Diary of a Human Target [From the Beginning to the End] by Isidora Vey - HTML preview

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Does he really have exceptional psychic powers?

Saturday, 24th February 1996

One of the positive aspects of the Janus case is that I have found

my good old friends, Aphrodite and Theano, again. We

occasionally meet at Aphrodite's, just like we used to some years

ago, and we revel in long, delightful conversations about our

favourite subjects: parapsychology, psychic experiences, lucid

dreaming and the like. I can say we still share a strong inner

relationship and we get along very well.

Nevertheless, I often suspect -from askance looks, certain

phrases, bored movements- that Aphrodite doesn't really like

such discussions. Besides, she is obviously more interested in

sex than metaphysics now. As she explained to me this evening,

when I visited her, during the three years we have been apart she

has gone steady with lots of men, until she ended up in a

yearlong relationship with a woman! Anyway, for the time being

she is single; she doesn't have any love affair of any kind...

Wednesday, 28th February 1996

I have arranged to meet Helen Tanagra this evening and

suggested we go to “Onar”, a wonderful cafeteria in

Argyroupolis: the decoration reminds of ancient Greece, as there

are white columns, sculpted pediments, earthen vessels, artificial

but life-like plants, supposed archaeological finds enclosed in

glass showcases on the floor, fine rock music, pleasant

ambiance.

However, as soon as we reach the threshold at 9:00 o' clock,

suddenly Helen stays still as if she were rooted to the spot. “I'm

not going in there, it's too dark!” she declares sharply. I try to

make her change her mind, assuring her that I have been in this

cafeteria before, that the environment is alright, that there is no

danger -in vain: Helen remains as solid as a rock. I have no other

alternative but run all the way to Vouliagmenis Avenue together

with her, wait for the bus to Glyfada and finally end up in a

colourless cafeteria of the common run.

Soon Helen proves to be boring and insecure, as she barely has

anything to say; in fact, every word has to be screwed out of her.

Moreover, she is always trying to prettify her public image

-rather awkwardly I'd say: Tonight, once again she told me she

has a love affair with a young man from Crete, yet they only

phone each other. She also trumpets forth that all men go crazy

about her, despite her 120 kilos, and that she has studied

microbiology ‒ yet, she has never set foot in the university. From

now on I will avoid going out with her only, as she is a

mollycoddle and she hardly talks...

Monday, 4th March 1996

For some months now I have been meeting Christina on the bus

to work every day. We always sit together and chat pleasantly as,

despite her young age, we have many common interests and we

keep good company to each other.

Especially this morning, she revealed to me many things about

herself: She is 23 years old, very sociable and popular, with a

large circle of friends! I talked to her about myself too, adding a

fib or two, that I also have many friends and that I often go out to

discos and clubs. She was impressed and she suggested my

joining her party! I accepted at once, full of joy. Then we

exchanged phone numbers and she told me she would talk to the

others about me. “Tomorrow morning I will let you know about

our next outing!” she concluded smiling and I was on cloud

nine! At last, I will start going out with a large, cheerful party of

young people, one of those I always envied but never had the

chance to approach -not even in a summer night dream, I

thought.

Tuesday, 5th March 1996

It is early in the morning and I am at the bus station, waiting

impatiently for Christina to turn up. However time goes by

slowly and she is nowhere to see. The bus is already leaving

when I see her arriving; she is running as fast as she can, yet she

misses the bus for two seconds! Maybe tomorrow, I hope.

... Nevertheless, I am never going to meet Christina again. For

some strange reason, she will never appear at the bus station

again. I will call her twice until the end of the month, I will

propose our going out together, she will promise to call me back,

but no; I will never see or hear from her again.

Doubts: Something very weird is going on under the surface of

reality. Everything looks like a foul play – but what part is mine

in all this performance? There are dark forces controlling our

existence (fate, nature, time, genes) and our lives (secret orders,

networks, institutions) with obscure purposes. I can't predict

everything, I can't escape from everything. It's time I got used to

the idea.

Neither can I believe all the rubbish propagandized by modern

cults, that there is a balance between Good and Evil in the

universe. On the contrary, it is crystal clear to me that Evil

prevails everywhere. For example, when an infant has an

accident and is paralyzed for the rest of his life, I can never

swallow the tale that “this event serves an invisible but good

purpose” or “his soul chose this because he needs this

experience”, or “he is punished for something bad he did in his

past life” and all that paranoiac piffle. Let's face the truth: The

world we live in is very far from perfect...

Deviations

Sunday, 10th March 1996

It's been about a month now that I've been friends with Diana,

whom I met in the gym. She is 26 years old, she has studied

French Literature, she is a successful sales manager in a big

company which trades in books, she gets a monthly salary of

240,000 drachmas, and she has a rich social life. In two words,

she is a normal person! I can hardly believe she and I have

become friends!

At first she makes a good impression to me, as she proves to be

an intelligent, interesting, dynamic person, entirely different

from all the other friends I've had so far. On the other hand, any

time I tell her about my problems at work, such as continuous

computer breakdowns, she jumps at the opportunity to belittle

and offend me: “But what are you, a nitwit? Don't you know

how to fix a system error by yourself?” … “What kind of

company is this you work for? I think your boss is a niggard!” …

“People who do office work are stupid!”

I began to suspect what's going on with her last night, when we

went out together and she revealed more details about her job:

As a sales manager, she controls some teams of commercial

travellers. Mostly they sell in Athens, but they also travel all over

Greece and sell books door to door.

“Peasants are very easy to handle: Before they know it, they are

persuaded to buy expensive encyclopedias, which they pay by

monthly installments!” Diana said complacently.

“How is this possible? As far as I know, people hardly open their

doors to travelling salesmen!” I retorted, but Diana was ready to

answer:

“People do open their doors and buy whatever they are told, if

the salesman knows his job!”

According to Diana, salesmen are superhuman beings, a lot

superior to the average person. Firstly, they attend some special

seminars which render them omnipotent speakers, able to

persuade anyone to do anything; moreover, they get exceptional

knowledge of psychology, so that they can control perfectly the

subconscious of a potential customer, making him or her buy

whatever they want, no matter how expensive or useless it is...

Tuesday, 19th March 1996

Like any time we go out together for a coffee, once again this

afternoon Diana is trumpeting forth how proud she is of her job.

She believes she is great at what she does and she likes bragging

about it: “A good sales manager, like me, is irreplaceable! Not

like all those stupid office clerks who are all disposable!”

Then, full of arrogance, she claims it is very easy for a travelling

salesman to earn as much as 600,000 drachmas per month,

whereas the basic salary of an office employee is no more than

140,000 drachmas. “They are losers, who stupidly make do with

140,000 drachmas a month; they are cyphers, all of them!” she

cries pompously and goes on with an air of profundity: “A

businessman wants to earn as much as possible, this is natural!

He will pay you as little as he can, unless you prove to him you

deserve to be given something more!” … “A clever businessman

will hire a secretary who will work for him for a month or so ' on

trial' , then he will tell her she is incompetent and he will fire her

without paying her a dime; then he will hire another stupid chick

who will work for him for another month without payment, then

another one will take her place, and so on, until he finds the one

who will satisfy him fully” harangues Diana, showing her

admiration for bosses.

When I tell her I earn no more than 160,000 drachmas per

month, she looks at me scornfully and says: “You work in the

production department, I work in the sales department -that's the

difference! There is only one kind of work that's worth the while

today, and this is sales!” she concludes triumphantly.

“Yes, but I work only six hours a day, whereas you work ten

hours and you aren't paid any overtime! If I worked so many

hours as you, I would earn more than 250,000 per month!” I

reply and she shuts up.

Tuesday, 26th March 1996

This afternoon I saw Diana at the gym, we had an aerobics

lesson and then, as we were leaving together, she revealed to me

some more interesting details about her job; in fact, she didn't

hesitate at all to describe -always with an air of importance- a

fixed fraud committed by the company she works for: It all starts

with an advertisement they place in the newspaper every week,

looking for new commercial travellers; they offer an alluring

basic salary, as well as commission on the sales, plus social

security.

“What if someone doesn't sell enough in a month?” I wonder.

“Every would-be salesman signs a contract which contains a

penal clause: If the salesman doesn't sell enough within the first

month of work, which is ' on trial'', they are not only fired

without being paid but they also have to pay 50,000 drachmas to

the company!” she explains with glowing eyes.

“Amazing! Maybe I could organize a trick like this so as to earn

some serious money!” I exclaim spontaneously.

“Our company offers you two weeks of free seminars!” snorts

Diana. “These lessons provide you with all the knowledge you

need so as to manipulate customers and sell books. If you don't

sell, it means you are a moron and the company has suffered a

loss by allowing you to participate in the seminars. So, they do

what's right: they fire you, they don't give you a dime and they

make you pay the penal clause!”

“What if someone refuses to pay?”

“If anyone dares oppose to us, our team of lawyers will take their

pants!”

“I bet the company earns more from penal clauses than from

book sales!” I conclude.

... That explains it: Lately I have heard about certain persons

who, though illiterate, have become successful travelling

salesmen and earn up to 700,000 drachmas per month! Taking

into account that a salesman's commission is no higher than

10%, how do they manage to make sales of 7,000,000 drachmas

every month? What do they really sell? Encyclopedias? Come on

now! Nowadays you can find cheap and voluminous

encyclopedias in bookstores or, even, on offer in newspapers!

Why would anyone pay dearly a commercial traveller? Unless

they sell other things, other ' services' , instead of books...

Tuesday, 11th June 1996

I barely go out with Diana anymore, I don't like her and she

doesn't like me; yet I still meet her at the gym. This afternoon

she looked distracted but triumphant, as she showed me two or

three circular bruises on her right hand; looking at them more

carefully, I saw they were bites.

“Did a dog bite you?” I asked her.

“No! It was a would-be saleswoman!” she answered, and I was

flabbergasted.

Then, with an air of importance, she narrated the whole story to

me: Yesterday morning a young woman came into Diana's office;

she aspired to become a professional commercial traveller, she

was beautiful and well-dressed, with a pleasant personality; in

two words, she looked suitable for the job. She also signed the

contract without reading the “small letters” -just like most

candidates do. However, as soon as she realized the fraud (too

late), she pounced on Diana and fought very hard to grab the

contract from her hands and tear it up -she even bit her!

Unfortunately for the girl, in the end she didn't manage to take

the contract from Diana's hands.

“Our lawyers are going to put her into very serious trouble!”

went on Diana, glowing with exhilaration. “I have already sued

her, because that imbecile bit a nerve on my hand and I can't

close it well now!” – humbug: there is nothing wrong with

Diana's hand. “I will ask her to make amends to me for this

injury, I can demand three million drachmas at least, our lawyers

say! Woo is her, who dared tangle with me!” Diana burst out, full

of anger.

“Will it be so simple? Won't she also hire a lawyer?”

“Nobody can confront the lawyers of our company!” Diana

exclaimed, obviously vexed. “Their main job is to take care of

all those nitwits who refuse to pay the penal clause!” While

shouting, she got even more exasperated: “My fair lady, you

were stupid enough to sign the contract! So, pay the fifty

thousand and let us be!” she screamed like a drama actress.

After we had left the gym, Diana stopped at a telephone booth so

as to phone her lawyer, as she told me. I stood at a distance and

waited, but she kept shouting – I guess on purpose, because she

wanted me to hear and envy her: “So, I can ask for even more

money... four million drachmas... maybe more! Fine, fine! Thank

you very much!” … “You see?” she smiled to me cunningly as

soon as she hung up. “That's why you must always have a lawyer

handy! Better yet, have not only one, but many! In this way, you

can make a lot of money from suckers! I am going to leave that

bitch penniless!” she concluded triumphantly.

“Why don't you send her to me too? I need some millions of

drachmas too!”

“But... but she won't make the same mistake again!” Diana

stuttered; obviously, she didn't get the irony.

“Tell her to come and find me in Pangaea, on the fifth floor! She

shouldn't go to the third floor, the bosses are there and they don't

need any more money! I do!” I kept on pulling her leg.

I will never find out how this story ends. I will see Diana at the

gym two more times till the end of the month and that's all...

Tuesday, 18th June 1996

This evening I had an unexpected phone call from Rena, one of

the most “advanced” disciples in Janus – she also happens to be

the secretary of the centre. With remarkable politeness, as well as

subtle pressure, she asked me to translate (free of charge, of

course) Alexander's book “Self-knowledge and Metaphysics”

from Greek into English as soon as possible, so that they can

present it at the Book Fair of Frankfurt in October.

I accepted willingly, because I wanted to show good will,

obedience and a spirit of service to the leaders of Janus, hoping

they will eventually begin to like me. Right from tomorrow I will

start working on the translation feverishly, aiming to finish it by

the end of summer. It should be noted that the book is rather

badly-written...

Thursday, 20th June 1996

As I was informed by an advertisement posted up all over the

city of Athens, a famous lama has just arrived in Greece. He is of

European origin but he has spent many years in Tibet; for many

years now, he has been travelling all over the world teaching

Tibetan Buddhism. This afternoon he is giving a lecture about

how to face unhappiness. He seems to be a very agreeable

person, and the subject interests me a lot; moreover, the lecture is

taking place at a centre of Buddhism which is only some metres

away from Aphrodite's house!

I wish to attend the lecture but I would rather not go alone, so at

about noon I phone Aphrodite and let her know. I expect her to

be enthusiastic about it, yet I am nonplussed at her immediate

frigidity: “I have nothing to do this afternoon, but I am not in the

mood of going to such a lecture, I had better stay home alone,”

she announces in a low voice and leaves me wondering, since

she has always given me the impression of being very interested

in such matters. I try to bring her round, she resists, I emphasize

I will come all the way from Glyfada, while she will only have to

walk some metres; she grumbles a little more and finally she

says in a plaintive voice: “Alright, Yvonne, I will come. But you

should know I will do so just because a friend is asking me to,

there is no other reason!”. I don't like this conclusion, but I act

the fool so as to achieve my goal.

We meet outside the centre of Buddhism at 8:00 o' clock. I

wonder again, because Aphrodite doesn't seem to be bored or

sulky now, she looks cheerful and lively. The lama proves to be

quite agreeable and interesting, he answers all questions

carefully and diplomatically, he surely knows how to win his

audience over to his views. He speaks English and one of his

disciples translates his words into Greek. At a moment, he

advises us: “When bad things happen to you, instead of thinking

' I am unhappy'', you had better think ' There is unhappiness in

the world''. In this way, you won't be feeling like a target any

more!”

This statement makes me think because it breaks the Ego; on the

other hand, it is a reasonable way to fight that dominant

impression I have had ever since I was an infant: I have never

stopped feeling like a target of visible and invisible evil forces,

though I often try to ignore it. Maybe this feeling is nothing

more than selfishness in disguise -according to the lama and

most gurus...

* * * *

Wednesday, 31st July 1996

The truth is I am disappointed from life. No matter how hard I

try to achieve something in any field of life, the result is always

poor or naught. That's why I have returned to Janus, that's why I

am ready to go to Alexander's asram again, despite the fiasco of

'92. This time I am even willing to pay 90,000 drachmas for ten

days. The price includes accommodation in tents and full board.

On the other hand, this is the best proposal for holidays I've had

this summer. I know I won't have a good time but I am leaving

tomorrow morning...

Sunday, 11th August 1996

All things considered, it was much nicer than I thought; the

asram has been improved a lot since 1992: A spacious cottage

has been built to the west, and another one is under construction

nearby. To the south there is a vast field of cultivated vegetables.

The central field is still full of nut-trees at the shadow of which

we have set up our tents. In the middle there is a picturesque

pond full of goldfish; it is decorated with a wooden bridge, stone

banks and a green islet with a palm-tree on top. To the east they

have constructed a big tank, which receives water from the

spring and serves mostly as a swimming pool. To the north there

is a well-built stone wall; behind it, the thick forest of fir-trees.

Every day we followed a specific routine which, although it

restricted our freedom a little, made life simpler: In the morning

we performed various tasks such as cooking, cleaning the house

and the lavatories, washing the dishes etc. I also managed to

finish the translation of “Self-Knowledge and Metaphysics”

from Greek into English ‒ that's about 200 pages in one and a

half month! To my surprise, though, I found out the same task

had been assigned to Danae, who had hardly finished the first

chapter!

In the afternoon we all went to the swimming pool; we swam

from 5:00 to 6:00 every day, together with the three huge dogs

that roamed about the estate: one belongs to Alexander and the

other two belong to close disciples of his. Very soon the water

was full of dog hairs but nobody ever complained. I only

wondered: Couldn't the animals swim right after we had come

out of the pool?

In the evenings, all twenty of us gathered around the big table

outside the cottage. Some guys played the guitar and we all sang

various songs, Greek or foreign, under the stars. It felt

wonderful...

During my stay in the asram I also had the opportunity to

improve my relationship with Maria Glenos, with whom I shared

the tent. We took part in interesting discussions, we played

volleyball with the others, we walked to the nearby village every

afternoon. On the fourth day, I was happy to see Aphrodite and

Theano arrive at the asram.

In general, we all got along very well; in fact, I was surprised to

realize there were no whims, disagreements, or quarrels among

us during these ten days in the asram; I mean, if you take twenty

“normal” persons and send them on holidays together, pretty

soon they won't be able to tolerate each other. When I explained

these thoughts of mine to Maria, she commented that “The guru

has done a very good job with his disciples.”

In the morning of my departure, as we were all sitting around the

big table taking breakfast, Alexander turned to me and thanked

me for the translation I finished so quickly. According to his

publisher, I have done “a very good job, but the book has

changed style”. Then he turned to another disciple and proposed

her correcting my translation, so that the text will return to its

original style. I smiled and accepted the guru's review – which

was nothing more than one of his tricks for breaking Egos. I only

explained that when a book is translated into another language, it

inevitably changes style. So, that was my reward for the hard,

specialized and unpaid work of one and a half month: The guru

talked to me for ten whole minutes (something unprecedented

within the five years in total I have attended Janus), he advised

me to wear more modern clothes and nicer glasses, and he made

clear that men av