Trans-species telepathy – Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul.

Whilst the Moon transited Aquarius and my ninth house, it proved the most hysterically luciferous of dreams. I would on Monday, September 3, 1990 dream the most insightful of dreams which was the first dream that day.

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I encountered a gibbon, another animal of some sort and a weasel. Perhaps, if not a weasel, it was a beaver or a groundhog. A dark brown-coated animal it was.

They were furred animals that could manipulate with their front legs/hand-like paws – all three of these animals. It was an interesting animal. I think it may even have been an oversized raccoon. They were, at night time, on a walled ledge.

When looking at them, the gibbon was on the far right. This very antsy weasel, or whatever it was, was to the far left.

Across the road, from the animal contestants, was a White woman standing who was conducting a test. It was like a lottery that was being televised.

It was really a scam because they would ask questions of the animals. Needless to say, the poor creatures wouldn’t have a clue. They would just sit there very dumbfounded such that it was all a big joke.

The resultant prize, a rather sizeable jackpot, would go up higher. It was like a motivational thing – maybe one day when it went up so high then one of the animals would finally blurt out the answer.

The question was being posed to the respective furred contestants,

“What did all three species have in common?”

I knew that it had nothing to do with the fact that they each had tails or fur. Too, it was being asked of different people. Immediately, I knew the answer and got very excited.

I knew that the correct answer was that they were all carnivores. I even went and was trying to put in for the creatures. However, as a human it was unfair of me, I couldn’t intervene.

Alas, as soon as the question was asked down off the wall jumped the little weasel character. It did not even know the goddamn answer but went greedily running up and making faces.

It excitedly gesticulated and showed off that it had hands that were not unlike a human’s. The excitable creature began clapping to prove that he was very humanlike.

It was pathetic really. It was just a greedy, greedy little fucker.

At one point, I looked over my left shoulder back at the gibbon and it rolled its eyes as if to say,

’Really… such a greedy, little fucker. Why doesn’t he just come back and play dumb like everybody else?’

This was quite the shrewd insight, to have gained, of the animal kingdom’s take on us ofttimes absurdist, fur-depilated bipedal simians.

’Can’t he see how fucked up humans are? If we did not realise what a mess humans were we’d already be talking ourselves.’

This gibbon had such a regal face. Whilst it was deliberately being very telepathic, it knew that I was able to discern its thoughts.

That was why I had looked over my shoulder and back in its direction in the first place. It was so intelligent and so extremely funny.

I was telepathically communicating with these animals. Finally, I was able to psychically connect with this busy-bodied/mind creature. I told it that the answer was, in fact, carnivore.

As soon as it learnt this, the creature immediately began panting and gritting its teeth in a masticating manner. It just got so overly excited that it was really too funny.

It wanted to be the one to get it right but the poor creature just did not know how to verbally communicate it. I suggested to it that, perhaps, it could write the answer since it couldn’t speak.

So immediately the little pathetic fucker wanted me to teach it how to write… on the spot. It was so impatient that it began trying to bark – shout – carnivore which just sounded like it was miserably choking on a giant fur ball.

It was so pathetic. However, this merely proved more entertainment for the humans. More than that, what was really funny was seeing the way the gibbon was rolling its eyes and being very bored by it all.

The gibbon then telepathically imparted to me,

’I don’t know which is worse, these goddamn humans or this pathetic little creature.’

It was very funny. There was a great connectedness and dialogue between this gibbon and me.

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Photo: Aged Baboon.

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This dream occurred, on Friday, May 1, 1998, whilst I then lived in Montréal. The Moon was in Cancer thereby transiting my second house. It was sheer joy to have encountered Merlin’s playful spirit which was fully engaged as the trickster – the exalted dream shaman.

Once inside the house, I laid low for awhile and then got up to explore. I do know that Pandora da Braga was on an upper level of the dwelling.

A little boy was outside in a stroller. Above all else, there was no way of getting around one fact… this was a supremely intelligent child. White, his hair was sandy-blond.

Naturally, he was regimented into a blue jumpsuit denoting his sex. His legs were fat and there was, of course, the bulkiness of his being diapered.

The back of this boy’s knees were dimpled, fat and very cherubic a body was his. His stroller sat on a paved walkway.

Two or three steps from the house’s landing led to the yard. His back was turned to the yard’s six-foot-high, wooden fence of pale wood that was treated to be weather resistant.

As it had some traces of cyanide in it, the wood had an off-green hue to it. Seated there, his left profile was closer to the house as I looked outside at him.

Whilst I absently worked at something, he inquisitively looked in at me. I held up the bottled water that I had been drinking, extending it out the window, as if to offer him a drink.

He was keenly adept at the art of telepathy but feigned ignorance – as well he ought to have, as someone might have had him dismissed for mad. Goodness knows, it would only take one superstitious adult to then have this young child declared demon-possessed because of his gifts.

Whoever he is, it was quite good to have connected with this august-souled young man. Cocking me a look, he sized me up letting me know that he knew that I was playing games with him that he was not ignorant of.

I was floored by his candour. He was a real cheeky devil who soon managed his way out of his stroller’s harness. Since he was much too young to be walking, knowing that this was the dreamtime, he did the logical thing.

He shapeshifted and suddenly became a cat. Thus, he magically acquired the stealth and agility which his paucity of human age and physical growth denied him. I was blown away for not even I would have thought of such a magus move.

Once transformed, he became a large white cat which came up and quietly snuck into the house. This was the sort of move that could readily have tricked and unhinged a lesser mortal, in this situation, but I was aware that it was him all along.

Turning around, only briefly, I had lost sight of him but caught his drifting tail as he sneaked around a corner. I was not, indeed, going to be hoodwinked.

Roaring aloud, thrilled by the child’s brilliant display of both wit and magus energy, I went chasing after the cat. Like the child that it represented, the cat bolted rushing through the house by going downstairs.

Eventually, it settled on a pile of crates. The crates were off in a far, darkened corner of the basement. Though a large, multiple-roomed house, the basement was not partitioned. It was simply a large open space.

In the form of the water heater, heat and air conditioning systems, the usual signs of normalcy were present. Nothing here could have proven a fire hazard.

Through which the cat could come and go as he pleased, the crates comfortably sat just beneath a tiny basement window. The window proved, in fact, an air duct which was shared with another of the house’s many rooms.

Clever though he was, I was not fooled by his cheeky little act. A large white tom, it had a fat rump on it. A pure snow-white cat it was. Addressing it as the precocious boy that I knew it to be, I called out to the tom.

I told him to be careful, being so high up on those crates, to not hurt himself. To my surprise, he cockily shot back, sounding every bit like Merlin when speaking in his duxypuss voice,

“Oh come on, I’m a puss!”

I roared, blown away by the playfulness. In one sure leap, it leapt through the opening and headed upstairs. Just like that, he was out of sight. He had flashed the tail at me just before taking flight.

I was stunned by his wicked playfulness. This kid had me dismissed as a real pushover. Not missing a beat, I went running upstairs calling out to Pandora as I did.

I told Pandora to keep her eye on that cat – I did not want it to get away. When I came up, Pandora asked what cat I was talking about. There was no cat in the house, she was confident, nor was there one normally.

To my surprise, the little devil had shapeshifted again and returned to his original state by becoming a rather precocious human child. There he was holding the same bottled water that I had previously offered him.

He sat there, hungrily gulping down the water, all the while looking at me as though he had never laid eyes on me before. Indeed, quite the cheeky little imp. The sight of him only made me roar even more.

I couldn’t believe his brilliance. It was such refreshing magic.

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Photo: White domestic short-haired cat & Buster sporting Lion cut.

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Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul.

Tag: Trans-species telepathy

These Goddamn Humans.

You Cheeky Little Imp!