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This alternative set of rules embedded in my mind appeared to have a particular theme to them that did not come from my culture. My fascination with stage magic and conjuring had come from my parent’s practical trades, l assumed. From an early age I had wanted to be a stage magician and would often practice and play out the scenes in my bedroom. Again I would have preconceived ideas about how it should be done and what to expect. During these fantasy scenes I would be accompanied by a team of magical dwarfs who acted as my helpers and I would possess a metallic box that lead to a secret dimension. This was where all the conjuring would take place, the gateway to the ethereal world of spirits and goblins. The vagueness I had about what to expect during my sessions of magic would often lead to frustration. Why didn’t that just vanish and appear elsewhere? I’m sure I’ve seen it done somewhere. When I tried to process where it was that I’d seen it, my head would burn as if I approached a forbidden boundary. I knew that somewhere these tricks were performed using tools far more sophisticated than the plastic toys I had. Somewhere existed a world so strange that a mental taboo would crop up just by wondering about it. Looking back, the fixations of my young mind appeared to have a pattern that was etched partly in what we know as folklore. There were cloaked beings that possessed the power of magic. This would explain my early fascination with the mystique of monks because that is what they dressed like. These beings carried out ceremonies that appeared slightly like the woodland solaces of Wicca people and not unlike the Masonic rituals of today. These “monks” would be accompanied by Troll-like people who were dressed the same only they were like assistants. What these ceremonies were for was something I could never fathom. All of this remained as information etched in my mind about things that I believed existed, not necessarily something that actually involved me. Or at least I didn’t think it did. For me it was just knowledge without a source and questioning its source would cause it to evaporate just like a fading déja vu, the intricate work of “programmers.” They say that a little information is dangerous, which is why I learned to keep quiet about these beliefs early on. If you cannot explain how you know something then you really haven’t a leg to stand on. Evidence is the factor that is seriously lacking in these occurrences. In the event where my mind was allowed the capacity to question the scenarios, I would always come to the conclusion of dreams. That was it, 15