Mirror Ofmy Mind
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MIRROR OF MY MIND MARLENE AGUILAR Contents Chapter 1. My Greatest Mentor ........................................................... 1 Chapter 2. The Academe .................................................................... 71 Chapter 3. Tea Parties and the US of M ........................................... 158 Chapter 4. Great Mother of All ........................................................ 219 Chapter 5. Kill the Government ....................................................... 317 Chapter 6. My God is I ................................................................... 393 I Will March ................................................................................ 404 iii Chapter 1 My Greatest Mentor My very first encounter with an adult man was founded by love and hate. It was initiated by betrayal and treachery. The very same man, who was supposed to love and protect me had instead harmed me, betrayed me and terrorized me. I encountered a terrorist at a very young age. That terrorist was my father. What happens to a little girl when she grows up with a man like that? What happens to children who grow up with parents like that? You would never know unless you suffered the same fate. What is your first memory? Have you ever asked yourself that crucial question? They say that your most paramount memories will affect you the rest of your life. So what is your first memory? How did this world welcome you? I will tell you mine. I remember lying on the floor in our humble home in Santa Mesa, Manila. I was sweating, shaking and kicking. I remember crying and screaming hysterically. “I will kill you!” I heard the monster yell at me, his voice sounded like doom. I gasped for air repeatedly, desperately struggling for life. I looked up above me and saw my father. His wild eyes flared against mine. 1 MARLENE AGUILAR My eyes were filled with rage and fire just like his. I loathed him. I loathed him so. I felt nothing but hatred for him as he stared down at me like a vicious animal threatening to murder me. In the blink of an eye, I felt his right foot against my neck. I held my breath with my mouth wide open. I continued to stare at him, while tears covered my cheeks. I wanted to kill him. Right then and there, I wanted to kill him. Then I felt I was running out of air. I couldn’t breath. It was during that very moment I knew how fragile life is. How frail mortals are. It was during that same corner of time I realized my life rested on a very thin thread of air. I was dying. Life was leaving me, because my father was killing me. I stopped kicking and screaming. I was too weak to do anything. My body had been defeated. Still, I continued to stare back at him. He lifted his foot releasing my neck. I gulped for air as fast as I could. Then I gasped for air some more. Life returned to me. I kept my eyes fixated upon my predator while a fresh batch of tears fell from my eyes soaking my face. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I just stared at my father, the one true evil in my life. In my mind, I chanted for his death on and on and on. He pressed his foot against my neck once more. “Obey me or I will kill you!” he shouted again. That is my first memory. I was three. My father broke me into many pieces to welcome me into this world. My psyche split into several, distinct personalities. Medea and Maya were separated as two opposite forces. Medea was forged out of infinite darkness and evil, while Maya was forged out of infinite lightness and good. Medea split into three personas giving life to Meilee, my warrior personality and Mariana, the sexual fiend. Maya did the same, giving life to Maria, the mother in me, and Molly, the child in me. Marlene commands them with the guidance 2 MIRROR OF MIND of M, my spiritual being who is directly connected to my soul and all that is beyond. This complex that was and still is me put my father into a situation he couldn’t possibly fathom. How could he? How could he handle the three year old me when I had divided into several personas? Imagine eight personalities mutating into different combinations. Mathematically, the potential assortment is astounding. He could never assault me as one person. He could only assault the person I decided to throw into the arena. Unknown to my father, he confronted an army of people inside me. Gender is no issue. My personalities defy the feminine and masculine gender. They use these tools as they please. Most of the time, I felt it was Meilee who was best suited to deal with my father’s madness. Meilee, the warrior in me has never lost a battle in her life. Why should she ever face defeat when the idea has never crossed her mind? My father and I engaged in a battle I couldn’t win physically. I was tiny. He was a giant. Nonetheless, I drove my father insane. That was the price he paid for harming me physically. I drove him further into insanity. During our fights, there were times I drove him screaming out of the house. These were the days I decided to stare at him coldly while he beat me. He couldn’t stand my indifference. He couldn’t stand my silent scream and sheer defiance. My catatonic state was my best defense against his senseless theatrics. I was supposed to be afraid of him. But I wasn’t afraid of him. How could I be? My hatred for him was so intense it surpassed any other feeling I had for him. “Stop staring at me with those evil eyes!” he’d yell at me. Then he would hit me. I just stared back at him unmoved. “I was cursed when you were born! That’s why lightening came. That’s why lightning hit our home!” 3 MARLENE AGUILAR “Your birth was a bad omen! That’s why bad things started happening to me when you were born. I used to be rich! Now I’m poor! You are my curse!” “You’re the child of hell, the child of evil! Stop staring at me with those eyes!” he’d yell again. Then he’d hit me some more. During times like this, my Lucifer remained in this matrix to deal with my father. Meanwhile, all my other personalities drifted off to wonderland. How could my father touch me during times like this? I wasn’t there. The best part of me wasn’t there with him. I was gone. It’s like robbing a house. How do you rob a house that is dark and empty? So he beat me until he was blue in the face. He beat me until his mind and body were drained. He beat me until he lost every fiber of sanity in his mind. Still I remained quiet and withdrawn. Still, I continued to stare at him with eyes beaming from Hades. And stared at him I did. My impassive behavior toward his rage drove him to the abyss, a place he couldn’t master. These days were crucial to my education in this realm. These were the days I learned to increase my threshold of pain as my father tormented my little body, the body of a little girl. These were also the very same days I learned to enjoy pain. Hence, my understanding of sadomasochism was stimulated. The more my father abused me physically, the stronger I became. He taught me how to endure pain. Eventually, he taught me to enjoy pain. He forced me to survive the extreme. He forced me to survive the unknown. He taught me how to dance with death. Unknown to him, his punishments became my rewards. Why? Because in the end, it was when he attacked me physically that I owned his mind. My poor father couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see that he was right about me. I am not only the child from hell. I am the devil. Medea is. But how could he possibly know for sure? He was just a man. 4 MIRROR OF MIND I exhausted my father mentally and emotionally. He didn’t tire me the way I consumed him. He didn’t exhaust me because as I said, unknown to him, inside me is an army of different personalities. He couldn’t handle me. Those close to me wonder why I consumed the men in my life. The answer is very simple. All the men in my life have been terribly outnumbered by my mutating personalities. Think about it. Imagine all of my characters consuming one man. As Gabriel said, “To confront me is to confront the unknown. However, one unknown leads to other unknowns.” Would I change anything about my tortured childhood? No. If I could go back in time, would I change anything about my father? No, absolutely not. I prefer him exactly the way he was. He was the perfect father for a child like me. And he empowered me with courage most men wouldn’t imagine. I realize some of you wouldn’t understand this. But I admire my father beyond words. He taught me that love and hate co-exist. He taught me that if I were to love a man, I should love him despite himself. Moreover, I know that my father was crucial in forging me into the person I am today. He succeeded in teaching me that wars are not won by muscle power. Wars are won by mind and spirit.