. College and university. Instead I worked as a peon slave for that CULT. Then 20 years stolen by virulent targeting. TRAGIC!

I stayed. And I was lulled into a false sense of security. The speeches by the various "big-wigs" of FLB didn't start till 9 PM. And lasted till 10:30! Their voices were stern yet sonorous. Hypnotic. They told of the importance and "nobility" of the Sea Org. And the very PINNACLE of importance was the Flag Land Base! in balmy and beautiful Clearwater! Where the BEST and most RESPECTED "auditors" and "trainers" took the adherents of Scientology to the most advanced stage of spiritual growth... OT VIII. SCIENTOLOGY WORKS! YES! YOU, TOO, CAN REACH NIRVANA!

What a bunch of HORSESH-T!!!

Anyway. These guys and gals began to look glamorous to me! With their uniforms and scrambled eggs on their hats...

Then the real kicker. "THEY WERE OUT TO CLEAR THE PLANET. And little miss Cathy Jarvis could be a PART of this Noble Cause. That was it. I bought it. Hook. Line. And SINKER.

Even the hard, pockmarked face of the recruitment officer, nor her beady black eyes, could deter me. I was sleepy by that time, and hardly noticed the Contract I signed was for A BILLION YEARS...

I could LEAVE the "Podunk" town I lived in. Go first to spectacular LOS ANGELES... then to...

*... A NEW LIFE in balmy CLEARWATER FLORIDA!!!

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

THE CAUSEWAY

By the time I got to Tampa Florida I was so weary that I was stumbling off my feet. I hadn't had any proper sleep in 4 days. My bones felt as if they had eaten a cancer. I can't remember sitting and waiting for motor pool to pick me up from the bus station. I must have been sleeping on my bags. Not that there were that many of them. I had very little clothing or toiletries. In fact I believe all that I owned was in one tiny suitcase and a carry-on duffle.

I don't remember the name of the man who picked me up that day. We'll just call him Noah. And the white van that traversed the Courtney Campbell Causeway carrying State Road 60 from Tampa to Clearwater? We'll just call that The Ark. Because we were about to meet a *deluge...

The first part of the trip I was nervous. It was raining and extremely windy. I remember asking Noah if we could wait for the storm to pass. He told me that he was under orders to get me to the Fort Harrison within a certain time frame. He would meet those orders come hell or high water. He didn't actually say that but that is what he meant. And that, my friends, is what we got!

The first part of the causeway appeared to be wide. It had palm trees on either side and some greenery. But at a certain point all it was was some roadway perched upon pylons. The engineers had started construction of the causeway in 1927. It was a total of 52,165' long. And, brother, I was feeling EVERY INCH!!!

The wind was blowing so hard that the rain was almost at a horizontal slant. The waves worse. They were spilling over the roadway and frothing. There was no one on the road of course. Nobody else would have been crazy enough to go out in that storm over that Causeway. But Noah had his orders, by God. And he was going to carry them out. That's how brainwashed and insane some scientologists are. Especially in the Sea Organization. Failure to follow "Command Intention" could be seen as grounds for the RPF. More on that horror later.

Well. I remembered Elsie. How she said the Lord Jesus Christ answered prayer. She'd told me that if you confessed your sins with a pure & contrite heart and asked anything of him, he would grant them. That's just what I did. I recall closing my eyes and talking to a man. I didn't know Him. But I told him I was sorry. And if he'd just get us to our destination safely I promised I'd try to be a better person...

Noah was terrified. I can still see his face locked in a rictus of fear. But now I felt strangely calm. Even when we hydroplaned over the asphalt I wasn't afraid. Finally we arrived at the end of that terrifying strip of water and wind. I don't recall exactly. But I believe Noah stopped the van and wept. For the first time in my life I thanked God. I recognized the event for what it was... A PURE MIRACLE.

*AND I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER IT AS SUCH.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

HIGHWAY TO HELL

It took several weeks for me to get my act together to go to LA. The first thing I had to do was find a ride. Fortunately (or, as some would say, *unfortunately) there was someone in the Mission in my hometown who had also been recruited. He was to be stationed in LA permanently. He offered to give me a ride with him. So I packed my bags, and off I went to see the Wizard. But it sure didn't turn out to be no yellow brick road...

First of all, this guy had a bad temper. He seemed to go off at the least little thing. I really didn't like him very much. He didn't mind me, really. He was just like that. A man with long sandy brown hair, a light beard on his gaunt face, which was permanently set in a sour expression. He didn't want to stop for food. So we brought our own vittles and sodas. He didn't even want to stop at the rest area so we could eat. He just wanted to go go go...

Now, I told this guy that I couldn't drive. From the very beginning of the trip he knew this. I was 19 years old and I had only driven once before in my life. And it had been a really horrendous experience. I had been out in the boonies learning to drive with my boyfriend. In a rainstorm. And the roads had gotten flooded... Along with the car. We were stalled for about an hour, with wet brakes, and water everywhere. Well, this guy was  inexperienced, too. And after we were able to start up again, HE PUT ME BEHIND THE WHEEL ONCE MORE! It seemed like it would be okay. I drove for a few miles and everything was hunky-dory. But then I approached a T intersection... there were two cars approaching my vehicle! Not only that but there was a stop sign. I applied the brake. NOTHING! That Pinto WOULD NOT STOP! I had NO TIME TO PUMP THE BRAKES EITHER! So I put on the accelerator full blast! If I had not done that I would have been T-***** by both those cars! So I was going about 35 miles per hour across the road through a barb wire fence! And into the weeds! I then fishtailed the car until it stopped. There were two Cowpoke's standing outside of the grocery store that was at the T intersection. Doubled over with hilarity! They saw me fishtailing and shouted out, "YEEE HAAAW!" Not a stellar experience. Therefore I was a nervous driver...

So halfway through this road trip to LA this dude got tired. He wanted me to drive. I told him I couldn't drive, and that I had told them from the very outset that I could not. He got furious! "I'm not stopping at a rest stop and sleeping!" He insisted that I drive. "It's a straightforward highway! No rocket science!" So, much to my chagrin, I got behind the wheel.

I already knew the basics. But there were a lot of things I didn't know, as I was to discover. It was actually fun! I played the radio real low so he could sleep. Lynyrd Skynyrd. The Eagles. Santana. The miles rolled on. Then I looked at the gas gauge...

we were nearly on EMPTY!

Well, I tried to wake this guy up. He seemed to be like a dead man. Except that he snored like a steam shovel! He would not respond to any of my shouts and prodding. Then... A miracle! A gas station, by God! And on my side of the road, TOO!

I went to pull off. After all, how hard could that be? I slow the car down to take it down the off-ramp. But the car, of course, accelerated on its own due to gravity...
Nervous as I could be, I hit the accelerator instead of the brake... we went through that gas station doing 40 miles an hour!!! Nearly hitting a gas pump and a PAPER BOY on his BICYCLE!!! I've never heard such navy blue language coming from a youngster in my life!

THAT woke the dude up. He put his foot on mine and slammed on the brakes... bringing all our LUGGAGE in the BACK SEAT UP to HIT US BOTH UPSIDE THE HEAD!!

I've never seen a man as enraged as that guy was. He was puce with trembling FURY!! needless to say, I didn't drive again. And he was a LEADFOOT Bigfoot, yelling at me at every opportunity, for the rest of the trip to Los Angeles.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

WONDERLAND: THE FLATTENED APPLE

Someone told me once Los Angeles was the Flattened Apple. You take New York City and squish it down like a pancake and you've got Los Angeles. Someone else told me that the Big Apple is full of worms. Well. If Los Angeles is any indication, that statement goes well beyond *truth.

There are parts of LA that are quite beautiful. The parts the wealthy live in. But that was sure not the part I was living in. My first station in the Sea Organization was on Hollywood Boulevard.

My first real memory of Hollywood was viewing the nightcrawlers. The tacky, ****** prostitutes of both sexes on the corners. The Street Preachers looking only a half step above the subjects of their ardent sermons. I had never had any real encounters with homeless people where I was from. Hollywood was a magnet for them it seemed. Their hair askew, and shopping carts with stuttering wheels de rigueur. The touristas. Japanese with their ubiquitous cameras. The Midwestern jons seeking the hookers (of both sexes). The stars on the Hollywood sidewalks seemed to have fallen from the smoggy sky, to lie tarnished amongst the refuse, inanimate and human. It was like a sledge to the chest... and broke my HEART.

I was given some worn, old-smelling sheets, and the address of the place I was to be sleeping for the next few weeks. It turned out to be a flop-house. At first I thought there had been a mistake. But I was not the only SO member to be entering. I went to my room... so small you had to go out into the hall to change your mind. The toilets were communal and up the hallway. My sleeping arrangement? A twin-style matress on the floor. No other "furniture" graced the room....

... **WELCOME TO *"CHURCH".

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE...
AND NOT A* THING TO READ!

The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals!
He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR.
ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS.

Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative.

But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world...

MARILYN.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


MARILYN

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes... driving every man mad... (dark) as the dark night she was... had what no one else had..."
BANANARAMA "Venus"

Upon first meeting with Marilyn the first thing I was struck by were her eyes. If the eyes are the windows of the soul, hers were the stained glass of Winchester Cathedral. They were absolutely beautiful. Polished obsidion orbs that seemed to have an inner light for all their blackness. The second thing I noticed were her teeth. Strong. Perfectly even, and glistening white. Lastly her height and *figure. Again, I shall use the Winchester Cathedral metaphor... she was positively that... not just a brick house, she was marble! Cantilevered, with flying buttresses everywhere! WOW!

Now, I'm not a lesbian. But if I were, Marilyn would have been in trouble! I was to notice flaws in her looks as time went on. Her thick, shiny raven hair was poorly cut, and her face, while striking, was not all that beautiful. Her features were even and well proportioned, but she was not a classic beauty.  She was of arabic/caucasian liniage. If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I noticed these imperfections because I was somewhat envious. She was a man-magnet. Ms Pac-Man! I'm not an ugly woman. But I couldn't hold a candle to Marilyn!

As fate would have it, I became her "twin". We were on the buddy system at the beginning of our Sea Org training, and I was paired up with Marilyn. As luck would have it, we hit it off. Even though I felt like a shadow next to her light, I also really liked her. And she liked ME. She never lorded her looks over me. Her brilliant smile could melt the stoniest heart. And we enjoyed the same things. Though she was no artist, she really appreciated art. I actually drew her portrait (which she kept and framed, she told me many years later). We would take long walks around the Hollywood area, and, when time allowed, went to the beach. Santa Monica Pier. She had a droll sense of humor which i could appreciate, and i made her laugh, too. We got along very well.

Our Mission, should we decide to accept it (or NOT), was to write letters to people who had, at one time, been interested in scientology, or the Sea Org (not necessarily in that order). We were told that we to up our "statistics" daily. All jobs were measured statistically. Now, even at THAT age, I knew the Samuel Clemmons quote, "There are lies. **** lies. And statistics." But i thought it prudent not to mention that to anyone.

So, we were to write letters. We worked out a system for staying "upstat". We figured if we wrote LONG letters, and took breaks at first, then wrote shorter letters as time went on we could "beat the system". So we did. We never competed with each other. I was slightly faster than she (I'm a writer, obviously) but she didn't care. I could write. But she could spell. I was never good at that (I HAVE autocorrect on my phone, lol!).

Our I/C (in charge) never really bothered us. We were "upstat". So we joked around and had fun with it. We were allowed to go out and have a little time off occasionally.
I remember going to see the first STAR WARS movie with Marilyn and another dude who was totally smitten with her. She didn't even feign interest, even if he WAS very funny, and good looking in a diminutive way. But he was around her in a holding patern! Like a hummingbird to a honeysuckle! Shaharizade had mesmerized him with her seven veils! But the poor man never got anywhere. So he started to evince interest in me! But got nowhere in that arena either! Poor dude! So, that's how it worked. Marilyn would draw masculine attention. And, eventually, I would be "second pick". Oh, well. I knew better than to "get involved". There was a strict rule about "fratenization". A polite term for ***". THAT was VERBOTEN! It was grounds for RPF, should the partners be unmarried. And since I had NO desire to marry any of them, those dudes were out o luck.

Time went on. FRU  (Flag Recruit Unit) didn't seem so bad! And then there was the lure of my final destination. Flag Land Base... Finally I was ready to take my

...*1,300 mile Greyhound bus!

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

GILDED CAGE

Unlike the pampered, well heeled clients of my "faith", I didn't enter the Fort Harrison Hotel via the opulent main entrance. I made my appearance through the back. The garage entrance was less than hospitable. And, I noticed, there seemed to be people *living in the cold, drafty motor housing! When I asked about this strange berthing, Noah was much less than forthcoming. "RPF", he mumbled. Well. What's an RPF when it's at home? Then I saw a few of the denizens of said "RPF". I knew very little about it. Only that it was punishment. For people were "out-ethics". WOW. The RPF "sleeping quarters" had bunks three high, and was protected only marginally from the winds that swept through that garage.

There was an RPF person who was coming through the breezeway as I entered. He stepped aside very deferentialy, and said, "Excuse me, Sirs!" to Noah and I. WOW. I'd never had THAT kind of treatment in my life! I guess I was someone important! This bubble was burst immediately. I met the I/C of the FRU.

She was not in a good mood, as I recall. But, then, who ever really was in this Organization? She DID TRY to be nice. Greeted me clammily, and put on a spurious smile. She recognized I needed sleep, at least. Upon walking through the building, the rooms got more and more posh. I was to get to my berthing through the hotel lobby, apparently. It was grand! But in a sort of an outdated way. I really don't remember much else. Except for the conditions in my sleeping quarters. Only marginally better than the RPF! bunks three high! Junk everywhere (some of the new recruits had yet to figure out that they should cull their possessions to a minimum). Guess who was designated the top bunk? You got it. And moi was not a happy camper! As I climbed the rickety ladder to the top bunk I remember thinking, "How much lower can a person go?"

*I WAS, EVENTUALLY, TO FIND OUT.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

I WOKE UP IN HELL

I must've slept a good four hours before I was awoken by a peal of crazy laughter. The other girls had gotten up, and were not at ALL respectful of the fact that I'd arrived only hours ago, and needed a full nights sleep. There were nine of us in that room... the size of a small motel room. And one mirror. One sink. *ONE TOILET. IT WAS INSANE.

The cackle was emanating from a bleached blonde who's face was reminiscent of a Proboscis monkey. "How'm ah gonna bleach mah hayah?! She asked, querrilously. Her drawl was purposely drawn out and irritating. She pulled at the lifeless black & white reverse skunk fur on her head. Then announced that she needed to dye her ***** hair, too! except she put it with such vulgarity I blushed.

"SHUT UP!" Shouted a girl with eyes flared open so wide you could see the whites completely around the irises as black as olives. This female was to become my worst enemy. But right now I seconded her sentiment profoundly. And said so. Her eyes snapped my direction and narrowed. She didn't like me from the jump. Some women are like that. And there is no appeasing them. The other girls I got along with. But not her. NEVER her.

The blonde stormed from the tiny room, shooting me such a poisonous look that I felt the acid spray my face. Cheers went up from several of my roommates. But black-eyes just turned a shoulder as cold as liquid nitrogen.

"Serious. How do we bathe? I asked. The shower was, evidently, broken.

"There's showers by the pool area," replied a pretty, albeit rather pear shaped girl. She was stuffed into a blouse & skirt which appeared 2 sizes too small. "C'mon. I'll show you..."

We left the mildewed room, the lazer beams of black-eye boring into my back...

*I HAD JUST MADE A DANGEROUS ENEMY, WITHOUT KNOWING HOW OR WHY.