Thursday, May 8, 2014
My name is Bent Wade. Some have called me Hell-Bent but I could argue that Hell comes to me; I never go looking for it. This isnt about my name. Its about the future. I've always had dreams that come true. No lottery numbers. No lucky scratch tickets. Just dreams about a fence along a highway or a jet crashing into a skyscraper and many others but no details. Nothing to identify when or where they might happen but happen they did. All my life. At 17 years old I visited a psychic on a lark, hoping for confirmation about a dreamhouse in the mountains. She told me of the desert and lots of horses. Then she grew extremely frightened and refused to tell me any more. Idk. Maybe she saw my first wife! I'd have appreciated the heads-up on that one! Even my first wife had nightmares about our divorce a year before I asked for one. Lol! The psychic annoyed me and I wanted my money back, departing with a feeling of being ripped off. Ten years later I bought a horse. Two years after that I moved from Boston, across the country, to Nevada. On the drive, hauling a trailer and my horse, I saw that fence in the Shenandoah valley. In Tennessee I crossed a bridge over a bend in a river to reach a barn for the night. I'd dreamed the barn stood on an island but everything else appeared the same, from the steep river banks to the trees and the stableyard. In Vegas I owned a boarding stable and rode and trained horses as a hobby. In 2001 I saw a jet and skyscraper on tv. In the last 30 plus years I've dreamed and seen things come true more than I can recount. Why do I tell you this? Because last month I felt a premonition that I will be dead in three months: June 2014... My name is Hell-Bent Wade and I hope Hell isnt waiting but rather I know it won't.