These next dreams were audio-recorded on cassette two hundred and fourteen and to be found in volume XXII of the dream opus when published. At the time, it was Saturday, June 15, 1996 and the Moon then transited both Gemini and my first house.
There were two sleep cycles that day; chiefly, this was the case because it was a Saturday. More than that, I tended towards multiple sleep cycles because on awaking I would remain in bed to record the dreams. More often than not, while still in bed, I would then resort to reading, incessantly talking on the phone or indulging in protracted auto-eroticism. All three activities usually left one inclined towards slipping back into sleeps warm embrace.
Without the distraction of television – a vacuous medium that I have never favoured, I was more often than not likely to return to sleep. Besides, television-watching is nothing more than sleeping while awake; one is merely being mind-controlled and rendered vegetative, inert…unfocussed. Charmant.
Speaking of being mind-controlled, the next dreams deal with just such a phenomenon. However, in this case, it addressed the phenomenon as it pertains to human and extra-human relations. The first dream was a rather insightful one.
As ever, sweet dreams and for your support, I am grateful. I love you more!
Here, in this the first dream, it was sunny out. I found myself in the most marvellous pastoral landscape. I stood by a growth of the most glorious tall trees. The vibration here was so very Zen.
Although it seemed pastorally Bavarian, this seemed to have been somewhere here in North America. Just beyond where I stood, there was some commotion in the woods.
The people there were really concerned; they thought that there was something slightly suspect about the vibrations. Then I saw a beautiful, incredibly aerodynamic, midnight blue-to-black car.
The car was shaped not unlike the Bat mobile, in the Batman movies, though it much more aerodynamic. Soon, it became abundantly evident that it wasn’t really of this age, time or even of Earth.
Someone spoke up and asked if it was not an EHV (extra-human vehicle or UFO). My suggestion was that it would be most unusual to find an EHV that small in size. What would be the point of hazarding the exigencies of space travel, as it were, in such a tiny bubble?
The car then began going down the road and crossed my field of vision from right to left. Indeed, the futuristic car was really in back of where I had been standing. At the time, I had been looking at the field ahead and being completely energised by it.
Pushing back the horizon some, a beautiful rolling plain stretched out before me. The grass zinged with more negative ions than usual. Standing there, while drinking in the rejuvenating essence of the inspiring landscape, I flew without moving.
In the midst of moving down the road, the car suddenly took to the air. This indeed was no human technology. Now I knew why the locals had expressed cause for concern. This was clearly a piece of EH technology.
The next question to my mind was who then were the EHs among us? The car had a rudder but I can’t now recall whether it was on the rear or front hood. Strangely enough, the rudder was not on the underside of the car but above the hood.
The EHV shuttle had sprouted the rudder-like appendage on lifting off. I am almost certain that the rudder was in the front of the car. The rudder-like extension was a guidance system’s antenna or radar.
A honing devise of some sort it possibly was which was, somehow, connected to something that was much beyond our immediate perception. Perhaps, whatever it was had been stationed in another dimension.
Naturally, self-preservation-cum-fear had all the locals immediately fleeing in a mad dash. I suppose that I really ought not to have but I also did the same. While fleeing, I looked off to the right down to a lower road and along the field.
There, I saw Óli Þór; this man has a decided animus towards me – his problem. Considering his animus towards me, I passingly thought that he likely was an extra-human mole among us.
What one intuited was that there were persons among us who, though seemed human enough, were extra-humans with a ton of biogenetic implants. Basically, they were extra-human-grown humans who were hybrid extra-humans.
Their task in the world was to serve as sentinels for their off-planet species. This I was told by my astral plane guides. Additionally, it was made clear to me that this was more common than not. Apparently, extra-humans preferred to go planetside on an alien planet during the dimension of the dreamtime.
The dreamtime was said to comprise several levels of realities and dimensions with which humans were not yet familiar. This was seen as all-around much more expedient and, from the standpoint of the waking state, the chances of inimical repercussions were nil.
For instance, it was possible for some extra-humans to implant humans. This was done not in the waking state but rather in what was considered the dreamtime.
This was possible on humans and most other unaware species which were not yet spacefaring. Apparently, there was a veil that was crossed when one became a spacefaring species and began interacting with other species.
At such time, when a species made the transition from a planetary to a spacefaring civilisation, these other DRs (Dimensional Realities) became known to the newly emergent spacefaring species. Rare it was, though not impossible, to perform waking state abductions for reasons of creating implants and hybrid species; however, this was not necessary since DR (Dimensional Reality) made it possible.
There were, though, some species which excelled at physical plane interstellar travel and exclusively did perform abductions. These species tended to collect species samples and as such they the collected samples were proven invaluable; such abductor species did trade among some species in abducted species and hybridised species that could prove beneficial for either trade or scientific research.
Resultantly, such an abductor extra-human species could supply another species with sample humans or human hybrids. This abducted human commodity could be used when traded for medicinal reasons, as food, exotica or labour.
Humans, or any other such non-spacefaring species, were non-the-wiser for losing a few of their lot to such abductions. Normally, the species which tended to abduct did so because they had a propensity towards indexing and cataloguing. This they undertook by way of creating living museums for newly discovered sentient species.
If need be, they could then farm such species on synthetic worlds that mirrored the abducted species’ homeworld. The farmed abductees could then be harvested for trade to several species for labour, medicine or food.
Callous though it would seem, I was assured by my guides that there were multiple synthetic mirror worlds where abductees were reared and harvested. Voilà… there you have it.
Naturally, there was a culture of rogue species which made it their business to capture such synthetic worlds. They sought out these synthetic mirror worlds to get the lion’s share of the valuable, farmed extra-human cargo.
In essence, these species would be pirates who interrupted trade and waged wars to just such ends.
*Enfin, plus que ça change, change jamais be it on a global or galactic scale. END.
In any event, such implants allowed the extra-humans to monitor their sentinels from anywhere in the known universes. Again, I was assured by the astral guide with me, that this was possible thanks to the expediencies that DR afforded during the conduit of the dreamtime.
Thus, whenever one of their sentinels was in the dreamtime, it was perfectly possible for the spacefaring extra-humans to monitor what was going on Earth. A very interesting proposition it was.
To say the least, their sentinels were dream adepts thanks to their implants. These persons didn’t necessarily know that they were extra-human implants or for that matter ever recalled their dreams. The latter, I was assured was more often than not the norm than the rule.
*So, don’t you even continue thinking for one nanosecond,
“You see, so he is one of those extra-human hybrids with the DR implant!”
I am on to you! I am perfectly human; for being older-souled, I merely use more of the brain than most as this is predominantly a young-souled world. Too, I am as I am thanks to having chosen to be dream-focussed in this lifetime. END.
Cutting across the open field, on fleeing the possible outbreak of inimical extra-human activity, we all moved from left to right. We had had to hastily move from a higher plane to another.
Who should pass on my left as I fled but Patrick Loews which left me flabbergasted. I could not believe my eyes; here was he overtaking me when in excess of 250 pounds.
For being in shape in the waking state, while running here in the dreamtime, I felt really good and in control. What chiefly I noticed was that I had increased stamina; this was probably why it hadn’t occurred to me to have simply pushed off and flown away.
Then I made the most ghastly discovery, Patrick had been an abductee. Khaki pants and white shirt were all well and fine; he, however, was not wearing shoes.
Barefooted, I noticed that there was definitely something askance with Patrick. His feet had been cut off, just above the ankles, then reattached. As a result, he ran with the heels in the front and the toes in the back.
Definitely, there were little shades of Kansas here.
Running forwards, yet his feet facing back, he was a truly surreal sight. More than Patrick’s anatomically-challenged body, the sight of those pinned-on-backwards feet were a truly bizarre actuality.
Patrick, it can be said, possesses an ectomorphically-challenged body. Following the crowds took me to a residential area where we arrived at a beautiful collegiate complex.
Clearly, it was a private school much like Eton or Upper Canada College. There were some High-Yellow kids but mostly Whites and East Asians. This was a school for wealthy kids. One had a sense that it was somewhere in England.
An ancient stone balustrade was covered with moss and served as the favourite hangout of the school kids. There was one High-Yellow girl who was quite captivating; she really turned me on.
She was talking about the upcoming marathon. Apparently, there was a mile-long marathon being run around a course. I immediately set out on the course and was, in fact, in the lead from the outset.
When I was fleeing to the residential area, I ran into a woman who much reminded me of my first cousin, Maya do Aragão. She had been the one to get the marathon started by firing the starter gun. Allen Weston was there as well.
I had assumed that for being taller, Allen would have outrun me. I had kept up my pace, however, and he had never overtaken me. Then at the end of eight laps, I stopped to ask exactly how many laps we were expected to complete.
I explained that I had assumed that it would be a two-lap race. Since everyone kept on running, I explained that so did I. Yet, it seemed to me that no one quite knew what they were doing. Was it in fact a ten-lap marathon?
I was convinced that two laps was a mile as we ran through the narrow, old world streets of a fairly large, old English town. Although there were times that it seemed as if one were running in Sandy Point, St. Kitts, I didn’t quite know where I was.
Then, at one point, I came onto a street where there I saw Gita Gurucharan as she walked to a bus stop. We were both debating whether or not we ought to have interacted with the other.
By this part of the marathon, I was on a bike and no longer running laps. Looking down at my spandex-suited body, I became suddenly self-conscious.
Somehow, I thought that Gita would think that I was sick with HIV or AIDS. Clearly, I had lost weight since she had last seen me; understandably, this would be cause for her to have thought the worse when considering how and of what Merlin had died.
In the end, I really didn’t care. Gita took the initiative and came over and warmly greeted me. I briefly paused, since I didn’t want to lose my place or focus in the marathon.
She said that she was now working professionally but no longer in the acting world. Then I asked after Srivatsan Gurucharan, her son, even though I had only met him the one time.
*In August 1991 when he was four months old and suffering colic and felt like the oldest-souled person that I had ever encountered, I first met Srivatsan. After having met him, I had the most massive simultaneous stomach and head aches then went home and uncontrollably wept. Strangely, at the time, I had no clue why I had responded as I had. END.
I explained to her that I have had more dreams of Srivatsan than even of Bipasha Gurucharan, his older sister. Indeed, I added, I almost never dream of Bipasha.
Gita laughed before announcing that Srivatsan was such a little terror to which we both laughed. I told her that more often than not, whenever I dreamt of Srivatsan, he was with her rather than his father, Oberon Samuelson.
Gita then said that she thought that was an interesting take on things because she and Srivatsan do get along rather well. Standing there in the dream and lucidly self-aware, I fully believed her.
Then Gita gave me a handful of mail that had been sent to us, Merlin and me, as well as my family. She announced that she was on her way to work; by that, she meant that she worked for the post office.
Wearing my black turtleneck, I placed the mail inside the GAP turtleneck close to my neck. Seeing that the mail would only get soaked from my profuse sweating, I went and asked the same High-Yellow beauty how many more laps there were. She said that there were 34 laps in all.
Indeed, it may have been naïve of me to have taken her word at face value. I soon realised that she and her clique were upset that I was the race’s frontrunner. They may simply have allowed the race to have indefinitely continued on indefinitely to exhaust undesirables like me.
During our interaction, the young High-Yellow was really snooty with me. Truth be told, there was an entire lap between the person in second position and me. Something had gone wrong for Allen Weston who had had to stop for a long time.
He had been, to that point, running in second position. I decided that since I had such a commanding lead in the race, I should perhaps have just headed home and dropped off the mail.
Since I had not had anything to eat, I thought that there was no way that I could have gone for all 34 laps on an empty stomach. I needed to at least have gotten home, dropped off the mail and bulked up on some food.
En route to making it home, I had had to go beneath an overpass. The darkness created by the overpass had caused me to blackout and eventually awaken.
I went off into a patch with a man, in this the first dream, beneath a dense growth of tall ancient-looking trees. The dream was set at nighttime. He went off to an open area and invited me with him.
Soon, we were digging our fingers into the soft plush earth and coming up with all manner of food. I had even managed to have gotten some green peppers – and large ones too, from the ground.
I was really pleased to have made the discovery. What’s more, the ground was very warm with the dark rich earth letting off steam at times.
*The only reason for having dreamt of food, which I ate ravenously, was because of the Safeway strike in the waking state. This has meant that I have not been eating all that well – with regards getting the usual fresh fruits and vegetables. END.
I hungrily ate the lettuce. He then pointed out that that was not all that there was. He said that I would not believe the size of the potatoes. The peppers were so large and, for being as warm as they were, were juicy on biting into them.
The potatoes turned out to have been the biggest things imaginable; they looked more like cantaloupes than not. The potatoes looked almost animalistic. There were tubers that sprouted from them.
The more that we dug up, the more that they looked like watermelons in size than not. They were so appetising-looking that I straightaway began biting into one of them and hungrily ate it.
Making a feast of things, I simply collapsed on the ground and began chomping down.
*I awoke from this dream, called up Liam Sommers – after having recorded the dreams, and demanded that we head out to Granville Island and shop for the real healthy organic fare. We had a great time too. END.
Photo credits: stock photo concept car
Stock photo extra-large peppers
Suhail Mubeen – Certified numerologist & Vedic astrologer.
© 2014 Arvin da Braga. All Rights Reserved.