May 2018 –
First off, in the last few years I’ve been repeatedly told in various visionary states that someone on my Mom’s Dad’s side of the family (or possibly my grandpa himself I suppose) was involved in a murder that he himself didn’t commit but he somehow knew he’d be arrested for. I’ve had recurring dreams where I’ve been living this out for years now as a matter of fact. Someone I’m associated with kills someone and I know I’m going to take the fall for this action by association. Seemingly hundreds of dreams with the exact same base configuration going back years. Fuck, maybe I’ve always been having them. What’s interesting is that it’s been explained to me that this negative event has affected that side of the family in strange unpredictable ways for generations now. My uncle struggled with alcoholism and drug addiction for years. My mom’s functionally insane. My half brother is about as full blown schizophrenic as a person can get and completely non-functional because of it.
I’ve never entirely understood this, but the theme keeps coming up and has been increasingly fleshed out recently. At one point it was explained to me as: “bureaucracy” and I’ve been getting this vibe continually as well. Dreams scenarios where it almost seems like boring legal proceedings that I’m only vaguely aware of have been going on for what seems like forever trying to clear me to ascend heavenward (I think). After several of these it’s eventually explained to me in a trance in a total no shit manner, like, dude, this isn’t that tough to connect. It was a burglary that went south. Seriously, it’s fucking amazing you couldn’t get this from what we kept showing you, so we’re just going to explain it flat out. I’ve now gotta admit, that does makes perfect sense and I am a bit of an idiot. When a robbery goes bad even the guy who didn’t pull the trigger is probably going take some serious heat. It’s also explained to me that shit tons of alcohol was involved and “that’s why you don’t take risks”, in sort of a scolding tone. I now realize this absolutely has to do with me having to get my drinking in order (which I did). Maybe not everyone would have to do this, but I did because of this weird distortion in my genetic past? Sure.
Okay, so now I’m absolutely going to have to join Ancestry.com and do at least a minor amount of investigation there before releasing my next book. If there’s any evidence of this, that’d be sort of astounding and I must point out that there have been new studies that indicate trauma can be passed down through generations, which is precisely what I’m being shown here and have been before I’d ever even read of the concept. I’d say the possible problem with finding evidence of this though is that maybe they never got caught but the shock traumatized future descendents anyway. I also vaguely remember being told this happened during a war years ago as well, so again, maybe no one got caught in a physical sense. All in all, it’s a fairly fascinating otherworldly concept though. My entire genetic storyline going back god only knows how long is being held under some sort of scrutiny, almost like a karmic background check that I have to clear before I can proceed further into the higher realms (although again, I don’t know what I’m being cleared for exactly).
What else, on one morning I pulled myself out of hypnagogia with the phrase: “Rage against the one in the mirror” reverberating through my consciousness. That’s about as good a slogan for a true spiritual practice as I could ever come up with. Also, if that’s the sort of protest we started engaging in, shit could potentially start turning around real quick. I’m not saying it’s going to happen, but it also certainly could.
Speaking of hypnagogia, one night a continual visionary theme penetrated my divine liminal states for hours. I’m in what sort of seems like a black galactic cloud, hovering above the human world. From here, I’m repeatedly diving down into their minds, taking temporary possession of their lives to briefly guide their actions without their knowledge, then swooping back into the higher obsidian mist cloud level of reality. At times, I’m jumping in and out of these people (plotlines) so rapidly I can barely keep up with it. From a certain perspective I zone out to, on the fly in mind tinkering with like a hundred different human lives feels like it happens in seconds. Same thing all night long, I am a higher being repeatedly swooping down and into people’s minds to guide a larger plot that wouldn’t make sense to the people I’m intentionally tweaking at all. You’d have to see the result of what I’m doing from above. I am like a being of light in this scenario, but when I jump in and out of their inner worlds to control them (unbeknownst to them of course), there’s a trail of black mist that almost looks like an open portal surrounding them for a spell. Over and over again, all night. Strange, and another variation of the same concept they’ve been beating into my spirit for a couple years now.
The very next night I have a similarly enchanting hypnagogic flourish which seemed to be the direct result of a couple of pre-hypnotic triggers. First, I was talking with a fan online about the concept of resisting the light at the end of a near death experience as portrayed by some weird ass conspiracy theorists. Second, I watched the Darren Aronofsky film Mother! that night before going to bed, which I’d put as only in the decent movie category but I’ve also got to give it credit where credit is due. I truly thought it was crap until the very end and was then like, oh, gotcha and ended up thinking about it continually the following day. Even though I didn’t like most of the film, I’d still give it a solid B because that night there was a gorgeous spectral naked woman standing ominously on the side of my bed. At the speed of thought she launched me into her vagina, and in a similar fashion to the previous night I found myself jumping through light portal wombs (which represented various lives) ad infinitum with the precise sort of rapid time warpage when viewed from above. A hundred calculated birth explosions felt like they happened in seconds and they were all connected to a prescribed grid as if to represent a deeper connection to a singular entity.
The comparison of the light at the end of near death experiences to the birth canal is one I maybe don’t want to connect on a conscious level at all as obvious as it all is but here I am. Metaphors within metaphors. I suppose I like the visions I’ve had where I blast into the depths of the universe as an orgasm a tad better. Getting sucked into a guided thousandfold life energy jump by the great cosmic mother was a strange trip though. I suppose I never imagined that’s the sort of thing a goddess would get herself up to, but guiding reincarnations calculatedly does make a great deal of sense I must confess. Of course that’s what they’d do, isn’t it? Oh the great depths of this mind fuck parody we call humanity.
What else, now this is a bit fucked. While ganj-i-tating the following day, the words: “I’m going to commit suicide” pop into my mind and I’m immediately creeped out. I of course fall into psychic protection mode and start summoning heavenly synth choirs from beyond and abstract sentient light pictures, but it gets weird anyway. My perception now becomes, hmm, what’s the best way to put this? Googly eyed shit. No, really. Imaginary mounds and waves of shit, with like fake stick-on googly eyes on top. I can manipulate them to a certain extent, but I’m also beyond confused. I’m now told I’m going to kill myself when I’m very old because my mind doesn’t function remotely like it used to which frustrates me. I’m fine with this and in all honesty, choosing our own deaths is exactly what our species has to consider in increasing depth if we’re to evolve.
Oh, and one other thing, while meditating on Mother’s Day morning the word “Bad” popped strongly into my mind out of nowhere. I did some magicks but realized instantly this wasn’t a great sign. When I just barely caught the ferry over to Bremerton I thought I’d avoided it, but I got caught in the ferry line on the way back having zero clue it had somehow sold out. When I bought a ticket for the next one, they informed me it was going to be at least 20 minutes late. All in all it took me 3 and a half hours to get back to my place from when I left. I’ve been going over there on Mother’s day for like 17 years and this is the first time this has happened really. Oh, and my Mom ended the day right before that by once again trying to push Nazi propaganda on me. You just sort of have to laugh about that shit, or maybe I should blame the ancestral botched robbery?
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