posted on Oct, 11 2005 @ 07:14 PM
So I head of "otherkin" who think they have the soul or were in a past life a dragon/faerie(or however the (explitive) you're supposed to spell it
all fancy-like) or elf, etcetera in their past life. I think that I've found a connection that is quite a bit different.
In my past life, I was a transformer. No, not a robot, but an electrical transformer. I cannot be sure where I was created, but I was installed at a
bowling alley in Brockton, Ohio. Three-phase transformer. It was a nice life. I just sat quietly their, my coils quietly stepping down the incoming
voltage. The owners were decent about preventative maintainance, and things went well, except when some kids decided to spraypaint my beautiful dark
green exterior. Then I was moved to a different facility, some manufacturing place outside of Columbus. I was connected to a capacitor bank, "Fred",
for power factor correction. We worked very well together for many years. I still haven't found out what happened to Fred. Anyways, I was moved out
into storage for a year or two after the plant shut down, then I was moved to some little shop in eastern New York.
The people there got me second-hand and treated me like dirt. They did all kinds of crap. They constantly pulled too much current, used inductive
loads without a power factor correction, pulled way too much off one phase and not much from another, etceteras. My wiring was bad too. I was
miserable. Every night I felt bad. They constantly cursed about "that old transformer." It came to an end soon enough, though. It turns out I was
not proplerly grounded when a bolt of lightning hit the pole near the shop. Whiteness. Pain and whiteness. That was it, the last thing I remembered.
Sometimes I feel like going back to my past life. However after a few accidents and two trips to the emergency room, I have found that I cannot
convert a high voltage AC signal into a low voltage one. This saddens me greatly. I still do enjoy being in the company of other transformers, sitting
next to their quietly humming exterior. I talk to them (well, talk AT them) about life and how things are going. They just hum back.
So, anyways, be nice to your electronic equipment! Don't abuse or damage things like your computers, or wallworts, or anything else like that! Don't
call them pieces of @#$#@$ or the like. They all do the best they can, and it hurts. (Except for Fred, he was kinda' a slacker at times as far as
getting that power factor corrected.)
You should also say "thank you" to the automatic door at the stores. It really means a lot.
This life is kinda glum. Sometimes it seems like a punishment of sorts. I can't see what I did wrong. Maybe I can come back as a programmable logic