I was talking to a pal, about the soldier again:

“Well he’s got some pretty way out stories,” I said. “They are way out there. But here’s the thing. He told me the same stories when we were kids. He used to say this same stuff and when someone tells you something weird and they tell you the same thing decades later, well you have to grant them some credibility. Because people can think all kinds of things. They can go through a phase but if the thing is not real, it will drop off.”

“That’s true.”

“For example, my name. There was a time I was going to change the spelling. I was going to be Else with an E not an A but still pronounce it the same.”

She laughed.

“Yeah, it was stupid. I was trying to be interesting or something and it didn’t last because it wasn’t real. It was not authentic so it could not be sustained. Lasted about a week or two. Because who am I named after? Elsa Martinelli. I am named after a sexy Italian actress and considering I have a packed 8th house and Venus in Leo, I don’t see how I could have a more appropriate name.” I chuckled. “Yeah. I’m Elsa not Else for Godsakes. And my point is when I met the soldier he was a kid. He was 19. And he was telling me wild tales. And if they had no basis would he still be telling me the exact same story, utterly unchanged and unembellished 25 years later?”

“No.”

“I don’t think so either. I think he knows this stuff and always has. It’s the same as astrology. I talk about it when I’m 15 and that’s one thing. Maybe I’m crazy. But when I’m still talking about it decades later you have to either call me a raving lunatic or accept the fact I really can make sense of the symbols on the page. Because the order and the consistency in my thinking and what I communicate exists. And he’s the same. You can’t punch holes in his story. You just because his story is sound, he is living it.”

Is there something about you that has to be acknowledged as credible? What?