In Response to blog post by SP Mount's Precipice of an alternate plane

Thank you for sharing this revelation of you, your life, your perspective on life, people actions. Some of this, I knew from other writings you've shared about your past, some were new insights; and though you are European born and I am American born, there are parts of this I can relate to; and you know that I'd say that; it won't surprise you...one reason I find you someone I can share parts of my life, very few outside of a small number have any clue about; not having had too much bravery to reveal that oddness, except maybe in autobiographical spurts of poetry, a few longer bits of memoir laced vignettes or essays, or maybe disguised as a short story, which you told me once is a way to tell the truth that no one would believe but as a story thought to be fiction is accepted as wild imagination. I really hate to let some of the bizarre things in my life be chaulked down by readers as a fabrication; there goes another similarity between us, a total dislike of falsehoods and lies; one reason I don't find anything amusing in a joke that passes itself off as reality and I'm standing there asking 'is this real or one of your jokes' or asking another who is present, 'is that true?' hoping I can get an honest response from that one, at least; and then being told I can't get a joke, which I say 'no, not when its hits me as a lie, nothing funny there, not to me.'
But you know I love a good laugh, nothing better, and you usually tell the good kind that are really funny and I have no problem seeing the funny in them, and in fact, on more than one occasion, I've read something funny you wrote that had me laughing till the stitch in my side pained me into silence, only to burst out chuckling a few minutes later recalling the piece, and then, read it later and still find it hilarious; now that is a gift.
Yes, thinking outside the box can be a good thing as well as a bad thing; some few have that unique ability to be outside the box looking in, and getting in can be a problem because of that strong desire of not wanting to be 'one of the crowd' and seeing what others find so appealing, instead see as totally disgusting, repugnant, distasteful, not attractive or desirable and wondering why they find it so damn great and knowing they will regret it later they had been such fools; but knowing at a young age, it wasn't for me and losing friends because I wouldn't do what they did; why should I, finding so much else to keep me happy and content and never missing that activity, being as my life was so full with things no others did; except it was what my family lived daily; interacting with parapsychological activities, and cryptozoological meetings, as well as earth/space connections; and this spread over several home places, and many years, which gave us credence in believing we had a touch to reach into realms most others couldn't.
You said your first memory was at age four; standing down your dad, refusing to obey an order that you knew was wrong and would plague you the rest of your life, if you had; good memory. I thought of that age in comparasion to mine and how much I would have missed if that had been the age my mind kicked in and started allowing me to remember my life; instead mine begun at 6 or 7 months old, a vision of a woman that I knew was not my mother, yet how I knew this I can't say, but it was my mother's own mother, Granny, holding something that both swung and glinted in the light. That winking light, I think was what did a double duty, causing me to pay attention, catch my eye and start my mind doing its cataloging of events I would remember the rest of my life. A crucifix, silver; she put it around my head, again, triggering a sensation of feeling cool metal and its weight upon my baby skin as I lay in the wicker laundry basket. Her smiling, then stepping back so I saw the blue sky and a bird flying away...that took my eyes off into nothingness and a few days passed before the next memory...and then more at the next place we moved; and many more, so that by age four I had a fair accumulation of memories from Gold City, Morris Street, and then in Henderson, Ky, at Mrs. Melton's, and then Payne's and then N. Alvis St...and there we stayed awhile, age 3 and 4 was spent there...and that was just the start.
Many things come to mind, just saying this bit...would people believe it, if I shared it? It's been iffy in life when I dared share...I've lost friends just by the fact they said it was more than they could wrap their minds around; so hence, my desire to be reticent in sharing my real life with others, because I'd rather write truth as truth than give in to my life being thought a fabrication; those who know me, know my straight forward, honest approach and literal outlook, expecting truth from others, because that's what I give them, but being disappointed, because most prefer to live a fake life, hiding behind makeup and false airs, and me, I am who I am, take me as I am or leave me, just pass on by, if you can't take me for who I am, yes, a Kentuckian who some say I'm simple, but who seem to miss that I am diamond faceted and wear many hats and am far from lazy, though some have called me that, because what I do isn't their idea of being busy. Those kind have never made it on my friends list, nor would I want them there.
 And yes, lonely is something a writer needs; and watching others has always been my forte; I'd rather watch people than go window-shopping; and thinking about the lives these people have, many ideas for stories or characterizations have come to me that way.
So, reading your blog here, brought from me this response. You always spur me on to think, and I'll always have you in high regard and am glad Destiny brought us to the same writing site within a few days of each other. There is a higher power that knows just what we need...and even the most dedicated lone wolf, needs others of like mind...upon occasion. Thanks, Stephanwolf.
Wayahowl