The Source

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  • Format: Paperback
  • Copyright: 2012-10-03
  • Publisher: Author Solutions

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What if you were to discover that Darwin's theory of evolution is bunk, and that creationism is closer to reality, but not in any way or manner that the creationists would approve? What if you knew that all religions stem from the same source, and that source didn't deify a single living person? What if you learned that all civilizations, societies--secret and otherwise--derive from that same single source? And suppose that source was not of this Earth? Can you contemplate the prospect that everything derives from one single solitary source that is not of this planet; that we are all descendants from the stars? That we are all descendants from aliens? Read on--if you dare!!


Have you ever been scared? I mean really scared? Heart palpitations. Profuse sweating. Not able to eat, or keep anything down? More and more hair finding its way onto your comb or brush? Muscles in your back and neck wound tighter than a drum? Difficulty standing? Difficulty sitting? Finding life itself unbearable? Wanting to just crawl in bed, pull the covers over your head and hide from the world? I'm there; and have been there for far too long now. The decision to reveal the reason for my anguish and horror only added to my anxiety--no, that's too nice a word for it. To my shock and horror. It's not just being scared; it's being terrified. There are many words to describe what's going through me now: alarm, anxiety, dread, fear, trembling, fright, horror, panic, shock. They all apply; and ones that conjure up mind-numbing paralysis. They all apply to me now. The inner struggle is real and I'm barely able to control myself. My nerves are just about shot; at least, I'm trying to convince myself that I haven't gone completely and permanently over the edge. I keep telling myself I'm not crazy, but maybe I've become crazy enough not to be able to really know. But I need to stay composed, focused. Although I believe my life is at risk, I can't continue to keep to myself what I now know. I want this to be a game; a strange, silly hoax that will just go away once the perpetrator admits to the play. But who am I kidding? What has been going on is so different and so stark that while I cling to the notion that this is some kind of weird prank, if this isn't, then my fear is well-founded, and I must act or I will surely be driven mad. I'm probably headed that way anyway. Maybe I'm already there. Whether I am or not, though, makes no difference to you. It's what I know from what I've read that matters.

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