Two more dreams

These two dreams were had directly after leaving one of the most abusive partners I had ever been with. This man worked in Washington DC near the federal district, programming. I was useful to him so long as my good name got him a place to live and other things. (His credit was ruined from a divorce.) As soon as he had what he wanted, he effectively worked daily to push me out. When I finally left, I was so confused and battered I wasn't even sure what sex I was anymore.

But as with many battered women, I didn't want to let him go and my heart ached like nothing had made it ache before. I found these and the importance to this blog is that one of them is a Fishbowl dream. I had only just gotten firmly aware of the Fishbowl, ironically because of my ex, but wasn't completely sure of how it worked just yet. This and many events like this gave me the clues I needed to understand.

_____________________________

Friday, August 15th, 2003
Subject: He haunts me even at naptime
3:00 pm.

Where were we? I don't know... but I'd decided to leave and go to Miami, and I wasn't coming back... he carried me the airport and we held each other tight and I begged him to let me stay, and he said that I'd be more productive "down there."

Wednesday, August 20th, 2003

Subject:	Nap Time
Time:	10:18 pm.

 A package came today from him, and I think that is what sparked today's dream. I took a nap right after receiving the package because it depressed me.

And in the dream he and I stood before a judge/jury type situation... lots of reds.... and they were deciding if we were allowed to stay together. I didn't say much, I don't know if he said anything, but I remember the judge talking a lot... weighing events, I guess... as I was waking up I realized he was gone and damn nearly screamed his name outloud...

I shouldn't be feeling this way, not really. He did abuse me quite a lot.

I've had this court dream before, though, and I'm not sure what it means. Not really.

Dream from September 15, 2001

This dream happened in Bayonne, New Jersey.

In this dream there was a young man who resembled someone I'd been close to briefly. I named him Flower, but now I think perhaps it wasn't the same person. This dream does, however, mark the start of a very important point in my life: when the Fishbowl "found me" and decided to see if I was worthy of my post with them. That was a scarey time and my memories on it are very faint.  Mostly I was only aware that I was being tried and possibly convicted - an intergalactic "This is Your Life" scenario in which if it was judged I was still guilty, still a criminal, and still not worthy I would die a very physical death.

I lived to tell this tale, however....

____

 The details are sketchy; it began with us as lovers (early teenagers), me running away, me coming back. there was space travel, and something about me having to turn a wrench in order for the ship to continue its orbit around the moon to shoot back on its trajectory. Star Trek style.

There was a scene that frightened me, and I do mean me. Me as in, I know this part wasn't just a dream, and I was looking truth in the face and I could do nothing but stand there. And this part I remember better than the rest. Flower said, "I'll tell you what the readings are really about. They're talking about upcoming events, and THEY know who you are," ominously.

And before me, I got to see the High Council (the Council on High, the Fishbowl, the Intergalactic Idiots) in their bloody ringside seats. Does anyone remember the High Council? All those high mucky mucks sitting there in their officious dark blue/black robes, and they were all staring at me ... and their eyes ... were those wide, upward-slanted large eyes attributed to elves. Super large. And they were blank white and glowing ... no iris, no pupil, just those glowing mad whites focused on me ... staring at me ... aware of me after so damn long ... and not willing to let me out of their sight.

I remember one of them had brown hair, in the traditional 50's haircut for men, and others behind him, maybe he was a leader, he was sitting there ahead of the rest. But his eyes were the same.

And I stood there and looked back, put on the spot, afraid and feeling very small.

The rest was just personal details: some guy hounding me that I could never love ... unable to tell him that I had loved someone else, etc etc ... After shooting around the moon in my ship, coming back to visit Flower, who was older, and he told me that I'd been gone for years. I screamed, "Don't TELL me that! I CAN'T have been gone during all that time!" I woke up.

I woke up thinking I had to post the dream ... and then laying down for a nap, those eyes came before me again.

Super Soldiers and the Fish that Bloop at Them

I've noticed this trend with the super soldier group that, in order to be validated as a super soldier, you have to have had some sort of military service in your verifiable history. Failing boot camp still qualifies you. I'm sure there are exceptions, but this seems to be the overall rule. Furthermore, the self-proclaimed super soldiers seem to be fighting amongst themselves. You've got the older guys who don't believe the younger guys, the younger guys who don't believe the older guys, and the women who cat fight amongst themselves. They point fingers at each other if they haven't had "enough" military service, are "pencil-necked skinny guys", are "confused" in what they remember; you name it.

They claim to have a plethora of adrenaline-rush skills, among them super speed, super fast reflexes, the ability to suffer dangerous events without getting hurt and/or killed, and psychic abilities associated with telepathy and telekinesis (usually employed for remote viewing).

I don't know about super soldiers in person aside from own experiences. (Among them being the time I traveled to Atlanta Georgia to see the Dalai Llama speak. I looked up - it's my habit to look around and observe - and saw very burly, very over-muscular men in fatigues pacing the rafter/roof area of the coliseum where we were. And there were service guys everywhere monitoring entrances back and forth, too, in suits and ties with little insignias about the size of a dime on.)But it seems to me that "super soldier" should not and probably does not refer to an over-abundance of muscle like at least one self-proclaimed super soldier is saying. And looking at the pattern of the self-proclaimed super soldiers, and my own patterns, I think super soldier isn't about looking like Superman. It's about being "super" in some way, be it with the ability to remote view or being able to "slip through molecules" to run really fast, or anything like that. Thanks to comic books and the public media, we have this vision of super heroes suddenly sprouting muscle and looking like Greek gods the minute they realize they're super. Considering all of the regular soldiers I've known in person who were mere "pencil-necked" guys that survived multiple deployments, let alone a super soldier who would supposedly go in under special circumstances, I just fail to believe that's the case.


Maybe there are grunts out there with that muscle rippling around even as I type. I just feel it's equally as possible there's a tech out there with very little muscle and a "seeing cube" (like a crystal ball but milky white) doing his soldier like duty. And there may even be an intelligence gal over on the corner writing down what the tech sees while the grunt guards the door. Who knows.

______________

But I need to stop to tell you about the Fishbowl, which for me is the final culmination of all of my experiences I am talking about here. I have met a lot of people out there who have realized when I am finished talking about it that they, too, are in touch with the Fishbowl. I had one tell me she was an ambassador. :-) So maybe this will help you as well, to give you the view from the other side of the room.

I have to with the dreams of going to a far away place in the middle of the woods and hanging with "hunters". And I'll be posting entries from my dream journal that have to do with the Fishbowl.

Now that I think about it, I realize why I thought of them that way - so maybe I'm repeating myself but I've just come to a revelation. I thought they were hunters because they all carried rifles and had bags and pouches on their clothes like a hunter would wear. But knowing what I know now... I'm sure you can see where my thoughts are leading. I can't prove any of those thoughts of course. But I was a small child, before I could even comprehend a conspiracy theory and the movies people claim to get their ideas from had even come out. And there it is. 

These dreams happened as far back as I can remember: I was 3, then 4, and I looked forward to walking down the dirt road to meet those hunters. They always greeted me in a friendly way - and although I can't remember what we did, I liked them.

And then that dream happened that I talked about here in April where I was told not to open my eyes.

So this other presence stayed with me my entire life. There are a lot of layers, so many that I think I might end up going to this blog for years to come. The pinnacle of things has been overseen and manipulated by a group of people I came to call The Council on High. Sometimes I call them "those old men" (even though there's at least one woman) or "those bastards". And I call the round coliseum place they meet in "The Fishbowl" because, when you're trapped at the bottom being reviewed or whatever, it's like you're in a fishbowl with everyone staring at you and tapping the glass.

My awareness of the Fishbowl grew slowly over the years.When I was a kid I thought it was God. Later I thought it was spirit guides. At least one preacher decided I was possessed at random and held an exorcism over me (I used a made up word instead of using a curse word to be considerate of everyone there. Should have used the curse word.). After that I didn't know who it was and stopped wondering; I just knew they were there.

They told me I couldn't marry, couldn't breed until the mate they had chosen came along, told me I would be in my 30's when things finally began to happen according to "The Plan", told me when I defied them to have children how long it would before that marriage broke apart, and even today sometimes I'll get told something that's going to happen. And overall they've been right, even with "The Plan". So on some level I know they're there as a real force.

There is an interesting story about the day I came to realize they were real people. I'll probably tell it next week, or some other time.


And I've figured out that in a very real capacity I seem to have a say in at least some of the dealings going on there.At first I did what everyone tends to do; I told myself I was the super uber important leader of the whole thing. I mean I knew I had two councils I dealt with, although I wasn't sure why I needed two separate cabinets. There was the group of 12 old guys and the group of 5 to 7 old guys (depending on who showed up). The smaller group would stand behind my chair at the tippy top of the coliseum and the group of 12 would meet with me in a separate room off to the side.

When I came across a presentation by George Kavassilas talking about the exact same political structure within the Council on High I felt very vindicated. (He, by the way, is also a nice guy.)

When I stopped to wonder how much of what was happening around me was real vs what was false, the Fishbowl was the first thing that fell in doubt. Maybe it was because the most I could get out my "Fishbowl channeler" was talk about the weather. Maybe it was also how I was placated by MUFON researchers and used by others who were in contact... and so many other things... I just had to step back and question the Fishbowl most of all. Was it real, or was it something I made up? Or was I being lied to and it was a big hologram construct?

So I announced formally the Fishbowl was being shut down until further notice. This was a few months ago. I've done it before, but this last time I was more serious than I had ever been. And last October I reopened it up again with this annual camping gather where I and those attached to it go and practice low-level psychic skills. (It almost didn't happen and I forgot to mention here that all went well, even though only 1 person and her fiance showed up.)

I wasn't sure what I was reopening... it just felt right, now that I'm using this blog to figure things out among other things, to start touching base with that again. To see what was there.

In my quest to learn more about the super soldier conundrum and to figure out where I fit in it, I came across Alara Blackwell. Of all the super soldiers out there, I found her interview to be the most believable. So my husband and I tracked her down and made contact.

She and I had a small chat on Skype and to my surprise she, also, was told not to open her eyes after a pickup. And then she started talking about doing things with her spirit guides and how, frustratingly for her, there had been no activity. She hadn't even been able to channel until last November.

It was an interesting confirmation I thanked her profusely for.

MY SOUL FLEW HOME.

1997 (Date estimated: back entry taken from my grimoire before it decayed entirely)
A vision/dream.

MY SOUL FLEW HOME.

I think this was the first time I've come home since I slept to astral travel out and search for Juvinich.  I did that lifetimes ago, and I stepped to earth as I always have been; an adolescent, the Earth equivalent of 14 years old, and small.

I walked down from the mountain and to my castle.  All around me was lush vegetation; the plant leaves were enormous and succulent.  I went to the back of the castle, which was covered in vines and overgrowth as if it had been in ruins for a very long time.  This was a definite change (in my mind) from when the place was inhabited and cared for.  I remember noticing how brown everything was.  I entered through a small side door; a servant's entrance and not well-known.  I had often used this door when not wanting to be noticed.

I walked through the halls, noting the disrepair of my home, and suddenly the regent came around the corner.  He was a redhead with wiry hair and a beard.  He stopped short and exclaimed, "You're back!!" as if overjoyed, and then he encased me in a bear hug.  Immediately, he called for servants (there were only three) and arranged to have me cared for.  We walked through the audience chamber, and sitting in my mother's chair was the regent's daughter.  She was blond and her hair flowed like shining silk.  She was not happy that I had returned and complained loudly.  She must have been in her twenties.

They put me in my old room, and how overjoyed I was to see they had kept things the way I had them! It was a small chamber, and most of the decor was red-brown.  My couch was there - gods, how I miss my couch at times - and I immediately went to sleep on it.

Time passed, most of it with me spending time in my bedroom among my familiar things.  The regent spent a lot of time playing with me; he taught me this chess-like game.  I was aware he was acting like the father I had never had in that life, and I adored him for it.

Came a day - perhaps three days after my arrival, no more than a week - that I finally ventured onto my balcony that adjoins my bedroom.  I love that balcony.  I started to sway and dance to myself, and I began singing, in English, "I am the princess of Shiro, and I have come home." I was very aware that I had switched to English.

And then, I was picked up by an invisible force; the castle was rejecting me, it was trying to throw me off and dash me to my death on the ground below.  It was all I could do to cling to the wall and repeat, "I rebuke you I rebuke you I rebuke you," over and over again as if I were fighting a demon.  When I realized I could not rebuke the castle - the very thing I commanded by rights - the force stopped.  I picked myself up and the regent came.

"Who are you really?" he demanded.  "The castle would not have rejected the REAL princess!  Who are you?!"

Somehow, I knew the regent's daughter had gone into the controls of the castle to try to throw me off, but I said nothing about that.  Instead, I opened my mind in the old way of communicating through mind/dream speech.  I began to tell the regent what had befallen me after I had left.  It began with me selling myself to the winged folk in the caves for the sake of my people, and working my way up through their army until I was a great general of much trust and importance.  The winged folk would send me to destroy and conquer - I was very good at it.

And then came a day that I was transporting my people via starship from one destination to another.  (Think trains for Comanche and Lakota Indians.)  I knew the kingdom's regent was on-board, so I went down to visit him.  I opened the door and... to my horror... the regent was sitting on a cell bench, but he had died ages ago and all that was left was a skeleton with a red beard.  I ran to the cargo hold and opened the doors to behold my people - the people I had sold myself to save - and what had been done to them.  Genetically manipulated, all of the people who were once revered to be the most shining and beautiful creatures in the cosmos were monsters such as ogres, walking skeleton creatures, and distorted things turned inside out.

I was furious.  I made a speech. I was passionate.  I cried, "Let's fight!" and they cheered.  I opened the cargo bay doors, and they streamed by the hundreds out into the ship to attack my own regiment.  I turned to my second in command, a blond young man with a somber/troubled expression, and said, "So begins my rebellion."  I would have returned my thoughts to the regent to face his shock or wrath, but I found myself being wrenched out of the dream instead.  I fought it; I didn't want to leave my home, but after much fighting I opened my eyes to (my ex-husband).  He had woke me and complained he had to send his demon to wrench me back to Earth.

Dammit, I was home.  The place needs me, I was home, and (my ex-husband) wouldn't let me stay.
________________
This vision/dream happened to me at a time when I was just beginning to truly explore what was in my head. In a sense it's where my story begins and is probably where I should have started this journal. My home was a place in the stars very far away and my people, as far as I believed, had been decimated in a huge invasion by "the black shelled beasts" who enslaved us and scattered the empire to the winds.

It was much much later I learned that among the UFO community there was the legend of the Lyrans that matched my story - well, except for the Pleiadian-born propaganda about the people having been too warlike as a reason why they fell apart. The way I remembered it, we chose to remain neutral and did not act to save our outlying regions which were falling prey to invasion and persecution by a new race of beings on the outside.

Also at the time there was a plague happening, something I came to call the "soap bubble disease." Basically people would just suddenly fall sick and fade away. I thought maybe it was because their souls were too old and were popping like decrepit bubbles. I had memories of watching my father fade and then my older brothers - and that the rest of the family had also met to tragic end after tragic end so that it was only me and my mother at the end.

I was the only survivor among my siblings. 

So we as a race acted to create a bridge between us and our enemies.... and to try to save our dying creed.  That was how I and my siblings came to be. We were created with immortal souls, a genetic blend of all races. We were the symbol of unity. My mother was from one of the more oppressed races and had been married in to my father. It was very important that he had midnight black hair - that black that's rare even among humans today - and she was a fiery strawberry redhead. I had my father's hair. Something I also learned much later was how black hair was reserved for the Lyran nobility, so again another match.


She wore a grieving mask - which was traditional like we would wear black today. As a small child watching her pass by me in the hallways of our large "ant hill" I was given the impression that being forced to be queen made her sad. Now I'm older and I think it was much more than that.

(Stop me if I've talked about this here before. I honestly forget what I've talked about and what I have not; it gets confused in my mind.)

So these memories stand and have always stood foremost in my mind, like a beacon summoning me into my future.

My older brother and I were talking on the phone today, and the subject of these things and how we used to look forward to our roles in the future came up. He complained that someone had tampered with the plan. Things had fallen behind, some things had been changed. And our roles had been diminished.

But I look at this ever bright memory in my mind and how things are happening today and I'm just not sure. We expected one thing out of fate, the cosmic plan, and our lives without really understanding what we were being "told". So we interpreted things according to our juvenile fantasies. But I look at how things are happening, at where I stand today, and where others stand, and I think things are happening just as we expected them to be... from the government oppression to starvation in the streets. They're all things I wanted desperately to avoid, tried frantically to find a way off planet to avoid them by, and am now watching at the age I was told they would happen. My feelings about leaders and acts of Congress are the same now as they were at the age of 10 - I just understand why I felt the way I do now. So that watching history unfold around me has given myself a deeper understanding of myself and my memories more than anything.

And that bright memory which I got to relive quite literally in 1997 still calls me home... the thing that has changed for me is I no longer want to go "home" in order to escape this mess. I want to go home - there - because it's a place I can do something about things.

Jaded in Jacksonville 19

Just my personal thoughts and feelings in regards to Pleiadian belief vs. what I was taught and believe my own self. No more. No less.

Council on High

Loki was on a cloud nearby as Choshu and I read cards. He offered his service. At first he said it was free. When I didn't buy into it and asked him what he got out of the deal, he said he would do it for a bottle of wine. Choshu fell for it. So did Lhung when I told him later. I guess you have to know a trickster very well to catch when they're fooling you. Deals were made, but I no longer have hope for anything. "You were gaining lucidity all along," the Fishbowl pointed out as negotiations happened. Yes, I told them. But the masters caught on and they put me back to square one. I need help, and I find no such thing with the mortals. Not that, nor loyalty, nor even a husband willing to defend his family. .... Wake time visions.... Had another nightmare last night. Tim went to a super soldier program and was physically enhanced. He was given the tube by which the liquid would be poured into your body. He felt that it was stupid how they handled the super drug: by keeping it in a locked box and refusing access unless there was dire need. We were at a two building hotel for this. And he left me behind again; on the cell phone in the pool talking to others while I wondered where he was. When he came out to talk to me, I wanted to push him in the water and leave him there. But it was the shallow end of the pool and I was afraid it would hurt him. We were talking up to get in the elevator to go to our room when I was woke up with him calling to talk to me. ... don't think I can take much more of this.

council on high

Peter Moon. Well I think it was Peter Moon. I was in my bedroom, standing by my bed. For some reason he called me, but instead of my cellphone I picked up an old landline receiver. He was very confused as to why he had called. The color of the conversation was dark blue/grey. At first I tried to discuss MILAB things, but he hedged away from the topic. He tried changing it, but it was as though he couldn't formulate a sentence. Being as I was taking him to be a famous editor (for some reason), I finally guided him to talk to me about my comic book. "Tell me about your stories," he finally asked as if having a Eureka moment - this is what I'm supposed to be talking about. So I did. There was also a Matrix rip-off dream: something to feed the desires of everyone about being the One and found. I in a city street: them in their black cloaks literally stepping out of light poles. Getting chased by reptiles that came out of the concrete. It turned into a cartoon movie which made me want to cry. Old hobos wiping mirrors to see the story that was told play in them. I've been working with a lot of hobos lately. There was also a moment when I knew I was laying in bed and a series of tones was being played. It reminded me of the beginning to Firefly by Owl City. Then a thought was put into my mind by a low male voice. It was a mode of thinking to turn around something I was already pondering. I knew it for what it was and that shattered the "dream". Fishbowl had a summit the other day. Yes, I did attend... it's the only real activity we've had in a while. Since I've managed to make contact with some people in the proper way *and* another demand of mine (meeting some in person with my "court') may be answered in a few days.... I shall reopen Council and stop doing everything by myself. See, they're mortals here too. They also hate being left out I guess.

Jaded (from) Jacksonville 18

Just my philosophy on finding your soul mate - what with Valentine's Day coming and all. -and an old channeled Fishbowl report. If I had more time to do things, it would not be an old Fishbowl report because it would be on the 'net by now. But. It's an old Fishbowl report. This is all old footage from 2009, and it might stay that way until 1. I catch up and 2. my stolen camera is replaced somehow. Being as insurance companies are all thieves, I suspect that's not happening anytime soon. =^-^=

I try to use only work and music I find from open source avenues - so if it was marked as open source, I pretty much thought it was alright. As a result, all of my Jaded in Jax files are open to use under the fair rights act as well as for your own derivative works. Not that anything I do is good enough for that.



 

Jaded in Jacksonville 17

Jaded in Jacksonville 16

Well, my camera was stolen but I still have things on my hard drive to process and get out.

This is where I took an old rant from last February and cut it up. It's complete with caustic comments, angsty stances regarding getting people fired from the Council on High, news updates involving recent visions, a speech from John F. Kennedy, and macro scenes from my front yard. I was pretty mad at a lot of UFO type people that week due to stumbling across some bigoted jerks, so I was just kind of shooting off at the mouth. This is actually only part of the rant footage. I still have more to work on here to get off my hard drive.

I try to use only work and music I find from open source avenues - so if it was marked as open source, I pretty much thought it was alright. As a result, all of my Jaded in Jax files are open to use under the fair rights act as well as for your own derivative works. Not that anything I do is good enough for that.

Jaded in Jacksonville 15

There isn't very much by the way of profound in this vlog. I just took a moment to put together a quickie for the sake of making sure my vlog had something fresh and certain events with the Fishbowl (the Council of NIne... the Intergalactic Federation... whatever you wanna call it) were recorded... because I like having stuff recorded. I do mention George Kevassalis, but only because it's part of what happened. Sorry I'm not as... eeeh.... number-saavy as some folks.

No really. I care. I swear I care. I know it doesn't show on my impassive and uncaring face, but I care! I do!!

I even blipped out most of the swear words this time. =^-^=

Dream, Council on High

I was visited last night. The back history here is that I haven't been going to the Fishbowl in a while. To be quite frank about it, I've been feeling very disheartened about a lot more than frogs in boiling water lately. The overall state of affairs that I see and frequently experience has become disheartening, and I guess you could say I've begun to lose my faith. The overall result is a tendency to desire outright mundanity and to lose the 95% of myself that makes me a living breathing person to begin with. I've been seriously considering just flat... I dunno... going stupid I guess you could call it, which part of me acknowledges is an utter impossibility but there are times I'd like to try. I was born breathing "the mists of ambiance energy" and literally could not be removed from it without just dying. But day-um people. But upon review, what reason have I to continue dealing with a Council on High the way they handle matters with us mere mundanes below? Yes, I am aware that there are times they simply cannot explain. There are times that you just have to trust them, and there are dozens and hundreds of dozens of simple events in my life that speak loudly for "be patient, you padawan." But there is this other issue, this all-important other issue, that I've been getting dodged about. They have given me excuses, which means that there is no reason to be patient. They've even lied. They've placated in order to get me to wait, and then wait some more. I've been patient about it because of the other dozens of examples, and the fulfilled promises, and related factors. Patient and patient while being told I had final command. They haven't done anything wrong. They've done their jobs, and they've done it superbly. But then we get to those who work with them that are also, like myself, aware. Contact them and I am ignored. Reach out to them and I am directed to fluff fluff e-mail lists filled with propaganda and bullshit. Seek to build the physical bridges that are so very needed and required for our final jobs here and I am met with a wall of ego or paranoia, take your pick. So maybe I'm lonely, or maybe I feel more than ever I've been shouting unheard in a very large crowd. Either way this suxors. Nothing is getting done, and we the Council on High are our own worst enemy. Or something like that. Other things have begun to happen in the real world, and I've had to look at once again putting major factors of my role and duty on hold to somehow find a paying job and protect house and home. Mind you, without those things I'll begin to whither. I literally cannot live without them, and I cannot deal with pushing them down. Hooray being an innate and full-fledged shamanistic type. But anyway. All I've heard from on High for years is that the quest would begin to pay for itself, and that the needed things would come to me. Ha, once again I'm not seeing it. I feel that whomever is in charge of finance is a total idiot on some days. So I threw up my hands, and I literally walked away. For days I've been hearing here and there to come back. I've been pushed and prodded, given signals and signs. I've ignored them all. Talking to the Other Half last night on the phone, I did casually mention that part of my sorrow was the loss of doing comic books. This story that I tell I used to try to tell to all of the 'kin over ten years ago, and I was often pushed aside because no one wanted to hear it. But it's an important story, truly it is. Okay fine, so I'm in it. So are a lot of other people, and the telling of this story is important for them. And somehow I feel it's important for the world, so I have found a good way to tell it that doesn't have people telling me to shaddup. =^-^= I'm doing my JOB and I'm doing it RIGHT and dammit all to hell..... I'm often approached by representatives, angry council members, frustrated secretaries, etc. when I'm laying down to sleep or am already sleeping. Each have their own way of approaching. Some walk straight up and go right into screaming at me. Others approach timidly and wait for me to notice them. But overall unless they're part of my personal Seven (Nine, Twelve or Three), they stand a certain amount away from my feet and keep that special distance. Last night as I lay on my bed - I wasn't sleeping very well because the air mattress isn't keeping air so well anymore - in that alpha state the Fishbowl treasures so much I was approached by a thin blond young man. He was probably in his twenties with short hair. He wore a green t-shirt. This one walked right up to me and sat right down next to me. He began speaking very quickly, as if he didn't have much time or maybe he was afraid I was going to tell him to go the fuck away. =^-^= Either way, his tone was on purpose set in a hopeful and positive manner and he was telling me something about the comic book... something about... a plan I guess. I can't remember the discussion at all. But I did wake up remembering some things on it I had to do. And that's what happened recently. Hope you enjoyed the tale.

Jaded in Jacksonville 14

Ever wonder about what you're here to do on this Earth? Just what is your role? What are all our roles? Okay, yeah, I'm not claiming to have the answers. A wise man is a man who never claims to be wise,. =^-^= But I do give a clue on how to find the answers within yourself in this particular vlog. As well, Choshu discusses her role with the Council on High (Intergalactic Federation or Council of Light or whatever it's being called this month) while we see some nifty footage of the Buddha Temple in Tampa, Florida.

 

Jaded in Jacksonville 12

Okay so in this blog I talk a few minutes about one of the departments with the Council on High. Then I talk about Lyrian (and Intergalactic history) while making references to Narnia. Because I'm clever like that.

Council on High

I was doing yoga a few days ago, a day in which a hateful little troll told me that the advice MZB and RP had passed down to me from their vast experience was a load of BS. This upset me, of course... to be told that the past year was a waste of time because I spent some of it making sure a certain comic script was tidy and worth my attention. (I dislike last minute scripts. You can tell a last minute script in a lot of cases. The dialogue is usually crappy, the characters .5 dimensional much less only 1, and the overall flow says "I'm a lazy writer!".) So I was doing yoga and obeying the commands of a long gone temple to forget about the pathetic little son of a bitch. While stretching I began to wonder. "Y'all know I won't because it wouldn't be justified," I said to the Fishbowl at large, namely the Council of 9 my personal bunch of old men... and whomever else was listening, who can say.... "But... if I WERE to decide to punish that little bastard for trolling me like that, you wouldn't stop me... right? RIGHT?" The response was a vision of the color purple. "What the fuck," I thought as I pulled away disgusted at the response. As I pulled away, however, I also was able to step away from what they were showing me and got a better view. It wasn't just the color purple that they showed to me. It was a cluster of purple grapes. What the hell. While I was driving and pondering the message, someone up there said to me, "The grapes of WRATH you idiot!" LOL Point taken.... but... that wasn't what I was asking, people! I was asking if I really was the boss or was I going to have to go all grape on them!

Council on High

1-20-2009, approximately 3 am. "Pink slip," the slightly overweight Oriental guy said to the skinny brunette Caucasian guy who was sitting at his wooden desk. The Oriental guy was smiling, very happy, as he leaned over the desk and wrapped his right arm around the other guy's shoulders to shake him as if to say "It will be alright" when it really wasn't. The Oriental (Japanese?) guy wore a grey business suit. The other guy wore brown. I would say the Japanese guy must have been gloating. Caucasian guy looked down at his desk clearly very depressed. Japanese guy looked up, saw me standing there, and saluted with his free hand. This action broke me from the vision. I wasn't even asleep yet when I saw this... I was laying in bed thinking about some certain people who needed to be fired from the Fishbowl.

politics

This happened two nights ago. During the hours that I lately have started to lay awake, unable to even get tired much less sleep, the Council on High came to me. I was wide awake; this was not a dream. There were about four this time who came to talk. I cannot remember what the topic was, but one was a man. He wanted me to do something or was against something; I do not know what it was. He had a small young female aide whose presence I could feel but being as I could not see them (they were telepathic contacts to the mind only) I could not tell you much about her. I can't remember who the fourth person was even if they were there. The third person was a woman who stood by my side as he talked. They debated as I listened. I was a little annoyed that they were bothering me at that time and told them to go away. The man said something in an irritated tone, and the woman said, "He is working with a certain program that you are dealing with." So I lay there, you know, wondering what the fuck program was that. -_- They should be more specific. Apparently pure lucidity is not enough. There should be floggings to ensure complete cooperation as well.

dream, MILAB

I had a dream the other night that I was writing something on my computer. It was a letter to someone else but I used a racial slur - except that I spelled the racial slur wrong. The important part here is that throughout the dream I was filled with feelings. I had to let go of the slurs, I told myself, because that was why I had not attained avatarhood yet. -_- I know the point behind the dream, but damn if I want to shave my head and tattoo myself with a giant blue arrow. A department with the Council on High came forward to me 2 nights ago just as I had barely laid my head on the pillow. They didn't even wait for proper protocols, and the snot-nosed young ladies (about 18 years old and blond, was the leader... wearing red) plead that I reconsider the most recent firing of their department head. I had decided that person would be fired here in the waking world because, well, I am sick and tired of glory hounds and people who can't swallow that lump of fear or get over themselves long enough to get anything done. I told the little petitioners, when I realized why I was being annoyed in my waking waiting-to-go-to-sleep state, that the woman had my phone number. She had ways to show me she was serious. It had been months. If she could prove me otherwise, I'd reconsider. They went away without another word.... but I still had trouble falling asleep. Grrrr. When I finally fell asleep, I went places. Maybe physically like some abductee. Who can say. I was boarding the underground train and I had 2 male guards. I mistook them for Mike and Redwood. I was lucid enough to remember my daily life. I turned to the Mike guard and said, "I have to go to work now." Very brightly, because announcing it just seemed like the thing to do. "I beg your pardon?" the guy said. "I have to go to work now," I repeated, and then boarded the train car. I remember the sides of the train were grey, and inside the car was dark. I must have come home early, because later I was having a legitimate dream. I can't recall much of it. Something about a smoky grey cat.

dream, vision

I am in the middle of a move from Florida to Illinois right now. This was a vision had while in a hotel. Saraen and Rebecca were with me in the other bed. I wasn't asleep. I was laying there *trying* to go back to sleep, but I was also thinking. You see recently I spoke with an oracle who also turned out to serve the Fishbowl. Like all the rest, she warned me to lay low because my life was in danger. -_- I was considering this and imagiining a conversation with Saraen. I do that a lot; imagine conversations. It's like a simulator in my head. Suddenly Saraen said to me, "Blue, I want you to bond with me." She grabbed my fright hand, and I could feel it in this vision. I jerked my hand away and said, "Bond with what?" because this upset and startled me. Suddenly all was blackness and in the blackness there was an old circlet: one of the old old ones you can only find in memory. The metal was flat and there were no decorations, as it must be. It was very shiny. I studied the gleams and curvatures for a minute before realizing what was going on. So I sat up in bed and chewed Saraen out. LOL. She was so confused.

vision, regression

I had a dream the other night that I went to a mansion; wandered up the long walk past the growing green trees and across the great lawn. I was accepted therein, which was fine for I was without destination nor even a place to hang my head. I was a young person, albeit myself, and I had been to this very place in dreams before throughout this body's lifespan. So I walked through familiar rooms serving this or doing that; neither an employee of the house nor master nor even guest. The young people came to the front door: Cas and a score of blond college students. I had opened the door to their knock to politely let them in, but when I saw Cas in formal attire (cumberbun as well; silk and dark gray-black with touches of white) I turned my face away in cold disdain. I did not give them the door then, and they had to let themselves in. I would not serve these people who had the nerve to expect it of me. I wandered through secret passageways: out of the lake-bordered back yard and into a little door hidden behind brick and cobbelstone. The butler showed that to me in a kind way; look at this. So I went inside and down a tiny dark hall to a little hidden room where someone lived. There were silk pillows and silk lanterns, but the old man that dwelled there I cannot remember now. I wandered out of there from curiosity and to my delight, the secret inside door was next to the pantry door. I wondered perhaps there was a secret within the cellar-pantry as well, so I opened the little white door with the golden curved door handle. There was a dog inside, and it resembled a red and white shepherd breed. It looked at me and I it. It's sharp knife intelligence probed towards me as if to ask who I was. And perhaps I would have answered for by then I was having the usual dialogue with myself as the wiser, suppressed parts gave me information. The problem is that the butler came and asked me to do something, so my attention was drawn away from the fabulous find. I walked away without shutting the pantry door. A little later in the dream - I cannot remember when - I realized that the dog was Fenris. There was to be a wedding, and it would happen in the backyard by the lake. Lindsey was in the wedding dress, and the college kids gathered around her. Cas was on the fringe, not really belonging as is his damnable due. Again I turned my back and gave them a cold sentence; I would not serve them in this either. I walked away towards the little door. Or perhaps the wedding scene happened BEFORE I released Fenris. I am none too sure. There is an old wive's tale that to dream of a wedding is to foretell of a funeral. Vice versa should you dream of a funeral. During the rare times I have dreamed of weddings and funerals in detail, this has proven to be so for me. At any rate, yesterday was my first official hypnotherapy session. Ami-chan was kind enough to guide me. It struck me as very very much like the one time I went to a past life regression, and so I consider that I can experiment to do so for myself in the future. The sessions were taxing for Ami-chan, I suspect, and it was difficult for me due to distractions and insecurity - not of myself but that others would see those secrets I harbor. The first session was clear enough - more clear than anything I had ever been to before. I saw mountains, but the entire time Kausha had been making fun of Ami-chan so I ended up shouting at the sprite to hush. The second time, Ami-chan used what she called the elevator method, but when she called upon me to step into that elevator my mind realized that I wasn't sure what an elevator should look like. So I stood before a dumbwaiter or perhaps an elevator from the old days. The top where the doors would be was decorated with intricate gingerbread lattice work, but the room when it came up was of pure white light. It kept going. Then it came up again and kept going. And came up again and kept going. Finally I took a stick and jammed it still so I could crawl inside. Inside there was supposed to be five buttons: G, for the ground floor where I stood. A for the first floor, then B, then C, and finally D which would take me to my personal inner Akashik library where I could read the life I have been struggling to regain. She said for me to hit the A button and rather than go up the elevator took me down. The doors opened and I faced an underground car parking lot... only it was dark and filthy with dirt on the walls. There were cobwebs everywhere, and I knew fear. The other part of myself - she who is separate and possibly the true body's owner - said, "I hope she doesn't expect us to get out here." I was half tempted to step out because my fear, to me, meant that this was where I needed to go. But Ami-chan directed me to go to the B floor. I did and the doors opened to brilliant blue-green ocean water. This is the third time a session has presented deep sea water, and still yet I've no clue what it could mean. The C floor was a wind-blown desert with high sandy dunes and dry air. While going up to D, the great eye of Metatron greeted me. His eye was blue this time, and it wasn't that he was saying no so much as he "stood" in my way. I flew up to him and asked him to move aside, and after a tiny argument the eye became glass as if to a window. I looked beyond and there... was the Fishbowl. I hovered over the Fishbowl and beheld the most beautiful aerial view of the place. I could see the tiny seats and the blue panels. And I thought, "Oh! So it's BLUE!" - for when rollercoasting I do not see any color but barely made out shapes and never any sound. That was when I realized that I was no longer hypnotised but had floated onto a rollercoast; a far seeing adventure. After a while we tried again. Ami-chan tried the door method that time; there are doors that lead to all the lives and parts of your life you need to know. You know which door to pick. And yes I did. I stood in the great underground chamber of the kingdom of the Lizard folk; the great round area and faced grey double doors decorated on top with curly engravings. And then I noticed all the doors around me. The room was huge and as I turned slowly I beheld hundreds and hundreds of little wooden doors side by side with barely a foot between them. So many doors I told Ami-chan... and that was when Choshu made sound behind my left shoulder. I, who was vulnerable in that moment, probed the energy there and saw a pretty shiny dwarf axe engraved with hearts: my interpration of her signature. And so, with an axe behind me, the mood was split again. We tried one more time after that by trying to go directly in. And so I stood on the mountain I had originally almost reached when I yelled at Kausha. It was a field of flowers, and upon behelding their spikey white petals I was afraid of what I was going to remember. These flowers, I also knew, no longer grew here on this world. I walked forward and the sharp leaves cut my right knee. I was small; the flowers reached up just to my thighs. And I wore a woolen dress akin to a 11th century peasant gown. It was faded brown. There was something like a blanket over a rope or perhaps a makeshift tent. The cloth was thick thick wool and I could see it. But nothing more. The need to conquer the fear wells up in me even now.