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.

Time for A Paradox

This story comes from a long ways away.

Once upon a time I had this dream:
2005-10-26 23:54:00
In my dreams last night, I was with Jessie on some great, green lawn. Jessie said to me, "Someone is here. He's your husband from the future, and he's here to tell you something. You died in fire in a warehouse."

I'm not sure if he said warehouse, but I think that's what he said.

The future husband had long, curly brown hair and a roundish face. At least, that's how his face appeared one minute. Then it changed, and I could see lines and a different structure. I studied it, trying to see if he was someone I knew. I wondered if it was Jack. He told me that I'd not recognize him this way, that it had been a long time and he had changed.

He said that he had brought newspaper clippings with him so that I could read what the newspapers had said about the fire. Jessie objected, saying I shouldn't read them. I grabbed Jessie by the collar and said forcefully, "Jessie, you know what it is I have to do. You know what it is I'm here on Earth for. You KNOW I have to pay strict attention to the future, all of the time, and I WILL read those newspaper clippings!"

Looking at my future husband, something told me that he missed me... I mean there I was this younger version of the woman he'd married, and I hadn't married him yet. It must've been hard. I kissed him full on the mouth, and at first he returned the kiss but then pushed me away.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know you must be uncomfortable."

"Thank you," he replied.

We went away from the field to talk, and we entered this dark little trailer in the middle of a swamp area. I don't know what happened to him. I was there, waiting for him to come talk to me about this thing he'd come to say, but he wasn't there yet. There were mushroom growing on the wall; miniature versions of the kind you find on tree trunks. They were lined up like little soldiers, or trees at a tree farm. I ate them one by one, thinking thatI wasn't hungry at all and I should stop.

I woke up from that dream, the way I do when things are a message, before my alarm clock rang when it was still dark outside.
***
And then I met him and married him.

2009-07-01 18:21
Note: I am now married and my husband has a round face and brown curly hair.
*** 

And have been stressed and worried about dying in a warehouse fire ever since.
So on Saturday night I'm in bed listening to him snore and worrying about dying in a warehouse. I worried about how sad he would be, you know. The typical things you worry about.
And They said to me, "We can fix that." The message came to me from the right frontal side of my head. I can't remember the exact way they said it, but they basically said they'd change my fate. And I knew, the way I always know, that it was time for a Peer review - which is basically when they take the folks who have certain roles on this planet, review their actions, hearts and minds, and see if they get to stay in their job. Or, if the contract is up, if they want to go for another round. It's all very legal.
I said, sure. I'd work some more... but I wasn't willing to exchange the life of my children, my husband, father, or really anybody to save my own. Imagine: living out a long life with such a sorrow on your shoulders.
I don't know if I fell asleep at night or not. I do remember feeling frightened and uneasy through this and wondering what on earth had set me off. The TV shows hadn't. I didn't know. And then I happened to notice tht there were 3 humanoid figures in my room by the bed in a row.
So I freaked and tried to crawl across the bed to my husband's side of the bed by the wall away from the figures and the edge of the bed. I'm kinda scared of the edge of the bed.
And while I'm doing that it's the typical thing. You're scared but you've got something inside of you telling you that you're faking being afraid, you're faking everything, you're imagining it, etc.
Tim started to wake up and said, "What are you doing?" very clearly. Normally he'd have gotten right up. But he didn't. He lay there like a stone, you know. And after a while I calmed down and fell asleep.
The next day I woke up very early, which is a habit of mine when I've "worked" and just kind spent the day in a foul mood and panicky.

Here's the thing. Got a call from one of my "hand maidens" a few hours ago. It appears Saturday night she also was picked up. She woke up that night to a very tall being in her room to collect her. And no matter how she told herself she needed to get up and confront things, she couldn't.

Thing is... were they lying? If so, this will happen. If not, as I have accepted another round of work, then we have a time paradox.

I know from experience you can change time. Oh, if you want to change a huge event you need several sets of people because that's a lot of flow you have to fight against. Picture standing on the beach alone when the tide is coming in, and you're trying to turn the tide with only your hands. Kinda hard, isn't it.
But there was this one time when I worked in a probation office and I couldn't find a particular folder. My supervisor was a former Navy officer, and she was awesome - but I knew me having to go to her all of the time to find things was getting to her. It would get to me.
She was out of the office when this was happening, so as I looked I worried. I didn't want to have to ask her where the stupid folder was. And then I remembered a deja vous dream I had as a teenager of that very event, and in the dream Navy Supervisor was indeed irrirated. And lectured me on not thinking for myself as she went and got the folder, showed me were it was.
And I realized: oh. She showed me where it was. I'll go to where she showed me it was.
And I found the folder.

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 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.