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maladjusted life that I had secretly feared. School may have been behind me forever, but that unforgettable label of “hopeless dreamer” from my school reports had prevailed. I would remain for a very long time without a direction. Halfway through my twenties I remained without a clue of who I really was or what I was cut out for. The crazy mind full of bizarre activity had never truly been addressed as I had only accepted the flippant diagnosis others had given me. The only reassurance I harboured was the deep suspicion of being selected, being prepared for some great task. No logic I had could explain it. There was nothing to support the belief. My future seemed vacant and my purpose was like putty in the hands of others who were quite out of reach for human evidence. There were those who truly had me where they wanted me and it wouldn’t be until a later stage, after a series of bizarre interactive experiences, that an explanation would finally loom. 24