8544. THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW, #152.

152. MARLEYBOURNE 

FISHBURNE

I used to want to disappear;

I mean simply de-materialize

and be gone. There were very

many instances, on the streets

as I lived, where I'd find things

just left behind, right on the

sidewalk, anywhere  - a pair of

shoes, a shirt and a jacket, or

anything cast-off like that. I'd

be convinced that someone,

right there, had de-materialized,

left a few things behind and

gotten lifted or absorbed into

some other realm. A place

where I too wished to be.

Was there a vibrational

threshold that a 'bum' could

reach in which the bounds

of mortal existence got

taken away? Shaking the

bounds. Mortal coil. I

was pretty crazy like that.

One night, I swear this

is true  -  and I've written

pages about this and swear

here to find them and show  -

in some shit-sodden bar on

w14th street, the far west  -

it's gone now, the place,

but the streetside window

they had there, and the

open-air, sort-off, seating

area, the ante-room where

you could just drink and stare

out at passing street traffic  -

I met a guy named

Marleybourne Fishburne

 and we talked that night

for hours, really. Over

endless, late-into-the-night

drinks, pounding most certainly

one after the other, as endless

the array of weird street people

and 14th street denizens came

and went. I list a few: Bikers,

whores, thieves, bounty hunters,

addicts, murderers, swindlers,

pimps, gigolos, punks and

punk-rockers, sleazeballs,

criminals, runaways, drunks,

shams, and just pain losers.

No one paid us a mind, except

if it would have done them

some good, which it didn't.

His name, as I stated, was

Marleybourne Fishburne,

and I'd bet it still is, and he

forthrightly claimed to be,

as he called it, a 'Negotiator

for Extra-Terrestrials.' It

even said so on his card.

(The particular place we

drank at is gone now, it's

not  Flannery's and it's

not Bunga's Den, which

are both there today,

though it was near to

them). He was a nice

enough character, he

seemed to like me and

want to go on, so I let him.

He had plenty of money, or

so it seemed, and carried

forth this little conversation,

or rather I let him. There

were a few quite noticeable

things I noticed about him:

It was mid-September,

1967, but he seemed not

to inhabit that time at all, or

any. Cloud-like, he more or

less seemed to hover, and

change over-time, slowly

breaking shape and

rearranging, yet always

also remaining the same,

to the senses anyway. I

mean, I saw him, yes,

and he was there, but he

kept going away too. This

was all very odd, inasmuch

as there was, right up the

street, an 'Institute For the

Blind' or something, so there

were all sorts of blind and

sight-impaired people moving

about  -  with walking-stick

things like blind-people have,

and glasses. (I used to wonder

why they'd have dark glasses

on always, even at night, until

someone told me it made no

difference to them, silly, and

it was more to help sighted

people anyway  - who were

sometimes made uncomfortable

by the sights of their impaired

eyes, distended sockets, etc.

Now THAT made sense). This

Marleybourne guy sort of fit

right into that. The other thing

was, like, whatever he touched,

objects not his own, they seemed

then to disappear : like the table

person would bring a glass of

water and when it was done,

it would just be gone. It never

needed to be taken away, and

another one was just brought.

Same with the beers  -  never

empty bottles, they just were

gone, and more came. Yet,

he did have a large wad of

cash and seemed to think

little of throwing it around.

Pretty bizarre, and un-nerving

too, but then I got used to it and

just thought, hey, this is fun!

-

His point about representing,

or 'negotiating' for, extra-

terrestrials, was seemingly

valid enough. Though I'd

never actually 'heard' of it.

He said 'they' were here, all

around us, mostly unbeknownst

to us, but that the 'authorities'

had ways of knowing who they

were and kept them under

surveillance  -  there being

absolutely nothing they

could do about them or

their visualizations and

presences. Their missions

here were all to be

inconspicuous, (what we

would now call 'passing'),

but their need was to get into

people's brains and implement

the needed changes. All sorts

of people, so things start to

happen : architects, who then

begin to build weird and odd

buildings; designers, the guys

who do cars and toasters,

houses  and such; tree-cutters

and yard people, tree-trimmers

-  all those innocuous types,

who suddenly begin mucking

everything up for others, clearing

lands, cutting great swaths,

strip-mining, blowing things

up; people and politicians, to

make and continue wars and

conflicts over things; money

people, philosophers, writers,

all those types who initiate

things and enter them into

others' consciousnesses.

These extra-terrestrials

controlled all that, for

their certain, unknown,

agenda and reasons,

whether it's a hundred

years from now or five

hundred, it will happen

and things fall in place.

As he put it, 'That's where

you all got your 'Thy will

be done stuff, you realize.'

That kind of stopped me.

Anyway, if any one of

these blew their cover,

or lost it, and trouble

began stirring, and the

authorities stepped in and

rounded them, or a few, up,

he'd have to get involved,

and 'negotiate' for them,

a way out, and a

'dissolvement' back into

their own ethereal place,

or non-place, from which

they'd come. Or originated.
 Or from which we all
THOUGHT, here, in our

terms, they'd come or

originated. It was, as I thought 
back, like the opposite of some 
movie I kept remembering seeing 
from being a kid, where there 
was this goofy little angel guy on 
Earth, but he looked just dumb 
and ordinary, and he was here to
take someone back with him,
or some such assignment, 
after which, if he did it right,
he'd get or be 'awarded' his 
wings and all during the movie, 
whenever he heard a bell he'd 
say, with a soft, happy, almost 
puppy-like smile, 'another
angel just got his wings'  -  which
is what the 'bells' signified.
Or anyway, as I thought of it, 
since they were 'already' angels 
of a sort and he'd just be taking 
them away. Or maybe he
was just making me think
this stuff, I also figured, later.
All very confusing. But,

that's where he got his

'Negotiator For

Extra-Terrestrials'

thing from. He also said

he'd been here a v-e-r-y

long time, I wouldn't

understand the number,

and, as he put it, 'all 

things' are constantly 

working towards their

appointed ends, and no

matter what 'we' did, they'd

be worked along their way.

Life is illusionary, and 

where anyway do events 

begin or end? In very

mundane ways, all things 

are subjectively valid. 

There was point, I swear,

he lit a cigarette with the 

tip his finger alone.