Joined: 03 Apr 2004 Posts: 85 Location: red shift space,
Thanks: 1
Thanked:0
Circus Escape Scenario Posted: 04-03-04 05:25am
Surveying the psychology literature, they
have a pretty good fix on me,
(schizotypality) - they know about my
problem with the cops (and they're right
about that one 'cause it goes away when
i'm on seroquel), and they concoct a name
and call it a disease that describes
wanting to escape from the circus,
enjoying freedom; "if we can't control him
because he doesn't want anything we have,
then it's a disease..."; "if he's willing
to frighten us or tease us, it's a
disease..."; they accuse me of personal
importance, so I have to make every effort
to show humility; they accuse me of
magical thinking, and they're just jealous
i'm magical, but humility should be able
to hide that as well... I think I have
created a safe haven for myself that the
psychiatric authorities won't be able to
touch: I see that they are watching out
for and afraid of the "flattened or
constricted affect", and unusual manner of
dress; I have that when I 'set the demons
free', but I can also give them their
"smiles" that they seem so desperate for
to set them at ease, if I want to. I have
been working on emulating normal society
since I was in second grade, as a shield
for myself, now it's perfectly
undetectable if I choose it to be so. I
call it the "shaman's empty scarecrow",
and behind that I am free to escape,
undetected, can be a shaman and a
sorcerer, camoflauged by the scarecrow of
typicality. And I can "come up" from
within that and take over at any moment,
while the police aren't watching. I play
a game, it's kind of part comedy show,
part sociological experiment, it's called
"testing for justice", (and most fail the
test.)
counselor: "but we don't want you to
suffer so, how can you be happy in that
kind of a life that we see you are
living?"
defendant: (calm, self-possessed, smiling
slightly, speaking slowly...) i'm a nazi
now. And I am a child rapist. There's a
ten story building I have stuffed to the
roof with the rotting carcasses of dead
animals more varied than noah's arc, and
at the center I kill children in their
underwear and eat their hearts, then
regurgitate them in the demon world. The
power that I have accumulated from this
has made me a supreme court justice and a
tele-evangelist; I photograph the faces of
each of my victims and post the pictures
on my teeth, one victim's face per tooth,
and now I have the rest of the evening to
do what I want with you!"
counselor: "i don't see any faces on your
teeth..."
defendant: "aw, that must be so horrible
for you, to live in a world of delusional
seclusion - you can't see the spirit world
all around you. Well I don't want you to
suffer, maybe I can offer you a chemical
lobotomy...."
and, having been sitting closer to the
door than they are, the defendant gets up
and runs away.
Rudolph's red nose and aversion to
materialism, is not, as you would first
think, 'qualitatively' different from the
other regular reindeers, the
'worldly-minded camarilla', rather it's
only a 'quantitative' difference, only
matters of degree different from the
black-nosed deer and regular materialist
attitude.
Therefore, the shine that makes rudolph's
nose glow, if carried to it's logical
conclusion, would burn him up and destroy
him... ("i'm on fire !")...
And if he douses that nose of his with
mud, he'll be allowed to play in all the
reindeer games, but then he sounds so
nasal!
So keep the fire burnin', but keep it in
the campfire circle - don't let the forest
burn down.
It turns out all consciousness is illness,
and the more ill, the more conscious we
are; the brighter the campfire, the more
risk of the flames rushing out of
control....
|
lollipop4u
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 30 Jun 2004 Posts: 79 Location: pottsboro
Onderdonk Is Mentally Sadistic !!! Posted: 06-30-04 10:17am
I will pray for you ... When you pray
for someone ... An angel goes ... And
... Sits on the shoulder of that person
!!! Now ... Can you tune in ... A
little better ... To your angel
??? Laura
surveying the psychology
literature, they have a pretty good fix on
me, (schizotypality) - they know about my
problem with the cops (and they're right
about that one 'cause it goes away when
i'm on seroquel), and they concoct a name
and call it a disease that describes
wanting to escape from the circus,
enjoying freedom; "if we can't control him
because he doesn't want anything we have,
then it's a disease..."; "if he's willing
to frighten us or tease us, it's a
disease..."; they accuse me of personal
importance, so I have to make every effort
to show humility; they accuse me of
magical thinking, and they're just jealous
i'm magical, but humility should be able
to hide that as well... I think I have
created a safe haven for myself that the
psychiatric authorities won't be able to
touch: I see that they are watching out
for and afraid of the "flattened or
constricted affect", and unusual manner of
dress; I have that when I 'set the demons
free', but I can also give them their
"smiles" that they seem so desperate for
to set them at ease, if I want to. I
have been working on emulating normal
society since I was in second grade, as a
shield for myself, now it's perfectly
undetectable if I choose it to be so. I
call it the "shaman's empty scarecrow",
and behind that I am free to escape,
undetected, can be a shaman and a
sorcerer, camoflauged by the scarecrow of
typicality. And I can "come up" from
within that and take over at any moment,
while the police aren't watching. I play
a game, it's kind of part comedy show,
part sociological experiment, it's called
"testing for justice", (and most fail the
test.)
counselor: "but we don't want you to
suffer so, how can you be happy in that
kind of a life that we see you are
living?"
defendant: (calm, self-possessed, smiling
slightly, speaking slowly...) i'm a nazi
now. And I am a child rapist. There's
a ten story building I have stuffed to the
roof with the rotting carcasses of dead
animals more varied than noah's arc, and
at the center I kill children in their
underwear and eat their hearts, then
regurgitate them in the demon world. The
power that I have accumulated from this
has made me a supreme court justice and a
tele-evangelist; I photograph the faces of
each of my victims and post the pictures
on my teeth, one victim's face per tooth,
and now I have the rest of the evening to
do what I want with you!"
counselor: "i don't see any faces on your
teeth..."
defendant: "aw, that must be so horrible
for you, to live in a world of delusional
seclusion - you can't see the spirit world
all around you. Well I don't want you to
suffer, maybe I can offer you a chemical
lobotomy...."
and, having been sitting closer to the
door than they are, the defendant gets up
and runs away.
Rudolph's red nose and aversion to
materialism, is not, as you would first
think, 'qualitatively' different from the
other regular reindeers, the
'worldly-minded camarilla', rather it's
only a 'quantitative' difference, only
matters of degree different from the
black-nosed deer and regular materialist
attitude.
Therefore, the shine that makes rudolph's
nose glow, if carried to it's logical
conclusion, would burn him up and destroy
him... ("i'm on fire !")...
And if he douses that nose of his with
mud, he'll be allowed to play in all the
reindeer games, but then he sounds so
nasal!
So keep the fire burnin', but keep it in
the campfire circle - don't let the forest
burn down.
It turns out all consciousness is illness,
and the more ill, the more conscious we
are; the brighter the campfire, the more
risk of the flames rushing out of
control....
i am very concerned about this. You
obviously have a lot of things on your
mind and they wont go away. All I would
like to say is I know a lot of people who
expereince what you are going through and
I would like to tell you it will get
better but it may not. You just need to
enjoy your life. You have been blessed
with the gift of life even though we do
not appreciate it sometimes. Go and do
what you feel like doing. You need to
find something to occupy your mind if you could do
that then maybe the bad thoughts would
disapear. :d I hope you reply as I would
like to know how you get on.
|
ONDERDONK
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 03 Apr 2004 Posts: 85 Location: red shift space,
Thanks: 1
Thanked:0
I'm the (w) Onderdonk (ey) !!! Posted: 06-30-04 12:28pm
Twenty-one years later, heart loaded with
miracles and prayers,
he sets off racing forward into memory
like an ambulance without illusions
to rescue his own source from the context
he resides in,
numbing the treasures of pain and pleasure
with a fatigued wisdom,
glad to be alive.
"i am supernatural. A rainbow cut through
me and left me for dead,
but I live again in the vapor of your
lungs,
in the wishes of your passtime; free,
free to roam the hills forever; I call out
to the wild
and sometimes it answers back in poems
full of symbols that harrow the darkness.
Home is where the heart is, but when the
heart is ripped out of you,
home is where you wish to be, and you go
there.
I left behind lives rich with meaning and
varied hues,
but they still ring out in the night
and shine with a light brighter that
anything on earth.
Go I will, back to the solitude of my
country,
where I will project my stories full of
wisdom and energy,
and I will expect you to understand."
don't worry, don't be scared, i'm not
"evil", I get on ok. I'm a traveling
computer networking instructor in the us,
in omaha, nebraska this week. I'm
schizotypal, not schizophrenic, which
means I have "optional schizophrenia", or
"schizophrenia lite"; I just turn it on
when I want to for entertainment. For my
job iu play the role of a normal person
who cares about computers and finance and
the mundane world. But when I travel on
twenty-four hour bus rides across the
country, I turn on my shamanic journey
drumming tape and travel the universe,
conversing with the spirits! Dangerous
game...
What is "evil"? I’ve been thinking
about this for a while. After 9/11, there
was a pbs special: “what is
evil?” and watching it, I thought,
‘no, they don’t
understand’; a book on the topic was
published since, as well as several
newspaper essays, when the kids blew up
columbine, but I haven’t seen an
explanation yet that rings true for me. I
wonder if I understand. (i wonder what
you think of my explanation…)
there’s “akrasia”,
(“akratic action is an action
against an intention to perform an action
of a particular type here and now, the
most challenging species of incontinent
action.”) this doesn’t really
interest me; its just lack of self-control
of the human appetites. I think
there’s much more to evil. Akratic
action is the human will pushed by
external stresses into what it wished to
avoid. Demonic action is the religion of
evil.
When I read the newspaper and I feel like
becoming enraged, I amaze myself at the
one-sidedness of all the news coverage
– a sniper starts killing people,
and all the newscasts say he’s the
bad guy. Maybe i’m the
world’s most open-minded liberal,
but it seems to me it’s a difference
of opinion – some guy says certain
people should die, others say they should
have lived. How can everyone be so sure
who’s right, if they’re really
objective and honest? It’s usually
just a difference of opinion or conflict
over access to resources. Russian 19th
century radicals argued that a legality
based on property rights (such as our
culture takes for granted) is evil,
contrasting it with a healthy tight-knit
simple society in the woods.
Then there’s the quote I have by a
survivor of the nazi concentration camps
who won the nobel prize for literature a
couple of years ago, well worth
considering:
“…and please stop saying that
auschwitz cannot be explained, the product
of irrational, incomprehensible forces,
because there is always an explanation for
wrong doing: its quite possible that satan
himself, like iago, is irrational; his
creations, however, are rational creatures
indeed; their every action is as soluble
as a mathematical formula: it can be
solved by reference to an interest, greed,
sloth, desire for power, lust, or
cowardice, to one or another
self-indulgence, and if to nothing else,
then, finally to some madman, paranoia,
sadism, lust, masochism, demiurgic or
other megalomania, necrophilia, or –
what do I know – some other
perversity or perhaps to all of them
simultaneously. On the other hand, and
this is important, what is really
irrational and what truly cannot be
explained is not evil but, contrarily, the
good.”
but years ago I found a line in buddhism
that captured my imagination: the buddha
said “look around you. Except for
action for the purpose of sacrifice, all
men are constrained to action; therefore,
act free from attachment, for no
reason.”
in the mid-80’s I met belial, the
unholy spirit, and the religion of evil.
I got it from early megadeth, early
metallica, mid-to-late death, middle
entombed, and vision of disorder
(that’s all 80’s and
90’s stuff, I guess these days
it’s linkin park). Anyway, the
difference here is the irrational element;
evil as religious practice.
“killer, intruder, homicidal man, if
you see me coming run fast as you can;
bloodthirsty demon is stalking the
streets, I hack up my victims like pieces
of meat; bloodthirsty demon, sinister
fiend; bludgeonous slaughter, my evil
deed… my hammer’s a cold piece
of blood-lethal steel, I laugh as you
writhe in the pain that I deal; swinging
my hammer I hack through your head, bodies
in line, next to be dead, I unleash my
hammer, with sadistic intent. Pounding,
surrounding, slamming through your
head… yeah!… bodies to rot in
agony and pain, I mangle their face till
no features remain, a bread for the
butchering I cut them to shreds, first
take out the organs then cut off their
heads! Remains of the butchering sop
under my feet, one more bloody massacre
this homicide’s complete. I seek to
dismember, a sadist fiend;
bloodbath’s my way of getting clean!
I lurk in the alley, wait for the
kill…. I have no remorse for the
blood that I spill… a merciless
butcher who lives underground, i’m
out to destroy and I will cut you
down… I see you, and i’m
waiting… for black friday!”
megadeth sold a lot of albums. I went to
several concerts – it was like a
cult.
Around that time I came up with the
concept of doing ‘good deeds for the
purpose of evil’, and announcing it
this way after the fact. Working extra
hours, being extra helpful – I once
caught a bank robber in new york city,
when I was a bike messenger. I had to
testify in front of the grand jury. The
da was thrilled, and when it came to
asking why I had bothered to help, I
really freaked her out. (about half the
people I said this to were really upset by
it, the other half were simple
pragmatists.) I once told my wife about
this concept, and said I had stored my
good deeds that day in the eggs in our
refrigerator, where I would convert them
to evil overnight and then offer them to
satan in the morning. My wife cried, took
all the eggs out of the refrigerator and
then threw them out the 4th floor
apartment window on to the sidewalk below.
I said ‘no problem, i’ll just
do more good deeds tomorrow’, and
that just drover her crazy.
I know what you mean, edge, about the
quotes from neighbors on the news –
“ I can’t believe I lived next
door to someone who was capable of such a
thing”, and like you I always think
to myself, “well, i’m capable,
and i’m right here!” vertigo
of possibility, sartre called it; all the
knives in this restaurant could be used to
create quite the bloody mess. I reserve
the right to kill everybody. I even
fantasize when venting the reptilian core
of my mind, (see the last short story I
posted up here, called “this
one’ll get me censored”), but
I also realize that there’d be
consequences to my actions, (that’s
the cortex overcoming the core).
Shakespeare’s line is “let him
fly; the curses he shall have, the
tortures he shall feel, will break the
back of man, the heart of
monster”.
When I was bike messenger in new york
city, I once noticed a huge group of cops
in uniform, maybe a hundred or so, their
backs to the public, as they participated
in some sort of ceremony on park ave.
Vertigo of possibility – one bike
messenger with an automatic weapon to the
backs of all their heads, what a ruckus
that’d cause! And then he gets away
on the bike in all the confusion of a city
he knows the ins and outs of so well! And
all for no reason! That’s evil.
But is it human, edge? (this is where
i’m going to get a little
weird…)
i realize the following reasoning is
somewhat akin to ‘the devil made me
do it’, necessarily dismissed by a
pragmatic culture, but see what you
think…
i have a long-term pet psychosis, which
serves me well: I have two souls, one
human and one demon. The demon soul was
implanted in me in a brutal demon
abduction that happened when I was 5, and
I remember it vividly to this day –
it’s like the stories of ufo
abductions. The demon put his two hands
inside my back, moving my internal organs
around wildly. I now have two families:
my “real” family (a mother, a
brother, two sisters), and my
“demon” family, in the demon
world. I exist in both worlds
simultaneously. (i’m not alone in
this “psychosis”; it’s a
worldwide, time-honored traditional
concept of shamanism – they call it
their “shamanic community”)
in the demon world my family and I do much
more than just evil. We live together in
a commune, work together, help eachother;
but we also go on killing safaris against
other demons and humans, as simply
considered there as if humans here were to
go on vacation, stand in a stream, and go
fishing. It’s a cult our commune is
a part of – we plant black holes in
the universe and detonate them during
wartime in the demon world. We kill like
monsters, not ‘moral people’;
we are the source of cancer in people
(we’re just playing a game with you,
really. It’s a test, on how you
manage your immune system).
At this point you may think i’ve
gone off the deep end, because in our
culture, the people are fond of saying the
‘demons’ aren’t real;
“flesh and blood, flesh and blood,
nothing else is real!” (duh!) the
demons say the people aren’t real.
But I think both sides are lying, as would
any two sides at war with eachother over
worldly resources may well be expected to
do. Because I am a shaman, and straddle
both worlds, and my spiritual guide is the
universe itself, which holds both light
and dark like a big yin-yang symbol
– made up of brilliant balls of
light and vast swaths of darkness, as well
as the ultimately dark ‘black
holes’ – I let my being be the
unification of the opposites. Light and
dark. Demon world and human world.
Knowing all this, I watched a special on a
kid who who and killed some other kids at
his school. I found there was a huge lack
of understanding in the courtroom:
his mother had ‘left him
behind’ when he was very young
– he thinks that’s why it all
happened; I think he’s onto
something, but it’s much more
complex.
He said “i don’t know what
happened in my core”; here’s
what I think happened – a
schizotypal person pursues mysteries of
every kind and composes solutions;
he’s a mystagogue, a hierophant.
And shamans know that the scene of a
hierophany opens a hole between the
worlds. God can look down, and demons can
crawl up through the hole. Graham nash
(“a beautiful mind”) was
working on mathematical mysteries, and
several characters came out to haunt him
with their unreal stories. I’ve
seen may schizophrenia patients in the
hospitals completely given over to these
demons that come out from this hole at the
center of the mind, the ‘gates of
hell’, the demon world. I know
these demons well, but I use my own energy
to keep them caged, so that I can hold a
job and pass through society accessing
resources without anyone suspecting. But
it does take energy. And energy
fluctuates in life. Stressful situations
tax the energy supply, and the prison
walls in the mind can falter, can even
collapse.
The kid in court admitted that he had
smiled as he shot down his classmates.
“were you crazy?” a tv
interviewer asked. “i don’t
think so – that’s not the
word,” he said, “it’s
more like an out of body
experience.” he said he smiled
because he ‘belonged’. He
‘belonged’ to the spirit of
evil, the demon world. There had been a
humiliation by a teacher. The shield went
down during the subsequent energy drop,
and the demon world leaked out –
“all hell broke loose”.
“was it bullying?”, the
interviewer asked. He looked surprised
– “of course not.” he
had put linkin park lyrics in his farewell
letter.
He says he’s sorry, and cries, and
says it was worse on his side of the gun
– even he doesn’t
understand.
The concept of unity, like the yin-yang
symbol in taoism, (which grew out of
eastern shamanism), actually pre-dates the
rather recent attempted splitting of
mankind’s nature into
‘good’ and ‘evil’,
which first occurred in zoroastrianism,
and evolved into the
judeo-christian-islamic culture much of
our world is caught up in today.
For me, the universe we are so graciously
presented with is the truest
‘bible’, and in astrophysics
there’s no such thing as
‘evil’ or ‘ruins’;
when a star explodes, we call it a
‘supernova’, enriching the
interstellar medium with heavy elements
previously concealed in the stellar core.
And we don’t think of the exploding
universe as an initial singularity in
‘ruins’, destroyed by evil.
I saw the latest copy of newscientist had
an article on just that, so I read it.
They point out that a violent person has a
tendency to have diminished activity in
the orbitofrontal cortex, and yes, they
are still human. But the fascinating
point is that my demon theory fits right
in between the lines of that article.
They way yes, the violent offenders can be
spotted on the brain scan, but not the
serial killers!. They admit that, though
violent, antisocial behavior based on a
low-functioning orbitofrontalcortex is
genetic, the serial killer type is not.
Those people have the same functioning on
a pet scan as everyone else. What they do
tend to have is a history of child abuse
as a kid, or atleast a hard childhood.
This is what is known to create a
schizotypal mind, which is what creates
the storm that astrates the hole to the
demon world.
They ask, "so what does the serial killer
lack?", compared to regular people. They
answer "empathy", but they're way off.
The answer is energy. C'mon, you, edge,
can write a poem like this but i'm sure
you can show empathy in the appropriate
situation, if your survival or your access
to resources counts on it. That's why the
serial killer can get away with it for so
long... They act nomal, have a wife and
kids. Go see "taking lives", great movie.
He fits the profile perfectly. And so do
i.
|
lollipop4u
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 30 Jun 2004 Posts: 79 Location: pottsboro
Hey, Ding-batt !!! Posted: 06-30-04 23:23pm
Rational vs irrational
you are really beginning to get on my
wholesome nerves !!! " hate that which is
evil" ... Like hitler with our jewish
brothers and sisters !!! I 'll give you
something rational to think about !!!
Hate for that which is cruel ... Like
kkk members is the concomitent ( or, the
same thing as ) of love now go out there
and be a good good boy !!! Your adopted
mother, laura
|
bounce
New User, Becoming EHEALTHy
Joined: 12 Jan 2005 Posts: 15 Location: scotland
????????? Posted: 01-14-05 05:33am
Having read what you've just shared has
left me feeling a bit sick.If what your
writing is your true experience's then I
recommend you turn to jesus in order to
save your soul. Christian counselling is
helpful and if you have demons like you
say they can be sent back to where they
came from{hell usually}.If what your
saying isnt true, then you have a good
ability to write, maybe you should try
writing about more positive things instead
of dwelling on such dark things.You do
need help its just wether you want it{and
I pray to god that you do}.
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ONDERDONK
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 03 Apr 2004 Posts: 85 Location: red shift space,
Thanks: 1
Thanked:0
Posted: 01-14-05 14:30pm
I have talked to jesus. I was baptised
catholic. Spoke with the angels in the
cathedrals, they taught me how to pray.
Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's
a very big one, a warden in the prison
that contains the demons. And if you want
the life of comfort, then bow down to him,
worship him and swear to abort and exclude
other demons, and he will give you
pleasure and comfort. But stand up and
fight him, and he fights just like a
demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's
doing. He needs help. I try to go to him
but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light.
Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an
aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an
aztec shamaness who fougt in the war
against panchovilla using magic. My
father was a german jesuit priest.
Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth
religion and a sky religion crashing into
eachother.
But thanks for your attention and
interest. Want to hear more about the
adventures of a red magic shaman in the
way out there?
Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple
of big bags, I was in a big basement where
a demon sat writing at a desk across the
room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug
stung me. I threw out the rest of the
beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly
because the aura of the environment just
doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour
in the reclining chair, until my ride to
whatever i’d been packing for, but when I
woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of
kids what time it was, day or night 11:15,
disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my
sister to drive me, but she said she’d
never see me again. Eventually my mom
drives me, along on a ride with a bus full
of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot,
and I remembered he had done the same
thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I
was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon,
so I threw him off the bus, and his body
fell down a long way; I saw him fall and
then die on impact. I was surprised that
everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin
to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me
to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly
way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and
talk loudly trying to send myself a
message, but I apparently can’t get
through. As we continue to walk down the
block and approach a corner, I try to fly,
and to do magic by throwing stuff up in
the air, but the priest stops me, putting
a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I
asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it
seems to be some sort of commune, a large
apartment where several people live and
work, and only a small portion of them are
actually here right now. Sitting down the
priest asks, “what do you notice about the
room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted
into the wall. “what else?”
amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very
good!”
i wander into the next room and in a
moment I come back out and say “not the
bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of
demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman
walks into the room and smiles. She says
I remind her of someone. She and I walk
into the dining room and we sit down with
her husband. The couple seems russian and
appears to get along well, though they are
both older looking; I ask his name, and he
gives none. The woman has a name for him
though, and when I ask she points out that
they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to
paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath
his feet. Seeing some of the other,
smaller, plain white statues and assorted
paints scattered on the floor in the
living room, I got the idea that the
statue the priest had given me was meant
to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in
the same room as the table. As I walked
past him, he said toward me, “a lot of
bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the
table, I said I intend to remember
everything I see here, and the priest
commented that most people can’t even
remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting
at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a
patio door, and there were several people
gathered out on the patio, maybe about
twenty people, and they seemed to be
having a party. The priest and I decided
to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of
people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts
going down, sideways and backwards,
approaching a distance of only a few
buildings, and everyone panics and starts
to run inside, and so do i. I was
wondering about the safety of being in the
structure of the building if it collapses,
but I keep going, even when someone behind
me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I
are going back in to get people’s stuff,
after the dust has settled, and on the way
up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and
stairs. I gather my statue, some paints,
then my clothes, then I start to gather
some of the women’s pocketbooks on my
cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest,
while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And
suddenly I wake up.
A few nights after the experience with
the shaman there was a supernatural dream.
It was like a whole movie. The dream
begins with me sitting in a movie theatre,
watching a movie, and there are several
other people watching too, but the theatre
isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a
sudden, some kids, mostly very young,
maybe a few teenagers, come running in
from the back of the theatre, past me, and
up around the back of the stage. There
were about thirty to forty kids, but the
speed of the stampede was other than
natural. And I sensed extreme fear.
They had just passed, and disappeared
behind the screen, and no one else in the
audience seemed to care, but I got the
feeling that whatever scared them into
running like that, it might threaten me,
too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up
and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up
several flights of stairs, running and
getting more scared myself. The kids all
reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the
top and it’s the end of the line, so
everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really
hiding too well, just in their seats, with
their heads down.
A moment later a few adults
come in, and turn on the lights; they see
everybody, and start picking out different
ones and calling to each other, and also
yelling out some chant at everyone. These
are the people the kids were running from.
I get picked, among other people, and i’m
asked, or told, to do an operation on
someone, and asked if I can be ready in
three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the
other kids around me, a packet, with maybe
a scalpel and a syringe and some
medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us
now is something like “we give you the
power of life and death, but you have to
use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if
I can make it ten minutes from now instead
of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My
offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for
it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of
balconies up in this movie theatre, all
behind the screen, and each lower level is
a little farther out, and there are big
golden bars, so you can jump, holding on
to the bars, and it’s a series of small
leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping
down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a
middle level that’s much bigger than the
others, like the concession stand area.
I get that far, and they catch up with me.
I’m not the only one who tried to get
away, there are two or three others, and
we’re all cornered on this large, middle
balcony.
The chasers stand in the
middle of the floor talk calmly to us,
then pull up chairs and sit down and
lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager
disciplining and employee in his office.
But I and one or two other kids are in the
corner, standing on top of something, and
there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash
the glass punch bowl, and we all start
throwing the sharp chunks of glass at
these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out
of the three managers get up calmly,
looking disappointed, and walk away. The
one main guy walks forward, walks straight
up to me, talking sternly and more
forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass
right into his forehead. Blood comes out,
but he continues talking and talking, like
nothing happened. Now I and the other two
kids are really scared, and we must have
looked confused, because he breaks his
monologue for a second, pulls the glass
out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then
he starts pulling all the flesh of his
head apart and off, and his skull is
showing through, and he’s still talking,
saying something like “this doesn’t
matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally
frightened by this, and we’re corralled,
brought back to the top floor where
everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened
next. Some time went by, but I decided to
make another run for it. I start
swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars,
going down the different levels again.
They start chasing me again, but not that
hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but
they’re right behind me. But i’m trying
harder this time, and I have more momentum
going, and as i’m getting near the bottom
levels, I see some people on the side I
recognize. I touch their faces as I go by
to make sure they’re real, and they are,
and it feels reassuring, at least I have
witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I
come out a door into the lobby of the real
movie theatre, out of that whole
supernatural realm. The three pursuers
are right behind me, and they follow me
out into the natural realm. But several
movie theatre employees see them, and it’s
like they’ve always known who they were
but couldn’t chase them into their own
realm. They see these three guys, and
they gather around each and stamp them to
death on the floor of the lobby, chanting
“flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s
like as soon as they followed me out into
the lobby of the real movie theatre they
were mortal, and totally vulnerable and
easy to kill. I looked at the splattered
bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer,
just me hanging out in the lobby and doing
stuff. And when the shift was over, all
the employees gathered by me smiling to
say goodbye, and congratulations. And I
looked at all their faces and I recognized
them from somewhere, but I don’t know
where.
She and her children were poor, and when
the man and woman at the door said they
were government agents and needed to speak
with her son and daughter about a very
serious matter, she had a resigned look
and sound, like "those kids in some crazy
trouble again", and after letting them in
went back about the hectic business of
dealing with the kids in another part of
the house.
A short while later one of the agents came
over to them holding a thermos cup with
the lid on, looking even more serious than
before, and said, "we need to show
something to your son now, would you mind
if he listened to this?"
the crazy kids kept running around, and
the son went with the agents downstairs to
the living room. He seemed very excited
about the opportunity to communicate like
this, and so was his sister, who knew she
was next, and was hurriedly trying to get
the cat in the basement out through the
yard in time to escape.
The boy was given the thermos cup and he
held it in his two hands, carefully taking
the top off. He wasn't quite sure what to
expect, but he put his ear to the soup
inside. He listened to a couple of
garbled lines, which the agents overheard,
then the agents quickly took the cup away
and went back to work on it in another
room.
The mother went with the agents for a
moment because they looked so serious and
concerned, then, a little more serious
herself, she came out and asked if any of
the kids had been overseas recently; maybe
when they were with their father, but they
said, "of course not, we haven't gone
anywhere."
meanwhile the girl had made sure that the
cat had escaped but it had already come
back again and was running all around the
huge basement like a maniac.
The agents came back in to the mother and
said "ok, now we've got it, he can talk to
him", and the boy went into the next room
again.
He listened to a couple of garbled lines,
at first having no idea what was going on
but figuring it out pretty quickly. He
asked if he could talk back, and the two
agents looked at eachother, then the
female agent said to the man, "i guess
it's his right", and the boy carefully put
the cup of soup near his mouth and started
yelling into it excitedly. "i'm here!",
he began. "everything is going fine!
You'll never find the cat, he's been gone
a long time, the dog chased him away like
he always does! I can't believe you
called, I can't believe i'm talking to
you!..."
the boy kept yelling into the soup and he
knew what was going on and what would
happen when another phone rang and the
female agent went to answer it. It was
another small thermos of soup, and as the
woman put it to her ear and listened the
boy watched the amazed look come over her
face when she realized that what she was
hearing in the second container was the
same thing the boy next to her was
yelling.
And now he was really talking to the two
agents in a final exclamation before the
big getaway, when he yelled into the first
container, "that's right, it's me, of
course it's me, and you want to know how I
do it? I come outside of my body and I
dance around and yell like crazy, that's
how it's done!"
then he ran downstairs and got there just
in time as his sister, the dog, and the
skinny little cat went running out the
back door and down the rocks.
Had a dream, like an encounter with the
devil: we're all in one part of the house,
one kid is crying in another room, he's
sitting by a well opening; we check and
he's ok, but he keeps crying and calling
us over. Because of something he saw down
there? So we smash the well opening and
install a steel lock. But he still cries.
Out through the steel lock pops a
character, and I take a stick and swing at
the character. It becomes more and more
obvious that it goes right through the
character, right through the lock.
There's a tv near the lock. Somehow it's
becoming obvious that before we tried to
put the lock on the well-hole, there was a
balance of good and bad, and no matter
what we do, that balance persists. The
guy running around out of the hole says,
"that's why no good deed remains
unpunished". We try to make a better
world, and a tv world pops up like a
simulacrum with all bad. So much evil on
the tv is dispelling it from happening in
our world?
But right at the end I took a shot at the
character with the stick in the other
room, and rather than going through him,
he skedaddled over to the room with the
locked hole, where it went through him
again. After this dream I was extremely
allergic with "ghost bugs", and had to get
up and take a thera flu. Last time I felt
this way I later thought it might have
been a supernatural encounter. I think it
was a meeting with the devil and I think
he tried to make a point, but I don't
think I should believe his point. Rather,
do only good and let god do the balancing,
which will put all the bad on him, in
hell. So he comes out to say "you have to
do bad for all the good you do, you have
to have a balance somehow", to get it off
himself. Ignore him.
While I am awake I may be schizotypal but
I am not schizophrenic; I know the
difference between dreams and reality,
even if half the significant stuff that
happens to me in life happens in dreams.
But when I am asleep, I go over the edge.
“the despicable devil gets you at your
most defenseless – when you’re sleeping”,
elissa said. While I am dreaming I don’t
have the extra function that keeps me
seemingly sane. I get confused about
what’s real. There are regular dreams but
then there are supernatural dreams, and in
the supernatural dreams I can seem
schizophrenic.
There was some demon in the bathroom of a
big house, so when he was in there with
the door closed, I slipped some paper
under the door, as an attack. Then I ran
out of the house and kept running through
the neighborhood with big homes and very
wide streets. I had thought I would have
more time, but the demon was right behind
me, so I had no time to hide; I thought I
would find someone and ask for help, so I
looked around at people’s living rooms
with the tv on while I ran through the
street, but I thought I wouldn’t have
enough time to get in, so I ran toward a
park and I saw a police car going into an
area enclosed with a fence, so I went
there for protection. A cop with a big
dog was looking for a criminal he couldn’t
find, and when he saw me, he was corrupt
and decided to kill me saying I had been
the person he was looking for. So I
killed the dog and killed the cop and
chopped them up and buried them in the
park. (the demon chasing me never showed
again. I had done his will, I think.)
then I went back to my family, but the
next morning my sister’s cat was missing,
and I knew I had killed it, thinking it
was that dog, and I felt very guilty, but
I acted like I didn’t know where he was
and went out and pretended to look for
him. The person I had killed was really
the philippino fiancé of someone else in
the group, and she didn’t know where he
was, and I felt very bad about that also.
Then he came back! He had lived, but he
was very badly damaged, and didn’t
remember what had happened. So not only
did I feel guilty, but I was frightened
that I would be caught for what I had
done. Time went on looking for the cat,
and the fiancé had a stroke and said he
felt like he was sinking to the ground. I
thought I should tell his fiancé that he
was going to die and this would be her
last time with him, but I didn’t because I
was scared.
Eventually I was going on a business trip,
and it seemed a couple of guys knew what I
had done and weren’t telling but were
torturing me. One said, “what are you
packing there? He’s got dead bodies in
the bag!” but I said “no, it’s just some
papers I need”, and I was worried that my
cell phone would be found with the chopped
up body of the cat with my name on it.
The guy next to me said “maybe we should
get a bunch of people to search the park”
but I still acted like I didn’t know
anything.
When I woke up I felt so regretful of
everything, and noticed elissa was having
a rough time too.
I had just parked the car and gotten out
on an unfamiliar looking block, looking
for the address of a kid's birthday party.
A kid on the street asked me what I was
doing, looking up and down the block at
everyone's house, and I explained but he
didn't seem to believe me; he said that
address didn't exist, and he was harassing
me, so I was relieved when I saw another
parent and her two kids, whom I
recognized, also arriving and getting out
of their car. Since we couldn't find the
address, I went off by myself to look
through some other things that seemed to
be mine in a mailbox. When I came back I
saw the local boy again, but not the
parent and her two kids, so I asked if
they had finally found the address. He
said yes, he finally found it, and led me
to where it was. We went through alleys
and climbed in windows and out back doors,
and I was thinking 'something's wrong',
then in an apartment in the corner there
was a big wooden box with an "exit" sign
on top of it. The boy opened the box and
turned on the tv that was inside, and said
"that's where they all are". The tv
playing showed several cakes, one at a
time, coming out from behind curtains,
with the names of the people I had
recognized written at the bottom of the
screen, one below each cake. The
voice-over announcer said "come on in,
it's time to die; everyone already died,
it's time for you to die". I knew better
that to go inside the tv, but the boy who
had brought me here insisted, and led the
way, jumping into the tv. In an
aggressive attack, I quickly reached over
and turned off the tv; the boy shouted
"no!!!!" and started jumping back out, but
seemed to be caught half-formed because
the tv had finished going off before he
had completely gotten out. I turned and
ran, trying to find a faster way out than
the way we came in, but all the doors were
locked, there weren't any windows, and
another exit sign in the bedroom was
another tv in a wooden box. I finally got
out through a back door into an apartment
building hallway, but the boy was now a
giant demon and right behind me, chasing
me and getting pretty close. I went
flying down the stairs, swinging from the
poles of the banister and barely touching
the stairs, but he was still right behind,
and I woke up.
Thirty years after the soul was implanted
in my back, when I was 35, my demon soul
matured and blossomed, and I joined my
family in the demon world.
It takes place in a crater. I walk by a
skull on a stick next to three other
sticks in a square formation, and an
arched piece of wood across the top of the
skull, and a crow standing on top of the
wood turned to the side. I thought ‘is it
a threat?, like 'you go here too’? Then I
thought ‘no, his spirit guides me; a
powerful shaman leaves his skull,
sometimes multiple skulls, to continue to
guide the society. This one came to the
event. It looks like woodstock but
everyone is in colorful war paint and
indian headdress, and a central spectacle
occurs, way better than any rock festival.
It's wild like a rock festival but really
a much more powerful religious event,
where they actually use the enthusiasm of
the surrounding crowd to perform miracles.
Sitting, colorfully dressed, one indian
holds two rattles on a stick, like
balloons, while looking the other way,
waves them together, slowly across right
to left; as they go by, inside them,
another movie takes place, in a different,
vividly bright dimension. What’s going on
in there? The genome!
I walk through the crowd to the backstage,
then down an aisle on the stage surrounded
by old iron junk. At the center of all
the commotion and with everyone's
attention on me, I inhabit a
counter-rotating nucleus in relation to
the giant disk of observers around me. I
walk toward the front of the stage, toward
the crowd, throwing the objects around me
up in the air, and everything hovers -
typewriters, office equipment, telephones,
wooden boards, utensils - and the crowd
roars! Everyone is spinning one way, and
at the very bright center there is a
sudden shift, and it swings around the
other way, as the one central eye gazes
into the night, its holy voice singing in
the sacrificial prayer for grace, calm,
wisdom, and beauty.
Apparently doing this magic has convinced
the demons that I have come of age, and my
family takes me to show me more – an array
of colors and marks is revealed within any
wall around them by scratching in a
certain sequence of directions, some with
the left hand and some with the right
hand, and a colorful message appears and
disappears. I try it myself but its not
really working; just barely; all of them
walk over to me and one explains verbally
while another shows another colorful
diagram, like it has to do with the
genome, and a special pattern reveals a
circular set of letters ‘human master’;
rub it and it shows, rub it differently
and it goes away again, and a female voice
says “show him the genome” but we get
distracted and all through the rest of the
dream I was waiting for this direct
instruction but it never came. On the way
out of the room she did say “you just have
to experiment”, and that her brothers had
found they could do certain things because
they had more alveoli on their genome.
We left to watch what seemed like a movie,
where a girl auditions to be the nanny of
a bunch of rich kids; she does very well
by showing she already knows all about
them, and serves pizza. The one daughter
isn’t eating though, while the kids and
guests are eating the pizza – she’s
listening carefully to the wall and
sitting on a chair with her feet up. She
listens and taps out a pattern with her
toes very complex, like fingers on a
typewriter. What she is listening to is
this part of the movie that we’re all
going to see next. She sounds very
excited; her father and mother are in the
other room she is listening to, and the
father is small like a monkey but shaped
and dressed like george washington; she
says “my father was… (something) !”
sounding very amazed.
We go to another room to see this new
information in a movie, but as one amazing
part comes, i’m the only one who sees it
and they are all in the other room. I see
these skeletons come through the wall.
They’re ancestors bestowing magic. I stop
the movie and call the others in. I
rewind it a little, but apparently not
enough. It’s like a movie but we see it
taking place live in the room before us
and with us. I play it back, but to me
every time it seems a little bit
different. We all see the skeletons again
and they say I should rewind it more and
play it back again. As i’m rewinding, a
woman says, “that’s amazing, we all could
be one person.” another says, “they were
immigrants. I had thought they had
originated here; they immigrated to idaho
first.”
the movie is rewound more this time.
People are at a train station. The butler
cooks and serves the food to everyone.
The children are gathered together and put
in an elevator at the train station,
gathered up by fun-stuff-dressed-up
characters and balloons. Someone in the
audience next to me says, “just like a t a
bar mitzvah”. Then the selected children
go down in the elevator, and i’m down
there with them, and these flying monkey
skeletons come up out of a doorway, flying
over each of us, each one of them in
succession, bigger and bigger ones, and
tap each of us twice on the head; this
seems to be the bestowing of some kind of
magic power. After this two big skeletons
come through the wall, and they seem to
transform as they move, amazing everybody,
eventually ending up in a kind of george
washington form. After the movie I go
walking around the house of these magical
kids, my brothers and sisters, and look at
embroideries each one has done. One of
them said ‘we don’t eat meat because it’s
each other’s flesh’. One was about me,
and said something about zen. I forgot
what most of them said but I got the idea,
as I walked up the stairs of the house,
that these are our souls, we have been
bestowed with these magic souls, and
that’s what the skeletons were.
There was one big piece of furniture that
was the size of a piano but full of water
and it had three stories of rocks and
caves, and it had a saying near the top –
I forgot what it was but something about
balance – and I rocked it back and forth
and wondered why the water didn’t spill
out, though as it continued to rock after
I stopped I worried a little but then
noticed it seemed to crash up like waves
in the back and take care of itself.
I went upstairs and saw some of the kids.
I was going to ask again about the genome
but didn’t get the chance. The butler was
cleaning up and the kids were playing. A
little girl asked the butler if she could
play, he said yes and she started ironing
on the floor next to me. I made the
comment that I do that kind of playing
every day, and an older boy sitting down
on the floor to the other side of me asked
why, and I explained for suits and shirts,
but he said even for that there was an
easier way, just pinching it, but he
didn’t really explain, and he was putting
on a pair of sneakers like mine but
metallic color, and I was thinking ‘oh I
guess I should start getting them in
metallic color’ (silver).
|
ONDERDONK
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 03 Apr 2004 Posts: 85 Location: red shift space,
Thanks: 1
Thanked:0
Posted: 01-14-05 14:36pm
I have talked to jesus. I was baptised
catholic. Spoke with the angels in the
cathedrals, they taught me how to pray.
Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's
a very big one, a warden in the prison
that contains the demons. And if you want
the life of comfort, then bow down to him,
worship him and swear to abort and exclude
other demons, and he will give you
pleasure and comfort. But stand up and
fight him, and he fights just like a
demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's
doing. He needs help. I try to go to him
but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light.
Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an
aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an
aztec shamaness who fougt in the war
against panchovilla using magic. My
father was a german jesuit priest.
Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth
religion and a sky religion crashing into
eachother.
And as a sage and a shaman I like to look
at the truth, and unite the worlds - I
span the human and the demon world, and I
am the host of a game show, "testing for
justice", where I am a supreme court
justice in the demon world and millions of
demon communes and warring tribes are
watching as I interact with unsuspecting
humans, opeing myself up for injustice and
seeing if they will take the bait, or if
they will be just and win the game.
But thanks for your attention and
interest. Want to hear more about the
adventures of a red magic shaman in the
way out there?
Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple
of big bags, I was in a big basement where
a demon sat writing at a desk across the
room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug
stung me. I threw out the rest of the
beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly
because the aura of the environment just
doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour
in the reclining chair, until my ride to
whatever i’d been packing for, but when I
woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of
kids what time it was, day or night 11:15,
disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my
sister to drive me, but she said she’d
never see me again. Eventually my mom
drives me, along on a ride with a bus full
of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot,
and I remembered he had done the same
thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I
was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon,
so I threw him off the bus, and his body
fell down a long way; I saw him fall and
then die on impact. I was surprised that
everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin
to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me
to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly
way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and
talk loudly trying to send myself a
message, but I apparently can’t get
through. As we continue to walk down the
block and approach a corner, I try to fly,
and to do magic by throwing stuff up in
the air, but the priest stops me, putting
a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I
asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it
seems to be some sort of commune, a large
apartment where several people live and
work, and only a small portion of them are
actually here right now. Sitting down the
priest asks, “what do you notice about the
room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted
into the wall. “what else?”
amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very
good!”
i wander into the next room and in a
moment I come back out and say “not the
bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of
demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman
walks into the room and smiles. She says
I remind her of someone. She and I walk
into the dining room and we sit down with
her husband. The couple seems russian and
appears to get along well, though they are
both older looking; I ask his name, and he
gives none. The woman has a name for him
though, and when I ask she points out that
they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to
paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath
his feet. Seeing some of the other,
smaller, plain white statues and assorted
paints scattered on the floor in the
living room, I got the idea that the
statue the priest had given me was meant
to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in
the same room as the table. As I walked
past him, he said toward me, “a lot of
bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the
table, I said I intend to remember
everything I see here, and the priest
commented that most people can’t even
remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting
at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a
patio door, and there were several people
gathered out on the patio, maybe about
twenty people, and they seemed to be
having a party. The priest and I decided
to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of
people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts
going down, sideways and backwards,
approaching a distance of only a few
buildings, and everyone panics and starts
to run inside, and so do i. I was
wondering about the safety of being in the
structure of the building if it collapses,
but I keep going, even when someone behind
me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I
are going back in to get people’s stuff,
after the dust has settled, and on the way
up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and
stairs. I gather my statue, some paints,
then my clothes, then I start to gather
some of the women’s pocketbooks on my
cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest,
while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And
suddenly I wake up.
A few nights after the experience with
the shaman there was a supernatural dream.
It was like a whole movie. The dream
begins with me sitting in a movie theatre,
watching a movie, and there are several
other people watching too, but the theatre
isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a
sudden, some kids, mostly very young,
maybe a few teenagers, come running in
from the back of the theatre, past me, and
up around the back of the stage. There
were about thirty to forty kids, but the
speed of the stampede was other than
natural. And I sensed extreme fear.
They had just passed, and disappeared
behind the screen, and no one else in the
audience seemed to care, but I got the
feeling that whatever scared them into
running like that, it might threaten me,
too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up
and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up
several flights of stairs, running and
getting more scared myself. The kids all
reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the
top and it’s the end of the line, so
everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really
hiding too well, just in their seats, with
their heads down.
A moment later a few adults
come in, and turn on the lights; they see
everybody, and start picking out different
ones and calling to each other, and also
yelling out some chant at everyone. These
are the people the kids were running from.
I get picked, among other people, and i’m
asked, or told, to do an operation on
someone, and asked if I can be ready in
three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the
other kids around me, a packet, with maybe
a scalpel and a syringe and some
medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us
now is something like “we give you the
power of life and death, but you have to
use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if
I can make it ten minutes from now instead
of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My
offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for
it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of
balconies up in this movie theatre, all
behind the screen, and each lower level is
a little farther out, and there are big
golden bars, so you can jump, holding on
to the bars, and it’s a series of small
leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping
down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a
middle level that’s much bigger than the
others, like the concession stand area.
I get that far, and they catch up with me.
I’m not the only one who tried to get
away, there are two or three others, and
we’re all cornered on this large, middle
balcony.
The chasers stand in the
middle of the floor talk calmly to us,
then pull up chairs and sit down and
lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager
disciplining and employee in his office.
But I and one or two other kids are in the
corner, standing on top of something, and
there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash
the glass punch bowl, and we all start
throwing the sharp chunks of glass at
these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out
of the three managers get up calmly,
looking disappointed, and walk away. The
one main guy walks forward, walks straight
up to me, talking sternly and more
forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass
right into his forehead. Blood comes out,
but he continues talking and talking, like
nothing happened. Now I and the other two
kids are really scared, and we must have
looked confused, because he breaks his
monologue for a second, pulls the glass
out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then
he starts pulling all the flesh of his
head apart and off, and his skull is
showing through, and he’s still talking,
saying something like “this doesn’t
matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally
frightened by this, and we’re corralled,
brought back to the top floor where
everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened
next. Some time went by, but I decided to
make another run for it. I start
swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars,
going down the different levels again.
They start chasing me again, but not that
hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but
they’re right behind me. But i’m trying
harder this time, and I have more momentum
going, and as i’m getting near the bottom
levels, I see some people on the side I
recognize. I touch their faces as I go by
to make sure they’re real, and they are,
and it feels reassuring, at least I have
witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I
come out a door into the lobby of the real
movie theatre, out of that whole
supernatural realm. The three pursuers
are right behind me, and they follow me
out into the natural realm. But several
movie theatre employees see them, and it’s
like they’ve always known who they were
but couldn’t chase them into their own
realm. They see these three guys, and
they gather around each and stamp them to
death on the floor of the lobby, chanting
“flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s
like as soon as they followed me out into
the lobby of the real movie theatre they
were mortal, and totally vulnerable and
easy to kill. I looked at the splattered
bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer,
just me hanging out in the lobby and doing
stuff. And when the shift was over, all
the employees gathered by me smiling to
say goodbye, and congratulations. And I
looked at all their faces and I recognized
them from somewhere, but I don’t know
where.
She and her children were poor, and when
the man and woman at the door said they
were government agents and needed to speak
with her son and daughter about a very
serious matter, she had a resigned look
and sound, like "those kids in some crazy
trouble again", and after letting them in
went back about the hectic business of
dealing with the kids in another part of
the house.
A short while later one of the agents came
over to them holding a thermos cup with
the lid on, looking even more serious than
before, and said, "we need to show
something to your son now, would you mind
if he listened to this?"
the crazy kids kept running around, and
the son went with the agents downstairs to
the living room. He seemed very excited
about the opportunity to communicate like
this, and so was his sister, who knew she
was next, and was hurriedly trying to get
the cat in the basement out through the
yard in time to escape.
The boy was given the thermos cup and he
held it in his two hands, carefully taking
the top off. He wasn't quite sure what to
expect, but he put his ear to the soup
inside. He listened to a couple of
garbled lines, which the agents overheard,
then the agents quickly took the cup away
and went back to work on it in another
room.
The mother went with the agents for a
moment because they looked so serious and
concerned, then, a little more serious
herself, she came out and asked if any of
the kids had been overseas recently; maybe
when they were with their father, but they
said, "of course not, we haven't gone
anywhere."
meanwhile the girl had made sure that the
cat had escaped but it had already come
back again and was running all around the
huge basement like a maniac.
The agents came back in to the mother and
said "ok, now we've got it, he can talk to
him", and the boy went into the next room
again.
He listened to a couple of garbled lines,
at first having no idea what was going on
but figuring it out pretty quickly. He
asked if he could talk back, and the two
agents looked at eachother, then the
female agent said to the man, "i guess
it's his right", and the boy carefully put
the cup of soup near his mouth and started
yelling into it excitedly. "i'm here!",
he began. "everything is going fine!
You'll never find the cat, he's been gone
a long time, the dog chased him away like
he always does! I can't believe you
called, I can't believe i'm talking to
you!..."
the boy kept yelling into the soup and he
knew what was going on and what would
happen when another phone rang and the
female agent went to answer it. It was
another small thermos of soup, and as the
woman put it to her ear and listened the
boy watched the amazed look come over her
face when she realized that what she was
hearing in the second container was the
same thing the boy next to her was
yelling.
And now he was really talking to the two
agents in a final exclamation before the
big getaway, when he yelled into the first
container, "that's right, it's me, of
course it's me, and you want to know how I
do it? I come outside of my body and I
dance around and yell like crazy, that's
how it's done!"
then he ran downstairs and got there just
in time as his sister, the dog, and the
skinny little cat went running out the
back door and down the rocks.
Had a dream, like an encounter with the
devil: we're all in one part of the house,
one kid is crying in another room, he's
sitting by a well opening; we check and
he's ok, but he keeps crying and calling
us over. Because of something he saw down
there? So we smash the well opening and
install a steel lock. But he still cries.
Out through the steel lock pops a
character, and I take a stick and swing at
the character. It becomes more and more
obvious that it goes right through the
character, right through the lock.
There's a tv near the lock. Somehow it's
becoming obvious that before we tried to
put the lock on the well-hole, there was a
balance of good and bad, and no matter
what we do, that balance persists. The
guy running around out of the hole says,
"that's why no good deed remains
unpunished". We try to make a better
world, and a tv world pops up like a
simulacrum with all bad. So much evil on
the tv is dispelling it from happening in
our world?
But right at the end I took a shot at the
character with the stick in the other
room, and rather than going through him,
he skedaddled over to the room with the
locked hole, where it went through him
again. After this dream I was extremely
allergic with "ghost bugs", and had to get
up and take a thera flu. Last time I felt
this way I later thought it might have
been a supernatural encounter. I think it
was a meeting with the devil and I think
he tried to make a point, but I don't
think I should believe his point. Rather,
do only good and let god do the balancing,
which will put all the bad on him, in
hell. So he comes out to say "you have to
do bad for all the good you do, you have
to have a balance somehow", to get it off
himself. Ignore him.
While I am awake I may be schizotypal but
I am not schizophrenic; I know the
difference between dreams and reality,
even if half the significant stuff that
happens to me in life happens in dreams.
But when I am asleep, I go over the edge.
“the despicable devil gets you at your
most defenseless – when you’re sleeping”,
elissa said. While I am dreaming I don’t
have the extra function that keeps me
seemingly sane. I get confused about
what’s real. There are regular dreams but
then there are supernatural dreams, and in
the supernatural dreams I can seem
schizophrenic.
There was some demon in the bathroom of a
big house, so when he was in there with
the door closed, I slipped some paper
under the door, as an attack. Then I ran
out of the house and kept running through
the neighborhood with big homes and very
wide streets. I had thought I would have
more time, but the demon was right behind
me, so I had no time to hide; I thought I
would find someone and ask for help, so I
looked around at people’s living rooms
with the tv on while I ran through the
street, but I thought I wouldn’t have
enough time to get in, so I ran toward a
park and I saw a police car going into an
area enclosed with a fence, so I went
there for protection. A cop with a big
dog was looking for a criminal he couldn’t
find, and when he saw me, he was corrupt
and decided to kill me saying I had been
the person he was looking for. So I
killed the dog and killed the cop and
chopped them up and buried them in the
park. (the demon chasing me never showed
again. I had done his will, I think.)
then I went back to my family, but the
next morning my sister’s cat was missing,
and I knew I had killed it, thinking it
was that dog, and I felt very guilty, but
I acted like I didn’t know where he was
and went out and pretended to look for
him. The person I had killed was really
the philippino fiancé of someone else in
the group, and she didn’t know where he
was, and I felt very bad about that also.
Then he came back! He had lived, but he
was very badly damaged, and didn’t
remember what had happened. So not only
did I feel guilty, but I was frightened
that I would be caught for what I had
done. Time went on looking for the cat,
and the fiancé had a stroke and said he
felt like he was sinking to the ground. I
thought I should tell his fiancé that he
was going to die and this would be her
last time with him, but I didn’t because I
was scared.
Eventually I was going on a business trip,
and it seemed a couple of guys knew what I
had done and weren’t telling but were
torturing me. One said, “what are you
packing there? He’s got dead bodies in
the bag!” but I said “no, it’s just some
papers I need”, and I was worried that my
cell phone would be found with the chopped
up body of the cat with my name on it.
The guy next to me said “maybe we should
get a bunch of people to search the park”
but I still acted like I didn’t know
anything.
When I woke up I felt so regretful of
everything, and noticed elissa was having
a rough time too.
I had just parked the car and gotten out
on an unfamiliar looking block, looking
for the address of a kid's birthday party.
A kid on the street asked me what I was
doing, looking up and down the block at
everyone's house, and I explained but he
didn't seem to believe me; he said that
address didn't exist, and he was harassing
me, so I was relieved when I saw another
parent and her two kids, whom I
recognized, also arriving and getting out
of their car. Since we couldn't find the
address, I went off by myself to look
through some other things that seemed to
be mine in a mailbox. When I came back I
saw the local boy again, but not the
parent and her two kids, so I asked if
they had finally found the address. He
said yes, he finally found it, and led me
to where it was. We went through alleys
and climbed in windows and out back doors,
and I was thinking 'something's wrong',
then in an apartment in the corner there
was a big wooden box with an "exit" sign
on top of it. The boy opened the box and
turned on the tv that was inside, and said
"that's where they all are". The tv
playing showed several cakes, one at a
time, coming out from behind curtains,
with the names of the people I had
recognized written at the bottom of the
screen, one below each cake. The
voice-over announcer said "come on in,
it's time to die; everyone already died,
it's time for you to die". I knew better
that to go inside the tv, but the boy who
had brought me here insisted, and led the
way, jumping into the tv. In an
aggressive attack, I quickly reached over
and turned off the tv; the boy shouted
"no!!!!" and started jumping back out, but
seemed to be caught half-formed because
the tv had finished going off before he
had completely gotten out. I turned and
ran, trying to find a faster way out than
the way we came in, but all the doors were
locked, there weren't any windows, and
another exit sign in the bedroom was
another tv in a wooden box. I finally got
out through a back door into an apartment
building hallway, but the boy was now a
giant demon and right behind me, chasing
me and getting pretty close. I went
flying down the stairs, swinging from the
poles of the banister and barely touching
the stairs, but he was still right behind,
and I woke up.
Thirty years after the soul was implanted
in my back, when I was 35, my demon soul
matured and blossomed, and I joined my
family in the demon world.
It takes place in a crater. I walk by a
skull on a stick next to three other
sticks in a square formation, and an
arched piece of wood across the top of the
skull, and a crow standing on top of the
wood turned to the side. I thought ‘is it
a threat?, like 'you go here too’? Then I
thought ‘no, his spirit guides me; a
powerful shaman leaves his skull,
sometimes multiple skulls, to continue to
guide the society. This one came to the
event. It looks like woodstock but
everyone is in colorful war paint and
indian headdress, and a central spectacle
occurs, way better than any rock festival.
It's wild like a rock festival but really
a much more powerful religious event,
where they actually use the enthusiasm of
the surrounding crowd to perform miracles.
Sitting, colorfully dressed, one indian
holds two rattles on a stick, like
balloons, while looking the other way,
waves them together, slowly across right
to left; as they go by, inside them,
another movie takes place, in a different,
vividly bright dimension. What’s going on
in there? The genome!
I walk through the crowd to the backstage,
then down an aisle on the stage surrounded
by old iron junk. At the center of all
the commotion and with everyone's
attention on me, I inhabit a
counter-rotating nucleus in relation to
the giant disk of observers around me. I
walk toward the front of the stage, toward
the crowd, throwing the objects around me
up in the air, and everything hovers -
typewriters, office equipment, telephones,
wooden boards, utensils - and the crowd
roars! Everyone is spinning one way, and
at the very bright center there is a
sudden shift, and it swings around the
other way, as the one central eye gazes
into the night, its holy voice singing in
the sacrificial prayer for grace, calm,
wisdom, and beauty.
Apparently doing this magic has convinced
the demons that I have come of age, and my
family takes me to show me more – an array
of colors and marks is revealed within any
wall around them by scratching in a
certain sequence of directions, some with
the left hand and some with the right
hand, and a colorful message appears and
disappears. I try it myself but its not
really working; just barely; all of them
walk over to me and one explains verbally
while another shows another colorful
diagram, like it has to do with the
genome, and a special pattern reveals a
circular set of letters ‘human master’;
rub it and it shows, rub it differently
and it goes away again, and a female voice
says “show him the genome” but we get
distracted and all through the rest of the
dream I was waiting for this direct
instruction but it never came. On the way
out of the room she did say “you just have
to experiment”, and that her brothers had
found they could do certain things because
they had more alveoli on their genome.
We left to watch what seemed like a movie,
where a girl auditions to be the nanny of
a bunch of rich kids; she does very well
by showing she already knows all about
them, and serves pizza. The one daughter
isn’t eating though, while the kids and
guests are eating the pizza – she’s
listening carefully to the wall and
sitting on a chair with her feet up. She
listens and taps out a pattern with her
toes very complex, like fingers on a
typewriter. What she is listening to is
this part of the movie that we’re all
going to see next. She sounds very
excited; her father and mother are in the
other room she is listening to, and the
father is small like a monkey but shaped
and dressed like george washington; she
says “my father was… (something) !”
sounding very amazed.
We go to another room to see this new
information in a movie, but as one amazing
part comes, i’m the only one who sees it
and they are all in the other room. I see
these skeletons come through the wall.
They’re ancestors bestowing magic. I stop
the movie and call the others in. I
rewind it a little, but apparently not
enough. It’s like a movie but we see it
taking place live in the room before us
and with us. I play it back, but to me
every time it seems a little bit
different. We all see the skeletons again
and they say I should rewind it more and
play it back again. As i’m rewinding, a
woman says, “that’s amazing, we all could
be one person.” another says, “they were
immigrants. I had thought they had
originated here; they immigrated to idaho
first.”
the movie is rewound more this time.
People are at a train station. The butler
cooks and serves the food to everyone.
The children are gathered together and put
in an elevator at the train station,
gathered up by fun-stuff-dressed-up
characters and balloons. Someone in the
audience next to me says, “just like a t a
bar mitzvah”. Then the selected children
go down in the elevator, and i’m down
there with them, and these flying monkey
skeletons come up out of a doorway, flying
over each of us, each one of them in
succession, bigger and bigger ones, and
tap each of us twice on the head; this
seems to be the bestowing of some kind of
magic power. After this two big skeletons
come through the wall, and they seem to
transform as they move, amazing everybody,
eventually ending up in a kind of george
washington form. After the movie I go
walking around the house of these magical
kids, my brothers and sisters, and look at
embroideries each one has done. One of
them said ‘we don’t eat meat because it’s
each other’s flesh’. One was about me,
and said something about zen. I forgot
what most of them said but I got the idea,
as I walked up the stairs of the house,
that these are our souls, we have been
bestowed with these magic souls, and
that’s what the skeletons were.
There was one big piece of furniture that
was the size of a piano but full of water
and it had three stories of rocks and
caves, and it had a saying near the top –
I forgot what it was but something about
balance – and I rocked it back and forth
and wondered why the water didn’t spill
out, though as it continued to rock after
I stopped I worried a little but then
noticed it seemed to crash up like waves
in the back and take care of itself.
I went upstairs and saw some of the kids.
I was going to ask again about the genome
but didn’t get the chance. The butler was
cleaning up and the kids were playing. A
little girl asked the butler if she could
play, he said yes and she started ironing
on the floor next to me. I made the
comment that I do that kind of playing
every day, and an older boy sitting down
on the floor to the other side of me asked
why, and I explained for suits and shirts,
but he said even for that there was an
easier way, just pinching it, but he
didn’t really explain, and he was putting
on a pair of sneakers like mine but
metallic color, and I was thinking ‘oh I
guess I should start getting them in
metallic color’ (silver).
|
ONDERDONK
Experienced User , Rather EHEALTHy
Joined: 03 Apr 2004 Posts: 85 Location: red shift space,
Thanks: 1
Thanked:0
Posted: 01-14-05 14:41pm
I have talked to jesus. I was baptized
catholic. Spoke with the angels in the
cathedrals, they taught me how to pray.
Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's
a very big one, a warden in the prison
that contains the demons. And if you want
the life of comfort, then bow down to him,
worship him and swear to abort and exclude
other demons, and he will give you
pleasure and comfort. But stand up and
fight him, and he fights just like a
demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's
doing. He needs help. I try to go to him
but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light.
Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an
aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an
aztec shamaness who fougt in the war
against panchovilla using magic. My
father was a german jesuit priest.
Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth
religion and a sky religion crashing into
eachother.
And as a sage and a shaman I like to look
at the truth, and unite the worlds - I
span the human and the demon world, and I
am the host of a game show, "testing for
justice", where I am a supreme court
justice in the demon world and millions of
demon communes and warring tribes are
watching as I interact with unsuspecting
humans, opeing myself up for injustice and
seeing if they will take the bait, or if
they will be just and win the game.
But thanks for your attention and
interest. Want to hear more about the
adventures of a red magic shaman in the
way out there?
Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple
of big bags, I was in a big basement where
a demon sat writing at a desk across the
room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug
stung me. I threw out the rest of the
beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly
because the aura of the environment just
doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour
in the reclining chair, until my ride to
whatever i’d been packing for, but when I
woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of
kids what time it was, day or night 11:15,
disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my
sister to drive me, but she said she’d
never see me again. Eventually my mom
drives me, along on a ride with a bus full
of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot,
and I remembered he had done the same
thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I
was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon,
so I threw him off the bus, and his body
fell down a long way; I saw him fall and
then die on impact. I was surprised that
everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin
to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me
to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly
way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and
talk loudly trying to send myself a
message, but I apparently can’t get
through. As we continue to walk down the
block and approach a corner, I try to fly,
and to do magic by throwing stuff up in
the air, but the priest stops me, putting
a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I
asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it
seems to be some sort of commune, a large
apartment where several people live and
work, and only a small portion of them are
actually here right now. Sitting down the
priest asks, “what do you notice about the
room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted
into the wall. “what else?”
amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very
good!”
i wander into the next room and in a
moment I come back out and say “not the
bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of
demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman
walks into the room and smiles. She says
I remind her of someone. She and I walk
into the dining room and we sit down with
her husband. The couple seems russian and
appears to get along well, though they are
both older looking; I ask his name, and he
gives none. The woman has a name for him
though, and when I ask she points out that
they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to
paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath
his feet. Seeing some of the other,
smaller, plain white statues and assorted
paints scattered on the floor in the
living room, I got the idea that the
statue the priest had given me was meant
to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in
the same room as the table. As I walked
past him, he said toward me, “a lot of
bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the
table, I said I intend to remember
everything I see here, and the priest
commented that most people can’t even
remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting
at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a
patio door, and there were several people
gathered out on the patio, maybe about
twenty people, and they seemed to be
having a party. The priest and I decided
to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of
people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts
going down, sideways and backwards,
approaching a distance of only a few
buildings, and everyone panics and starts
to run inside, and so do i. I was
wondering about the safety of being in the
structure of the building if it collapses,
but I keep going, even when someone behind
me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I
are going back in to get people’s stuff,
after the dust has settled, and on the way
up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and
stairs. I gather my statue, some paints,
then my clothes, then I start to gather
some of the women’s pocketbooks on my
cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest,
while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And
suddenly I wake up.
_______________________
a few nights after the experience with
the shaman there was a supernatural dream.
It was like a whole movie. The dream
begins with me sitting in a movie theatre,
watching a movie, and there are several
other people watching too, but the theatre
isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a
sudden, some kids, mostly very young,
maybe a few teenagers, come running in
from the back of the theatre, past me, and
up around the back of the stage. There
were about thirty to forty kids, but the
speed of the stampede was other than
natural. And I sensed extreme fear.
They had just passed, and disappeared
behind the screen, and no one else in the
audience seemed to care, but I got the
feeling that whatever scared them into
running like that, it might threaten me,
too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up
and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up
several flights of stairs, running and
getting more scared myself. The kids all
reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the
top and it’s the end of the line, so
everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really
hiding too well, just in their seats, with
their heads down.
A moment later a few adults
come in, and turn on the lights; they see
everybody, and start picking out different
ones and calling to each other, and also
yelling out some chant at everyone. These
are the people the kids were running from.
I get picked, among other people, and i’m
asked, or told, to do an operation on
someone, and asked if I can be ready in
three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the
other kids around me, a packet, with maybe
a scalpel and a syringe and some
medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us
now is something like “we give you the
power of life and death, but you have to
use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if
I can make it ten minutes from now instead
of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My
offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for
it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of
balconies up in this movie theatre, all
behind the screen, and each lower level is
a little farther out, and there are big
golden bars, so you can jump, holding on
to the bars, and it’s a series of small
leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping
down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a
middle level that’s much bigger than the
others, like the concession stand area.
I get that far, and they catch up with me.
I’m not the only one who tried to get
away, there are two or three others, and
we’re all cornered on this large, middle
balcony.
The chasers stand in the
middle of the floor talk calmly to us,
then pull up chairs and sit down and
lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager
disciplining and employee in his office.
But I and one or two other kids are in the
corner, standing on top of something, and
there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash
the glass punch bowl, and we all start
throwing the sharp chunks of glass at
these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out
of the three managers get up calmly,
looking disappointed, and walk away. The
one main guy walks forward, walks straight
up to me, talking sternly and more
forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass
right into his forehead. Blood comes out,
but he continues talking and talking, like
nothing happened. Now I and the other two
kids are really scared, and we must have
looked confused, because he breaks his
monologue for a second, pulls the glass
out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then
he starts pulling all the flesh of his
head apart and off, and his skull is
showing through, and he’s still talking,
saying something like “this doesn’t
matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally
frightened by this, and we’re corralled,
brought back to the top floor where
everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened
next. Some time went by, but I decided to
make another run for it. I start
swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars,
going down the different levels again.
They start chasing me again, but not that
hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but
they’re right behind me. But i’m trying
harder this time, and I have more momentum
going, and as i’m getting near the bottom
levels, I see some people on the side I
recognize. I touch their faces as I go by
to make sure they’re real, and they are,
and it feels reassuring, at least I have
witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I
come out a door into the lobby of the real
movie theatre, out of that whole
supernatural realm. The three pursuers
are right behind me, and they follow me
out into the natural realm. But several
movie theatre employees see them, and it’s
like they’ve always known who they were
but couldn’t chase them into their own
realm. They see these three guys, and
they gather around each and stamp them to
death on the floor of the lobby, chanting
“flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s
like as soon as they followed me out into
the lobby of the real movie theatre they
were mortal, and totally vulnerable and
easy to kill. I looked at the splattered
bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer,
just me hanging out in the lobby and doing
stuff. And when the shift was over, all
the employees gathered by me smiling to
say goodbye, and congratulations. And I
looked at all their faces and I recognized
them from somewhere, but I don’t know
where.
___________________
she and her children were poor, and when
the man an
if you could do
that then maybe the bad thoughts would
disapear. :d I hope you reply as I would
like to know how you get on.
