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started to see a pattern in this ability. Memories of the obvious psychic incidents were not completely wiped out but instead fabricated with other things. Whenever I tried to recall certain incidents, a haze would wash over, allowing everything to become distorted. The moving objects became manifestations of clumsiness; the mutual dreaming was just the product of something my fiancé and I had previously seen; and the event with the female co-worker who claimed to have psychic abilities was no more than a coincidence. Ingeniously engineered rubbish! As feeble as these explanations had become and as often as they had failed to convince me, there were times when they would consume me like horrible realisations. There were so many times when I would accept the denial and try to get on with my life. Other times, the reality of the events screamed through and begged for investigation. These were the times that the Programmers seemed to fear most and they were now about to take a further measure to eradicate these ideas indefinitely, even if that meant approaching me in physical form. If these entities had managed to nest in my mind or have always been there, I was at last developing an intuition to know of their presence and their motives. It was as if this telepathic link I had with them was starting to work both ways, I could now feel their anxiousness, their mutual decisions about what action to take. The time had come where something radical was about to take place, although I couldn’t be certain what. I knew from my actions and personal behaviour that something was brewing and I was somehow being prepared for it. Why had I suddenly taken to isolated places like national parks? I found myself regularly visiting the most remote places and feeling a desire to be far away from crowds, from being visible. This was strange behaviour even for a natural loner because it wasn’t the kind of privacy I normally chose. In fact, going to these places didn’t feel like a compulsion of my own. I would find myself standing in the middle of a field afterwards wondering why. All I would remember was this strong desire to be away from it all, to become ensconced totally in nature and to enjoy the oneness with everything around me. As much as I appreciated natural beauty, I never really cared for it to the extent of desiring this type of isolation. Something pulled the strings to my new found passions and I was well aware of it. Questioning or arguing with the string pullers was just not a part of the equation; it would be like trying to maintain control within the deepest dream. I would always wonder how long and to what extent this has been going on. Were they the reason for my lifelong tendencies to be a private person? It is said that loneliness is a 37