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I realize I didn't tell you where I went yesterday night. Well, imagine that Renianscance scenario in 13th century Europe. Pretty much the same stuff. When I got back I realized I should study up more to make things easier.

Remember how I said I studied gunpowder and electricity? I studied all sorts of things, such as metallurgy too. Well, guess what? I come into a stoneage society of warring tribes. Knowing how to use electricity did me a lot of good there! However, it was a good refresher into the good old days where I was in Sparta. I started with a tribe though. But I trained them similarly; and equipped them best I could. I did figure out how to forge some bronze and iron, which REALLY helped. I ended up with blacksmiths by the third year. I was there a total of about five.

Things were really interesting. Most of the tribes (including mine) were hunter/gatherer. You can only imagine their fitness level! The simple society made my first year of learning the language very easy compared to others. I made it up to them by teaching them how to make better weapons, tools, houses, clothes, ect. The battles were quite something too. 30 of my guys versus well over 100 of others at times. When I left, I had complete conrol of all the land I could see when I stood on this large hill. We were all on a giant plane type area, so a big hill in the middle allows you to see far. It was great!

BUT MY STUDIES DID NO GOOD! I should learn to study in a broader area. Guerilla warfare would do good. If I ever come to a place like this again.

History

Sorry I haven't posted anything today. I've been studying lots of history. And some science. I want to be as far ahead tonight when I leave. I've already studied different types of gunpowder, to supplement my previous experience. I also studied electricity and different ways of making it, never know when that may come in handy.

Been studying old war strategies, different inventions, and so much other stuff. My mind is a little overwhelmed. Whatever happens tonight, wherever I go, I want to be prepared.

Now, I must continue. I will try and say more tomorrow.

Five score and seven years ago...

Okay, I went back farther than that. It was the American Civil War this time! Well... not quite. I actually came in about 50 years before the scene. Everything was different. Napoleon had won the war against England long ago. America had expanded into Canada because the British Empire no longer existed. And, there was no Abe Lincoln or the Gettysburg address. I just felt like giving this post that title in his honor.

This time around, the south was still fighting for slaves, but the north was actually those up in Canada. They pretty much stayed out of it. However, those in between were the ones fighting hard against slavery. And I actually came in the picture a few days before the first major fight. There was a town halfway between the South and the Middle (seriously, that's what they were called. Middlers). A slave had committed a crime and was about to be hanged for it as though he were a normal man, according to the laws of the Middlers. However, the slave's owner believed they couldn't do that to his "property". The slave was hanged, and a fight ensued. And since staying neutral meant being in the Middle... I helped fight against slavery this time (though I had taken thousands, no, probably more like tens of thousands of war prisoners in the past and made them slaves).

As you could hopefully guess, my experience with guns went really far. When the war started, the common weapon was a matchlock musket (takes a long time to reload, inaccurate beyond 50 meters or so, and unreliable), and within the first year we had something reminiscent of the M1 Gerand. Cannons took a leap... or at least the range and accuracy of their ammo did.  And their explosive payload. They went from five pound cannon balls to, well, in some cases 100 pound flying bombs. I even made some body armor, could stop a pistol dead. And a rifle from longer out.

But as it turned out, the South was more usefull to the North then the Middle was (yeah, I'm confused too. Still am). So we ended up being attacked from above and below. Talk about trying to cut out the Middle man. Anyway, lots of big explosions, gunfights, trench wars; basically a combination of what I had done before. I never got to find out who won though. I was watching some troops march back into a city after a major victory when I woke up.

I'll continue on my story of my time in Sparta another time. Maybe tomorrow. When I get more people to read it...

Sleep...

Yeah, staying up for two days isn't as easy as I thought. As it got dark last night, I slipped. But I wasn't gone very long this time; less than a month in fact. This time I came to a modern looking city. Then was nearly trampled by a bunch of kids running from the cops. I was stunned at what happened and the kids ran past, so the police dragged me away. Once I was at the station they decided I was innocent (no one recognized me), so they let me go. Before long I realized that there was a war going on between the police and drug gangs. The city was starting to get a bad rep for it. Drug addicts and drug dealers were actually coming from across the country, and even across the world, to have easy access the drugs and money with little resistance from local authorities. At least one cop died every week. For once, I realized what I needed to do during my first day.

This is actually another great place where my very long stay as a Spartan helped out. After I finished the year of survival training, I got to come back. I was rewarded, properly, for doing so well. My reward? I was considered a real man, warrior, and Spartan. A full fledged citizen. And as such it was my duty to make war. I continued training and become the leader of a "squad" like band of other young spartans. My squad, and others like them, would conduct training missions against each other (as usual, often resulting in deaths), and even skirmishes/small wars with the local helots. Here we learned to fight as a small, cohesive group. Almost like special forces. And in the ancient world, that's what we were. Every Spartan soldier was an elite warrior, just as a special forces soldier. Imagine a city state where every male citizen was an elite Navy Seal or something. These guys were tough.

So, from my experience leading this squad, and later larger groups, I managed to start leading the police forces as well. I began intense physical training for both me and them as well. Because of my previous experience in strength, I made gains very fast. I was able to wear full body armor and equipment and still sprint... even do parkour. This made the frequent gunfights very easy. The cops would do their normal fighting while I climbed up the side of a building and landed behind the druggies ranks.

I remember one time very well (it feels like last week to me). There were tree cars on a street outside of an alley that was packed with druggies who had robbed a bank, and all of their junk the used for cover (old cars, dumpsters, ect.) They even had a concrete barricade at the entrance of the alley. When the police cars were in position, they all got out and ran for cover (me and the cops). I told them a plan I had just thought of, then ran off to do it. Charging right for the center of the alley, I leaped up on the barricade the sprang forward while actually flipping backwards. As I was in the air, I took out six gangsters hiding behind their cover. I landed and continued moving forward. When my pistols were empty, I took a shot gun off a guy as he was falling (I had just slit his throat with another gangsters knife). From there it wasn't long before I was at the end of the alley. All of the gangsters were now facing me, away from the entrance to the alley. The cops came in easily and arrested any who were still alive (there were no wounded). 13 arrested and 22 dead. This was NOT my fist fight.

On the way back to the station, I saw blood coming out of my armor. When we arrived, I took it off and found some buck shot had made it through multiple parts of my armor and was stuck under my skin. We removed all the shot promptly (or rather, I took out my knife and did so). A bullet had also peirced my arm, right through the bicep. It seemed like a fairly small hole, all things considered. That was the most exciting point yet in this travel. I awoke a few days later.

Success!

I managed not to fall asleep last night! I stayed here the whole time! I'm tired though, so I'll keep this post short.

So where was I? Oh yeah, that stupid wolf. That thing supplied me with food for a month and some clothes. After that fight, and the initial few days of trying to recover from the cold and exertion (I don't care if I spelled that wrong), that winter wasn't really so bad. I had a wolf skin cloak going, and I had plenty of good meat (meaning the organs as well). At one point there were even some young helots who wanted revenge or something; wanted to rebel. I was, um... scouting a nearby little village of their's and over heard them. I decided to intervene for the sake of Sparta. That wolf cloak was died red from that night onward. I was feeling the power of a warrior. I felt ready for anything.

But right now, I don't. I just want to sleep. But I'm afraid if I do, I'll go somewhere else again. I saw something on lucid dreaming (a dream where you know you're dreaming, and strange things can happen), so I'll be reading more of that. Maybe I can find an answer to this. And stop it...

NO!

It happened again! Once again I go to sleep in my bed to wake up in some other place. AHH!! I can't take this much longer! At least it doesn't feel so bad while I'm there. It's when I wake up back here that I become upset; because everything that is "real" I will only be able to live with for a short while. I might try to not go to sleep tonight. That might fix it. Hopefully...

Anyway, have any of you heard of the game Assassins Creed? The place I went to seemed an awful lot like that. I was in the Renaissance era. But I wasn't quite an assassin per se... more of I found myself amongst a poor part of the city filled with gangs. Yeah, apparently there were gangs then too. After the first few initial months of struggling to learn the language, the local gangs began to see value in some of my knowledge. Once I had learned to use the guns of the time (which were horrible even compared to the WWI rifles I was used to, by the way), I was essentially a pro. Even showed them how to make them better. I also had some skills in survival, stealth, sabotage, and other things from my years in Sparta. They taught me a few tricks as well, tricks more reminescant of the assassins creed game.

Now, there came a point in my Spartan training where I needed to learn survival skills. So to teach me, I was sent off for a year on my own with nothing but a tunic. And a whole... included winter. It was horrible. The first initial months weren't to bad. It was summer, after all. A little warm, but I could steal lots of honey and other food from the helots. I got in... conflicts with a few though. At this point, it wasn't my first time killing. But when winter actually came, things got hard. I had already, acquired, some basic tools (including a knife). It didn't do me a lot of good though when I was bathing in the cold water and a starved wolf attacked me. I ended up wrestling that thing in the freezing cold mountain water during the winter. After that day, I never complained about wrestling again. Or even full blown pankration. You try wrestling a wolf in a freezing river during the winter, while wearing nothing.

I just realized, I've been kinda jumping around in here, haven't I? Oh well, it's how I think now. I switch between these different worlds so much in my mind. I've already had my world, ancient greece, WWI, and now the Renaissance. It's starting not to matter now. I'm always somewhere. There is always something to do. It still seems like an awful lot though.

Now, back on track. I was in Rome. These gangs wanted power. I did too. They had only ever tried to gain power by taking over the domain of other gangs. I convinced them to look up; towards the rest of the city. I wanted all my trouble to be worth it. Since I had already been living in another world for over two years, I have to get something. One month later, we rose up. All as one. The underground of the entire city came together. We wanted Rome!

The trouble came while freerunning through the city. Apparently those extra good guns I helped make got in the hands of our enemies. I was leaping across a street (50 feet in the air between to buildings), when I saw someone in a window below me pointing a rifle. Next thing I know, there is a sharp pain in my shoulder, right above my heart. I land on the other roof and roll. That hurts my shoulder more. I stay there for several seconds, trying to breathe. I hear someone cock a pistol. I look up and there are two soldiers right in front of me. I leap up and barely avoid his bullet. Tiles underneath my feet shatter. I then land on the first shoulder and stab him, then take his sword and throw it at the other soldier. It sticks him to the roof. I then stood there, watching as I bled. My heart was racing; the blood would not stop. There was a fight going on below. A fight between my men and theirs. I charged, leaping off the building. It was wrestling the wolf all over again. This time though, instead of it being in a freezing winter, it was in a street filled with blood. And instead of being naked, I was coved loosely in torn, bloody rags. The clothes I wore were filled with bullet holes and cuts from blades. So was my flesh. And as the excitement reached it's peak, I woke up again.

Not again

I've spent the last several hours becoming reoriented. Remember how I said I was in 500 BC Greece last night? Yeah, I had meant to tell you more about that. But guess what happened instead? I went SOMEWHERE ELSE last night too! This time I think I was in World War I. I stayed there for several months. But I don't know, it was all a blur. All I can remember clearly, is it was hell. Some people would stand up for a second and their head would never come back down with their body. I would wake up to maggots in my bread. And I had it good! Others would wake up with maggots IN THEIR OPEN WOUNDS they recieved from guns and grenades!

Now to tell you a bit more about living in Greece. After being dragged back to Sparta as a slave, I was put to work as a farmer. The work that a "real" man couldn't do because he was in war. Anyway, a bit of history you might not know, but for a spartan youth to become a man he has to sneak out of the city one night and with his bare hands, kill a helot (a slave). Well, remember how I said I was a slave here? Yeah. Apparently one of the strongest youths came out one night, and picked me to try and slay. I was awaken in the night by someone picking up the rock I was using as a pillow (I was sleeping out on the ground, didn't have anywhere else). I looked up and he had it raised above his head, ready to slam it down on me. I launched my legs backwards up above and behind my head, nailing him in the gut. He went tumbling back, while dropping the rock on his foot. I got up, ran over there, and managed to choke him to death. Next morning, I thought the others were going to kill me. Instead, they rewarded me! By... taking me into the city and whipping me until I fainted.

You remember how I said last night I appeared in world war I? Luckily, I appeared behind british lines, so I didn't have the language barrier like last time in greece. However, there was their strange accent. And I swear, if someone mentions tea time one more time! WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FREAKING WARZONE! And all they could focus on were the tea rations. Wow... Also luckily for me though, all my years in Sparta started coming back to me. I would exercise regularly (yes, in a four foot tall trench I managed a full body exercise everyday). And my training also allowed me to sneak out regularly to get real food. I stole food from the officers on BOTH sides quite a lot. I did not expect them to have pork. That was a surprise. And bacon }:)

Now back to my "reward". I ended up finding out later, that this stupid whipping ceremony was actually what they did to all their kids in training. They would take all the kids being trained for war periodically, whether they were good or bad, and have them stand in front of these posts and whip them. They would whip them to see how long the kids could take it without making a sound. Those who fainted (like um... me) were considered weak. At least I managed not to cry out, like many I saw. But even if I had, they would have whipped me until I stopped. That's how they got the kids to shutup. If he misbehaved, they would beat him. If he cried out or made a sound, they would keep beating him until he stopped. Even if he fainted or died.

That, and the actual training was intense. My first day they brought me for pankration (possibly the oldest martial arts, but it didn't seem like an art. There were no rules), I saw one 10 year old boy KILL an older boy while practicing. And guess what, he was REWARDED FOR IT! Not like I had been, but an actual reward! And the boy that died? When his friend shed A SINGLE TEAR, he was beat. That boy couldn't walk for a week. But he never shed another tear, ever.

I was surprised when I left WWI. I was tired of sitting in the trenches, so I spoke to the general (it was HARD getting in contact with him). I convinced him to follow this plan of attack I had thought of (more experience from Sparta). The army spent the next several days getting ready. The day of the attack, I was partially awake, waiting for the sun to rise. Then I opened my eyes and was in my bed I had fell asleep in last night. I was almost shocked from all the change. As I said, I spent several hours reorienting myself. Now to go... do something meaningful. I don't want to go to sleep tonight. If this happens again...

Am I awake?

Okay, you may have a hard time believing this, but 12 hours ago I was in 500 BC Greece. Either that or I still am, and am just dreaming.

I'm getting ahead of myself here, aren't I? Alright. When I remember back far enough, about 50 years for me, but probably yesterday for you, I was living a normal life. I did school, I hung out with friends, listened to music, all that good stuff. Unfortunately, I was a little to normal. A little smaller and weaker than the neighborhood bullies, a little dumber than the average kid my age, you know, all that stuff. But then I went to sleep last night:

It feels like it was so long ago. I remember waking up on the side of the road in nothing but a tunic. This wasn't a paved road in a city like what I was used to. This was a dirt road through a grass plain in site of the mountains. And I didn't just wake up on my own. I was picked up off the ground by this man yelling at me in some language I couldn't understand. He was really tall, muscular, and lean. He had three others following him, but these were smaller and weaker than him. I soon learned they were his slaves. And he was a Spartan Warrior...

Now I'm stuck wondering whether I'm dreaming or not as I type this. I lived a whole life in this other time, other world. I was an old man, now I'm a boy again. At a computer. This must be a dream. I hardly care about what I cared for yesterday. Can hardly remember any recent events. My mind is stuck in 500 BC. Is this just me getting over what's happened the last half century? I don't know. Am I awake even? Am I?

After I was rudely awaken, I was forced to live as a slave for several days. However, I guess that since I was so different (since before being woken up I was... awake here, in this world, or time, or whatever), they decided to see if I could make a warrior out of myself. I won't get into those details AT ALL! Yes, they were the most elite soldiers in history possibly, but if I told you what they did to get that tough no one would be allowed to read this blog. It's just that intense. And, as we see it now, inhumane. But it worked. And for the next decade, I was put through that. It was not fun.

Now to go contemplate what's real and what's not. I might do more tomorrow.