White Privilege: Alien on the Run

By Ray Rose

The search for spiritual enlightenment has taken me to many fascinating places like New York, Los Angeles, Rome, Tokyo, Manilla, Bangkok, Shanghai and Dubai; places I never would have imagined seeing had I stayed in the small village where I grew up in rural Virginia. I have been rich, and I have been poor. I have been black while I was white! I have been Yin, and I have been Yang! See, I'm just like you! Read about me and learn more about yourself. That's a dare and a promise!

 

As an alien, I spent most of my adult life as a fugitive, on the run from the law. I hid in Kiev for three months, then Amsterdam, then Vancouver for two short months, and as the word leaked out about who and what I was, the more I could feel people watching me, even through my bedroom windows at night. COVID-19 shook the planet in 2020 as did the fatal death of George Floyd at the hands of police brutality. We were all in quarantine, but we all came together to march for social justice.

 

This was my most recent spiritual epiphany. Thus, I started writing short testimonials on Facebook about memorable moments, encounters that I had with other humans, and wrongs that I had committed prior to gaining the knowledge of life and the world that I now possess. My readers demended more!

 

So, f you like stories about drug deals gone bad, sex, police chases, car crashes, hallucinations, near-death experiences, spirituality, empathy, sympathy, murder, and witch craft, then you are going to love this series! Should choose to trudge through this journey with me please be warned . . . it is not for the weak at heart! Viewer discretion is advised! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: rayrose77
• Release date: Mar 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393506034

Ray Rose

Ray Rose grew up in the Town of Urbanna and attended Christchurch School in rural Virginia. Upon graduation from high school, he enrolled at George Mason University and joined Pi Kappa Phi fraternity in the second semester of his sophomore year.  He graduated with a BS Degree in Management Information Systems, but he let his life spiral out of control. He experimented with drugs, got arrested, and eventually fled the county as a fugitive! He lived in the Ukranie, Amsterdam, and Vancouver, Canada before finally settled in South Korea as an English professor at the University of Incheon. He studied at the New York Film Academy in Los Angeles during his summer breaks and between trips to Thailand, Japan, China, Vietnam, and the Philippines. After being deported from South Korea, he came back to his hometown in Virginia, where he taught Computer Literacy at Rappahannock Community College. After two years of that, he was let go, and he moved back to Fairfax and teamed up with Tim Thompson and Nate Offenbacher as a roofing contractor. That almost lasted a year before he was back on a plane. In Dubai, he taught Information Technology to the military and police personel, who had not yet graduated from high school. He married his fifth wife (fourth Korean), Hye-Na, who gave birth to two lovely baby boys, Savvy Messiah and Klevor Mello-Peace. After four years in Dubai, Ray moved his family back to the States and teamed up with Joe Gaskins in the production department at the Southside Sentinel, where he does kids and sports videos, historical documentaries, graphics and photography.  He is crazy! And he wrote a book about some crazy shit! This is the first book of a thirteen book series. We hope you will enjoy them all!

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Undisclosed Location

United States of America

(December 2020)

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ALIEN. WHAT IS IT LIKE . . . to be alien? Do I need a bubbly head and elongated fingers? How would the world have mistreated me then? In the alien and spiritual world, I am known as the Guru of Peace, but here on Earth, well let’s just say . . . I hadn’t always given life my best!

Maybe someone snickered one day because you had a silly haircut or because of the way you were dressed. Or maybe you can remember a time when you heard a group of friends talk bad about you after they thought you had left the room. Or maybe you were unfriended or kicked out of a social media group due to your sex, race, religion or for offending someone with your whole-hearted, honest opinion. I wish I had a buck for every time it happened to me!

At Christchurch, where I went to high school in Virginia, I was a wannabe, thug-gangster surrounded by rich, preppy white people!

In Fairfax, while attending George Mason University, I was a poor, white country boy trying to make it in the big city!

In Korea, I was classified by the color of my skin. They called me way-guk-in (foreigner), which is close in translation to way-kye-in (alien)!

In Thailand, it was more of the same. They called me fallong, and the natives were sure we were all wealthy. There was a lot of price haggling!

In Dubai, I was deemed Christian and plain white rice from the West! The difference in our physical appearances took away from my alien oddities!

I give thanks to my Maker for blessing me with subtle alien abnormalities that only seem to trigger when under heavy duress. I praise Her for allowing me to live among you virtually unnoticed and for keeping my crazy ass alive long enough to tell this story. Now, I pass the knowledge to you, as She instructed me to do, as it may save your life one day, and ultimately change the wry face of humanity forever.

We are not that much different! We all exist to be content and comfortable in the circular events of our daily lives. Like all of God’s creations, we eat in order to survive and reproduce; fore if we fail to reproduce, we will cease to exist! And if we cease to exist, we fade from memory and eventually fade from history altogether! Can you blame us?

Our brains are comprised of stardust particles. It is the particle of light that makes us who we are. It is your soul! And the personality of our soul is cyclical. The temporary shell you are currently wearing was provided at random, but it is possible that your Maker has given it to you for a forebodingly specific reason. I will explain more about how I learned to become one with my soul.

Humans form groups with people that share similar characteristics in order to feel acceptance, in the workplace or in social settings, such as at church. All humans have felt alienated or ostracized from a group at some point in their lives, especially in our younger years when we first started school. Thus, we are all cognizant of what it felt like . . . to be alien! And while we were BIG enough to handle it then, a large majority of adults revert back to babies once they become comfortable in their group. Once comfortable, they feel empowered to accept or reject others from joining the group based on how closely similar their physical characteristics, language, social class, and opinions compliment their own.

I always felt more alienated at home in the United States. The people are overly judgmental and constantly in search of flaws in others that they can use to benefit themselves in some way. As soon as anyone discovered a hint towards my abnormalities, they felt compelled to expose me and maybe make some money off of me in the process. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I have escaped death and detainment. I’ve been deported from countries back into the hands of the authorities, and I’ve been kicked out of every social media group ever created, aside from the ones I created myself.

This social discrimination may leave a potentially bright soul with the gut-burn feeling of rejection. In turn, they may retaliate that negative energy into a form of revenge. This type of hillbilly hatred was supposed to have died with the Hatfields and McCoys, but rather to my dismay, and the dismay of my Maker, it has multiplied exponentially.

The hate has bounced back and forth through generations so much so that even the grandchildren of the two childish adults, who were fighting originally, will never be allowed to become friends. And while some humans turn to violence, there are others, who turn to their Maker in times of woe. I speak to mine frequently, and she has answered my questions, warned me in times of danger, and guided my family and I to safety. I have lots of secrets I would like to share with the world, but like my oddities and my relationship with my maker, I had kept everything to myself until I began to write.

I belonged to groups! I led groups! Hell, I was the leader of a gang at one point! I blended in somehow everywhere I went, and when my Maker forewarned me that alienation was on the brink, I gathered my valuables and dipped! It made it quite difficult to sustain friendships. Along with hiding from the authorities most of my life, I was also forced to hide my oddities . . . if I stood any chance of fitting in with the norm. But what is the norm exactly? And who decides it?

I started to write about how I came to know I was an alien in 2000 while living in Vancouver, but at the time, the charred fragments of my memory were too broken and jagged to continue. The only thing I knew at the time was that there were at least two, if not three, secret government agencies trying to keep me alive in order to either read or erase my memory. I think one of them is known as the Keepers, but no one seems to know the answer to that one yet. All the while I smoked pot, popped pills, and partied like it was 1999 . . . aboard the Midnight Express on a fiery route toward death and self-destruction!

My three roommates in Vancouver were a numerologist named Patricia, an alien paleontologist named Alfred, who was a journalist living in New Mexico at the time of the Roswell incident, and his wife, Margie, who was a fortune teller/tarot card reader. They recognized the amount of power I possessed and identified with my inability to locate channels to release it. They knew I was coming before I got there, and they welcomed me with open arms. I consider meeting them my first spiritual epiphany. They taught me a lot about humans and about myself.

From them, I learned how to combine the world’s zodiacs, the numerology associated with a person’s birth dates and times of birth, along with their familial and regional languages, religions, social and political beliefs. I learned to quickly compute that data to infer a better picture of why a person may think, speak, and act in the manner they do rather than judging them based on their race or their fashion. Universally, the most important thing that I found out was that before I could officially make judgment upon others, I first had to know myself. I fled to South Korea in a hurry, and I never saw either of them since. I refer to this segment of my life as the Old Testimonials.

It took me a long time to know who I was, and they still do not know exactly what I am or where I am from. It took a long time for me to accept that I was never going to have a group here on Earth made up of humans with characteristics similar to mine. Once, I finally accepted that realization, I realized that I was no longer in need of a group in order to feel acceptance, but I always felt the need to have a partner to share my experiences. As I mentioned, it took me a long time to know myself. Thus, my partners changed frequently!

I chose the title Alien on the Run, because I spent most of my adult life as a fugitive on the run from the law and from the other aforementioned secret agencies trying to crack the code blocking access to the information embedded in my brain via the Spider Box. I hid in Kiev, Amsterdam, and Vancouver. As the word began to leak out about who and what I was, I could feel people watching me. I could feel people that I thought I knew start to look at me differently. And that was when I knew it was time to bounce! My spiritual plight took me to other fascinating places like New York, Los Angeles, Rome, Tokyo, Bangkok, Manila, Beijing, Shanghai, and Dubai; places I would have only imagined had I stayed in the small town of Urbanna, where I grew up in rural Virginia.

COVID-19 shook the planet in 2020 as did the fatal death of George Floyd at the hands of police brutality. We were all in quarantine, but we came together as a community to march for social justice. I must admit, it has been a lot more comfortable living back in the States as long as I can continue to wear my mask and hide my identity. And then it hit me! It was the most eye-opening epiphany I had ever experienced. I started to remember things! Things that I was intentionally meant to forget. It was a reminder of what my Maker had sent me here to do 40 years ago!

I started writing short testimonials on Facebook about memorable moments I had with friends, spiritual epiphanies that I had experienced, encounters that I had with other special beings, and wrongs that I had committed in my youth prior to obtaining the knowledge and wisdom that I possess today. And as the Guru of Peace, I have a message for the world, and 20 years since I began writing it, I have finally found the inspiration to finish Book One of the series. This is going to be my most valiant effort to bring peace and balance to a divided nation.

See, I’m just like you! I want things in life to have balance. Balance is the gateway to happiness and peace! I preferred it the few times I felt rich, but I spent most of my life poor! I acted black, talked black, and hung out with black friends to perfect their language, and I was usually more accepted into their social groups than the groups of other races. At the same time, since I was raised as a county boy, I have also maintained good relationships with rednecks that call me Bubba! I have been both Yin and Yang at times in order to readjust a tilt in the balance and redirect a disruption in life’s flow!

My Maker has sent me here to do this job, and She reminds me that my white privilege should provide me with the competitive advantage over every other life that I have lived; the advantage that I would need if I am to finally achieve my goal of peace here on Earth. She will never let my soul rest until my mission has been complete.

I have oddities that I must conceal, a criminal rap sheet longer than this prologue and black holes in my memory that tweak my brain out of whack. There are still many things I need to know, things I cannot remember, but I am determined to find out. I need to start from the beginning in order to piece this puzzle together. I am hoping that as the story unfolds, the readers will help me with clues along the way as many of you were involved in these real life experiences. We can thank social media for presenting me with the opportunities to reconnect with many, while some are still dust particles floating in the wind.

Trust me, I know we all like stories about drug deals-gone-bad, police chases, car crashes, sex, strippers, swag weed, bad acid trips, magic mushrooms, whippets, near-death experiences, spirituality, empathy, sympathy, murder, witch craft, and life’s emotional rollercoaster of victories and defeats. The more you read about me, the more you will learn about yourself . . . and how to find balance within yourself. However, should you choose to trudge through this journey with me please be warned, it is not for the weak at heart! Some of the language may be violent and some scenes a bit graphic. Viewer discretion is advised! And if you are aware of my current location, please DO NOT TELL ANYONE!

My spaceship was set course for California, but I crash-landed in Wake, Virginia. I never was very good at following directions . . .

INTRO

Barricks Mill Pond

Middlesex County, Virginia

(August 1982)

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I STOOD IN A YARD FULL of pine straw with stringy blond hair in my eyes. My sweat was melting from the sweltering heat of a humid Virginia summer in 1982. My arms were full of pinecones. Of course, I had no idea what these things were, but my attention was diverted to a load splash!

What in the world was that? someone exclaimed. I looked up at an elderly man that I would soon identify as my grandfather. He wasn't a tall man, but his full head of white hair proved he was wise in stature.

He threw down his rake and broke into a trot toward the millpond. I dropped my load of pinecones to the ground and followed closely behind him. Ever since that day, I loved to run! This was my first memory as a human, either because my Sasquatch brother rattled my brain too much for me to remember, or I really am a powerful alien that took over the body of a famished 4-year old boy!

We reached a clearing and came to a halt at an embankment overlooking Barricks Millpond. What was it? I managed. It was my first attempt at English.

Shhh! he said, putting a finger to his lips in a silencing motion. Do you see how the waves radiate from the nucleus? The look on my face must have told him that I didn’t know that word.

My grandfather was a retired pilot for NASA, and he had just lost his wife, my father's mother, to cancer. Serious depression befell, and he told my parents they were no longer welcome to live in the trailer we had been renting from him in the adjacent lot. From the entry point! he clarified.

I nodded in befuddled agreement.

Life is like those waves, you see! he continued. We move along in our predetermined circles unaware of what lies ahead, afraid of what's going to happen next and fearful for it all to end. He picked up a rock and looked down at me. But in public, although we are scared as hell to die, we have to present ourselves as proud and accomplished, determined to look death in the face!

He showed me how to grip the rock between thumb and forefinger. I know you are smart, like your granddaddy, he began again, but you are going to make some bad choices in life. We all do! It’s a part of growing up! He reared back and flung the rock sideways. We watched it skip six or seven times across to the other side of the pond.

But remember! Failure can be your fastest teacher! So, never be afraid to fail! And never be afraid to die for something you believe in! He motioned downward, Grab a rock!

I knelt down and picked up a nice sized flat one and gripped it just the way he had shown me. "You will meet someone special that helps you make sense