11-30-2011, 12:00 AM
Sent: 2008
At about that time I was still watching videos. I also read the article about food for the moon and it had a pang of recognition it triggered...maybe a chime hehe...that was the impression I had. Not of "this is true" of "this is part true, in context of things I can not articulate". Perhaps ill try and explain the dreams that followed.
I was cut loose...I could move around without interdiction. The dreams were semi non linear...bits of threads would happen not in direct relation to the others. they were all more or less at the same time. but I cant explain them that way here. hehe. I was moving with beings, who looked like people...they a r people in the truest scence. The first bit was a reference to a dream I had forgotten, or only remembered in this dream. I saw storms coming in on a Doppler radar, tornado alerts. Before, one hit part of my dream house, and crushed it. and myself were safe by virtue of where we were in the building but it was t traumatic. So this time, I changed and applied movement. >I sent to playa t the house across the street that was not hit by the sudden storm. I moved to the least damaged portion. I let the scenarios play out again and again till I found the optimal positioning, then filed it away for future unfolding. I was in a community of beings, not alone, although not strictly bound either.
Next I was with them, and my brother. I found, in a garage, a tablet that had different coins and specific instructions for extracting precious minerals from each. You see, the value of the copper and trace metals in some is 30% greater then the face value. The chart I found was how to extract the rolls of copper and other minerals from pennies and other coinage. Part of the process was two men standing in Vulcan’s flames and rolling them out. It was how the Greek (frats) and secret societies stayed afloat during times of impending and current starvation. I knocked the tablet loose, coins fell from it. I placed them back, loosely, and handed it off to my brother. He said "Andrew, but you cannot do this...it will kill you". I knew, but I handed it off anyway for others. At this time everybody emptied their pennies into an infinite jar. > There would be a pressing, but it no longer concerned me...I just added some loose change to the jar.
I was wandering in the home were the elders and younger ones like me lived. Everybody was accepting of my presence, although I was not a key participant in the stories unfolding. I climbed the stairs upwards to the higher levels. About three floors up I found a crowded busy room. So I decided to climb back down. I found a staircase that seemed unused. These stairs were padded, the wood was red mahogany and velvet. They came from the utilitarian space...but as I began descending I saw they did not reach the ground. under them, there was a ten foot drop. I saw it as ornamental, and not a true staircase. Beings (older ladies) were come to the small stairwell, and I clung frozen or fear the ornamental stairs would break and fall. I explained it to them, and huddled. Very gently, they suggested I climb off them as they needed to use them now. So I just did and was relieved. They all smiled at me, and those stairs rose, formed a platform as opposed to stairs over the central shaft of the home. They each took a seat around it...floating in the air above the drop and began doing stuff. for a moment, I was in the center of a wavey alter, but I moved off.
So I climbed higher in the building...to the top. Here I found men around tables. their was a comfy sofa. But there was hardly and room for error. The chairs, the sofa, they perched no more then an inch from the edge of the central shaft. Men were speaking, rocking their chairs...and inches from a plummet down into the central void. The sofa looked comfortable, but were I to sleep there I would roll off the edge. So I began descending again.
Somehow I returned to the ground level. The ones I liked, the ones my age, they had guns and were going back into the garage. A firefight started. I huddled. the girl on my left was firing an assault weapon at figures behind another row of boxes. As was the guy to my right. I waited for them to finish the adversaries. Which they did. When done, I walked to the back of the garage where the beings they were fighting were located. I did not see the core, the bodies had sunk...just an arm of one girl or a leg of another in my vision. We had come to get a briefcase full of stuff. From the criminals, although we were as much of as some as them. I saw one arm, pretty in lace with tattoos, and some guys leg, and despaired. I replayed the scenario in my mind. The actual stuff we needed was by the front of the garage. If one of us had signed for it, it would be left their for the exchange. We weren’t going to pay what was expected...it would be a crime and evil . So like with the storms, I recharted the scenario, and filed it away so nobody would be destroyed. > Even though they probably, in context, deserved it, being parasites that were focused on us. but it was, with planning and awareness, unnecessary.
I was waking up a cool street with alawi...kawali...his name is not clear those are impressions now that im awake. He was black as tar, but a black man, not a thing. He dressed the part of a jungle savage. He had a fruit...like a papaya he shared with me as we walked. And instructed me how to eat this. First, as we strolled, remove the first layer....I tasted it. it was not good. like a non starchy potato...flat and solid...cool, but unappetizing. Then, with my spoon, I removed the next layer....still not sweet, but with a hint of something delicious. Then, he had me take the third layer. >Cool a and delicious, light like sunlight or water but substantial. it was delicious. Now the fruit was a mass of pulp and veins, the inner bit. We had arrived in a house were the others were. This he showed me, squeeze over a glass. I did, and from the pulp, came ambrosia, or juice like nectar. Way more juice then the volume would allow. I drank the first class. then I squeezed a second from the pulp. Delicious. I then squeezed a third. Only half a glass, and leaves in it....plant matter like strawberry leaves in a strawberry shortcake. Now maybe it thought I had squeezed to much. So I wouldn’t drink the stuff. The last glass was taking to much from the "fruit". I had taken more then could easily regenerate. Alawi at this responded like a bell had been rung. His face became sad to a depth ive never seen. He began slowly moving to the door. His elephant (he had one to ride no car, tusks adorned with bells and red fabric, and a headdress, had putt its head into the window. From the elephants eye there was a single, great tear. alawi opened the door slowly. Outside of it was a horror. Another allawi. Its face bloody and stabbed through with knives or swords. Maybe we fought him in the garage, or at some other point in time. there were "police" or soldiers holding this one in chains. But not enough. the horror raised its hand...in its fist was a gun...the gun I was shot with when the tabled blocked the bullet. Alawi was shot through the head, and fell dead. and was gone. >
This bit was on top of the other action, so bear withy me. My father and I were in a silly vehicle, going to retrieve the rest of the family from a concert they had gone too...or some sort of gathering. We were on a two lane road over some hills. we came to the valley. We crossed a line...I could see it, in the earth...a grey line....it was hollow, like a burrow, and a material like ash/concrete made it a tube around the valley. Bellow this point everything had a grey quality. And there was ash. we drove through burned stands of trees. I looked deeply at them. burned, but alive, the leaves and bark had burned and turned them grey. the grass was burned. > not all of the vast orchard had burned, but this part had. the whole valley was bellow a dividing line. everything had a different tint, and taste d of ash and what is left after a fire. Now instead of going to retrieve the others, my father wandered to a booking office. A woman there offered the "vip" tickets for the show. My father took out last 40 dollars, bought them, and vanished. I protested. they weren’t his to do that with, I needed them back. Each ten dollar bill was one of the other 4 members of my family. He should not have bought those tickets to some event. but the women would not budge, she didn’t care. They were bought, and the bills were not coming back to me, end of story. So I began fabricating the story of her trickery...which wasn’t just a trick, it was the exchange she and my father had had which I could not see. but I guessed it. I demanded to see the organizer, the big cheese. finally she consented. and he came in a flash. Well dressed, a little older then me. We knew each other...we were...friends So I began talking. first were greetings. then I explained the situation with the bills. He said "just give them back" and seemed annoyed that she wouldn’t do so until he came. but she continued to protest...they were in the middle layer now, it was too hard to pull them out, it would leave a void etc etc. He didn’t care..."just give them back to him" and was done explaining to her. she did...I folded them and stuck them back in my wallet, and she faded and was gone. He smiled, but his hands behind his back and walked to a window overlooking the valley now. and we talked. I asked about the concert. "ac/dC", it fires up the emotions and is good for gathering and making the quota. the fire...Well Andrew, some of those whop came were teenagers...they set part of the fire on the way out. He began commenting with a sigh that there were few venues left that would hold this traveling event due to such vandalism. and that he had not made quota, being so far out in t he valley. Not as many would casually come. this made me a little sad for him, maybe I should re purchase...but no. Those little bits would not make the difference, and he wasn’t noticing the loss as making a difference. So we talked as too associates...equals...friends for a bit that hadn’t met in a while. And I left. He was the one, the devil that had poisoned me with the water before. I didn’t take my family as people back...just got the bills...the souls...not sure, and returned them to my protection and left.
Things were drawing to a close. The stories done. My friends (they remind me in their paths of those BSG characters lol) had began to leave the place. The older women were simply watching the end of it all as the tail end of a TV show on the upper levels. It was time for me to depart back here. One of them, looked kind of like star buck lol, she had a fast racing car full of power. > I watched d a bit as the new show formed...it was the aftermath, only a few characters carried forward into that story, and none of the ones I strongly felt for, so I left the house and the old ladies and those of my parameters that were left. Before I did, I told the story of alawi, and his fate. That made everyone cry. I began telling the car jock about it, but she got so taken by grief she asked me to stop. she had already heard it, second hand (word travels fast). So she gave me a ride...I didn’t want to walk...it was close, but still a long walk and I was in a hurry. I w anted to ride in her car because she was my favorite, and I had rearranged allot to carry that one through past the end. Although they couldn’t know it, or even I beyond knowing without the details. Plus it was awesome like a metal dragon....it literally dragged one forward at great speed and velocity. I saw the road on the hill, the one from so many dreams and pointed out were to go...but she missed it, its a narrow and easy to miss path to most. We ended up on a slow congested freeway. The car became a big rig truck...we actually had to get out and move it as it would stall a bit in traffic. Still, the other cars couldn’t hurt us, just make it slow. The farther we went with the crowd, down the freeway, the more the truck changed. it became plastic and small, and finally, to my eyes, the color and the size of one of those shopping carts with the toy car from that like to sit in. My legs were so big, no matte r how much I compressed, my toes would lift the front of the vehicle. I was too large hehe. So at the next traffic jam, I simply exited to an access ladder (now in a tunnel). From here I made my way back, as I then woke.
(One of the funny things was all these characters had so much wealth. and me none. But I could give myself clothes like theirs, create cars for a time to drive. It was important I be like them, so we were all at ease. not look hungry, or starving, not worry them with what I might try to take, or be a supplicant to be employed or used. I was unbound and that was key...so I can edit and examine and file my changes. Without clueing them in. lol) And really, I wasn’t more impoverished. None of them had a depth like a bank account behind the wonders and terrors. hehe
At about that time I was still watching videos. I also read the article about food for the moon and it had a pang of recognition it triggered...maybe a chime hehe...that was the impression I had. Not of "this is true" of "this is part true, in context of things I can not articulate". Perhaps ill try and explain the dreams that followed.
I was cut loose...I could move around without interdiction. The dreams were semi non linear...bits of threads would happen not in direct relation to the others. they were all more or less at the same time. but I cant explain them that way here. hehe. I was moving with beings, who looked like people...they a r people in the truest scence. The first bit was a reference to a dream I had forgotten, or only remembered in this dream. I saw storms coming in on a Doppler radar, tornado alerts. Before, one hit part of my dream house, and crushed it. and myself were safe by virtue of where we were in the building but it was t traumatic. So this time, I changed and applied movement. >I sent to playa t the house across the street that was not hit by the sudden storm. I moved to the least damaged portion. I let the scenarios play out again and again till I found the optimal positioning, then filed it away for future unfolding. I was in a community of beings, not alone, although not strictly bound either.
Next I was with them, and my brother. I found, in a garage, a tablet that had different coins and specific instructions for extracting precious minerals from each. You see, the value of the copper and trace metals in some is 30% greater then the face value. The chart I found was how to extract the rolls of copper and other minerals from pennies and other coinage. Part of the process was two men standing in Vulcan’s flames and rolling them out. It was how the Greek (frats) and secret societies stayed afloat during times of impending and current starvation. I knocked the tablet loose, coins fell from it. I placed them back, loosely, and handed it off to my brother. He said "Andrew, but you cannot do this...it will kill you". I knew, but I handed it off anyway for others. At this time everybody emptied their pennies into an infinite jar. > There would be a pressing, but it no longer concerned me...I just added some loose change to the jar.
I was wandering in the home were the elders and younger ones like me lived. Everybody was accepting of my presence, although I was not a key participant in the stories unfolding. I climbed the stairs upwards to the higher levels. About three floors up I found a crowded busy room. So I decided to climb back down. I found a staircase that seemed unused. These stairs were padded, the wood was red mahogany and velvet. They came from the utilitarian space...but as I began descending I saw they did not reach the ground. under them, there was a ten foot drop. I saw it as ornamental, and not a true staircase. Beings (older ladies) were come to the small stairwell, and I clung frozen or fear the ornamental stairs would break and fall. I explained it to them, and huddled. Very gently, they suggested I climb off them as they needed to use them now. So I just did and was relieved. They all smiled at me, and those stairs rose, formed a platform as opposed to stairs over the central shaft of the home. They each took a seat around it...floating in the air above the drop and began doing stuff. for a moment, I was in the center of a wavey alter, but I moved off.
So I climbed higher in the building...to the top. Here I found men around tables. their was a comfy sofa. But there was hardly and room for error. The chairs, the sofa, they perched no more then an inch from the edge of the central shaft. Men were speaking, rocking their chairs...and inches from a plummet down into the central void. The sofa looked comfortable, but were I to sleep there I would roll off the edge. So I began descending again.
Somehow I returned to the ground level. The ones I liked, the ones my age, they had guns and were going back into the garage. A firefight started. I huddled. the girl on my left was firing an assault weapon at figures behind another row of boxes. As was the guy to my right. I waited for them to finish the adversaries. Which they did. When done, I walked to the back of the garage where the beings they were fighting were located. I did not see the core, the bodies had sunk...just an arm of one girl or a leg of another in my vision. We had come to get a briefcase full of stuff. From the criminals, although we were as much of as some as them. I saw one arm, pretty in lace with tattoos, and some guys leg, and despaired. I replayed the scenario in my mind. The actual stuff we needed was by the front of the garage. If one of us had signed for it, it would be left their for the exchange. We weren’t going to pay what was expected...it would be a crime and evil . So like with the storms, I recharted the scenario, and filed it away so nobody would be destroyed. > Even though they probably, in context, deserved it, being parasites that were focused on us. but it was, with planning and awareness, unnecessary.
I was waking up a cool street with alawi...kawali...his name is not clear those are impressions now that im awake. He was black as tar, but a black man, not a thing. He dressed the part of a jungle savage. He had a fruit...like a papaya he shared with me as we walked. And instructed me how to eat this. First, as we strolled, remove the first layer....I tasted it. it was not good. like a non starchy potato...flat and solid...cool, but unappetizing. Then, with my spoon, I removed the next layer....still not sweet, but with a hint of something delicious. Then, he had me take the third layer. >Cool a and delicious, light like sunlight or water but substantial. it was delicious. Now the fruit was a mass of pulp and veins, the inner bit. We had arrived in a house were the others were. This he showed me, squeeze over a glass. I did, and from the pulp, came ambrosia, or juice like nectar. Way more juice then the volume would allow. I drank the first class. then I squeezed a second from the pulp. Delicious. I then squeezed a third. Only half a glass, and leaves in it....plant matter like strawberry leaves in a strawberry shortcake. Now maybe it thought I had squeezed to much. So I wouldn’t drink the stuff. The last glass was taking to much from the "fruit". I had taken more then could easily regenerate. Alawi at this responded like a bell had been rung. His face became sad to a depth ive never seen. He began slowly moving to the door. His elephant (he had one to ride no car, tusks adorned with bells and red fabric, and a headdress, had putt its head into the window. From the elephants eye there was a single, great tear. alawi opened the door slowly. Outside of it was a horror. Another allawi. Its face bloody and stabbed through with knives or swords. Maybe we fought him in the garage, or at some other point in time. there were "police" or soldiers holding this one in chains. But not enough. the horror raised its hand...in its fist was a gun...the gun I was shot with when the tabled blocked the bullet. Alawi was shot through the head, and fell dead. and was gone. >
This bit was on top of the other action, so bear withy me. My father and I were in a silly vehicle, going to retrieve the rest of the family from a concert they had gone too...or some sort of gathering. We were on a two lane road over some hills. we came to the valley. We crossed a line...I could see it, in the earth...a grey line....it was hollow, like a burrow, and a material like ash/concrete made it a tube around the valley. Bellow this point everything had a grey quality. And there was ash. we drove through burned stands of trees. I looked deeply at them. burned, but alive, the leaves and bark had burned and turned them grey. the grass was burned. > not all of the vast orchard had burned, but this part had. the whole valley was bellow a dividing line. everything had a different tint, and taste d of ash and what is left after a fire. Now instead of going to retrieve the others, my father wandered to a booking office. A woman there offered the "vip" tickets for the show. My father took out last 40 dollars, bought them, and vanished. I protested. they weren’t his to do that with, I needed them back. Each ten dollar bill was one of the other 4 members of my family. He should not have bought those tickets to some event. but the women would not budge, she didn’t care. They were bought, and the bills were not coming back to me, end of story. So I began fabricating the story of her trickery...which wasn’t just a trick, it was the exchange she and my father had had which I could not see. but I guessed it. I demanded to see the organizer, the big cheese. finally she consented. and he came in a flash. Well dressed, a little older then me. We knew each other...we were...friends So I began talking. first were greetings. then I explained the situation with the bills. He said "just give them back" and seemed annoyed that she wouldn’t do so until he came. but she continued to protest...they were in the middle layer now, it was too hard to pull them out, it would leave a void etc etc. He didn’t care..."just give them back to him" and was done explaining to her. she did...I folded them and stuck them back in my wallet, and she faded and was gone. He smiled, but his hands behind his back and walked to a window overlooking the valley now. and we talked. I asked about the concert. "ac/dC", it fires up the emotions and is good for gathering and making the quota. the fire...Well Andrew, some of those whop came were teenagers...they set part of the fire on the way out. He began commenting with a sigh that there were few venues left that would hold this traveling event due to such vandalism. and that he had not made quota, being so far out in t he valley. Not as many would casually come. this made me a little sad for him, maybe I should re purchase...but no. Those little bits would not make the difference, and he wasn’t noticing the loss as making a difference. So we talked as too associates...equals...friends for a bit that hadn’t met in a while. And I left. He was the one, the devil that had poisoned me with the water before. I didn’t take my family as people back...just got the bills...the souls...not sure, and returned them to my protection and left.
Things were drawing to a close. The stories done. My friends (they remind me in their paths of those BSG characters lol) had began to leave the place. The older women were simply watching the end of it all as the tail end of a TV show on the upper levels. It was time for me to depart back here. One of them, looked kind of like star buck lol, she had a fast racing car full of power. > I watched d a bit as the new show formed...it was the aftermath, only a few characters carried forward into that story, and none of the ones I strongly felt for, so I left the house and the old ladies and those of my parameters that were left. Before I did, I told the story of alawi, and his fate. That made everyone cry. I began telling the car jock about it, but she got so taken by grief she asked me to stop. she had already heard it, second hand (word travels fast). So she gave me a ride...I didn’t want to walk...it was close, but still a long walk and I was in a hurry. I w anted to ride in her car because she was my favorite, and I had rearranged allot to carry that one through past the end. Although they couldn’t know it, or even I beyond knowing without the details. Plus it was awesome like a metal dragon....it literally dragged one forward at great speed and velocity. I saw the road on the hill, the one from so many dreams and pointed out were to go...but she missed it, its a narrow and easy to miss path to most. We ended up on a slow congested freeway. The car became a big rig truck...we actually had to get out and move it as it would stall a bit in traffic. Still, the other cars couldn’t hurt us, just make it slow. The farther we went with the crowd, down the freeway, the more the truck changed. it became plastic and small, and finally, to my eyes, the color and the size of one of those shopping carts with the toy car from that like to sit in. My legs were so big, no matte r how much I compressed, my toes would lift the front of the vehicle. I was too large hehe. So at the next traffic jam, I simply exited to an access ladder (now in a tunnel). From here I made my way back, as I then woke.
(One of the funny things was all these characters had so much wealth. and me none. But I could give myself clothes like theirs, create cars for a time to drive. It was important I be like them, so we were all at ease. not look hungry, or starving, not worry them with what I might try to take, or be a supplicant to be employed or used. I was unbound and that was key...so I can edit and examine and file my changes. Without clueing them in. lol) And really, I wasn’t more impoverished. None of them had a depth like a bank account behind the wonders and terrors. hehe