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.
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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.

Let us begin with....

Dorica Manu got in contact with me first thing yesterday morning and we had the session as was planned last weekend. I'm glad I hadn't completely lost hope in her: sometimes people do surprise you, even when you're used to 99% disappointment.

I thought perhaps I would speak about the session here, but I had another post planned before that - and after pondering if for a full day I realize I have to do the other post first. I have to start from the beginning so that those who choose to walk with me in this journey can understand fully where I am coming from. I've already mentioned this starting point, but while watching the lecture I mentioned before I knew I was going to have to put it down - to record that I already knew what I know. Because people so often call me a liar.

"I was born in a blue valley." That's how the story begins, and it's a phrase the Otherkin hated to hear coming from my lips. Back then I was in a rut: I had to tell this story over and over again, as if saying it just once didn't make it heard well enough. The truth is I didn't feel heard - and I probably wasn't, unless you want to count the three people who got to know me long enough to hear my origins and then claimed my story as their own. (Sick fucks that they were.) I still don't feel heard today, but I've long since grown past the need to tell this story repeatedly. So here, let me say it here - this time because I have to, not because I want to. At least it's well rehearsed.

I was born in a blue valley in, what I believed for most of my life, to be another planet far away from here. It was the capital home of what I've always described inside as "the shining empire" - and the valley housed "the Anthill", which was a naturally dug out tower of granite, the kind that flashed pink in the setting sun. That was what we lived in, above - and below us in the caverns dwelled the winged dragon people: large warm-blooded dragons with bird-like fur.

My word for that valley is Shiro - and no matter how I've tried I never have been able to find a name for the world itself. It was a blue valley because all of the plants had a blue cast to them - rather like Kentucky blue grass or a blue fir tree. It was a temperate climate with cool rains and short, mild winters. Old, tree-covered mountains surrounded the valley, which was dominated by a sweeping flat plain in which the Anthill stood.

I lived at the top of the Anthill, in a secluded room with a balcony that I stood upon to view the tiny village and golden grasslands below. Years ago I never thought to question why I'd need to be isolated from the rest like that, but now I think perhaps it's because my "makers" felt the need to protect everyone else from my presence. I was different: a hybrid, as it were - a successful one of multiple races and strange blood. In me burned the fire of a sun - and that's what I was, a baby star come to physical flesh and a world that didn't know what to make of it.

But we were humans - and avians - and so the proper term I suspect is "phoenix".

Mind you there were others like me, just as there are dozens that are better than me now. I wasn't unique, just different. I have a memory of my first conscious thoughts - opening my eyes from where I hung suspended in the row of tubes. We were created in sets of fives, and I was very aware of my brothers and sisters. The doctors walked by and did their rounds, checking and always checking. And soon after I first awoke for the first time I reached my energy tendrils out and pulled in the sleeping essence of my siblings back into myself where it belonged: I was not meant to be a tendril. I was not meant to be split. I belonged whole, so I fixed it in my own way. I ate them.

My particular parents - the ones who gave their DNA, eggs, and money for my birth - were the rulers. My father was dark of hair and eye. I barely remember him. There was a plague back then, the plague that actually facilitated the creation of monsters like myself. I've always called it the Soap Bubble disease, because our souls had grown so old and the DNA matrix could no longer support their energy. So like old soap bubbles that float in the air, the souls would pop into nothing. My father died of it. During that time I remember an older brother who also died of it - wasted away on his couch bed with no one nearby, because no one knew what to do.

My mother was a redhead, and this somehow was special. My only memories of her are watching her walk by me as I played in the hallway - she was always so sad. After my father was gone, she put on the Mask of Sorrow - which was a custom, kind of like a mourning veil but it was a stupid mask - and barely spoke to anyone. Certainly not to me. So most of my adult interaction was with the regent - also a redhead. He taught me a chesslike game and was more a father to me than my real one.

There are other memories from this time, but they've always remained undefined. I know I was "exiled" for a short time for being a pain in the ass. I was sent away to a school where I felt even more out of sorts than I did at home. Then I was allowed to return. I don't really remember what my crime was.

I naturally took to weapons of war and not peace - something which drove my elders batshit crazy. There was a building in the back far behind the Anthill where weapons were kept: these gun things that worked like bows and shot heat. Sort of like what the Reptilians use today. I snuck into it and got one of them and was target practicing with Juvinich (my word for him), a boy who'd come as my friend. I accidentally burned down one of the trees that my father had had imported from "Earth". That caused a ruckus.

I loved Juvinich dearly: too dearly. When I was a kid, remembering this stuff, I mistook my memories of these feelings to be a puppy love. But now I have to wonder; was it that sort of love or just an intense fondness for the only person of age who was willing to be a friend?

Although there was at least one other friend: a young dragon girl who, here on Earth with me, remembers some rather amusing things about what a trial I was to raise.

I remember being very small, probably about the equivalent of four years of age, and coming to Earth with my father. The place we landed, also in the mountains, was scraped raw and muddy. There were people tilling the land and building things. My father and a few other men were in a room discussing things. There was a glass-encased balcony there and I stood at the glass, watching things below. My father came and gently picked me up. He said, "Don't fall now" and carried me back to where they were.

And I remember when everything fell apart.

I knew there was political upheaval: you can't miss it when your mother is continuously in the council room seeing people and everyone is upset over nothing. I was probably about 14 of age (equivalent) at the time. I also know we had chosen to remain neutral against what was going on - but I couldn't tell you just what it was.

I had developed the sneaky habit of disappearing on my tutors or whatever it was I had to do that day and hiding in the grasslands. I liked to lay in the grass and feel the sunlight warm my body. I was there that day when the ships came out of the sky. I remember being in the grass, which was over my head, and looking up to see them in flight formation.

They were black, triangular, and sharp. They swooped down on the Anthill and opened up on the people below. I started running home - what else could I do? - as the ships swooped by again and again and again. I got to the edge of the Anthill courtyard just in time for my mother, who was running to see me. She started to run towards me and I her - and that's when one of the ships fired her in the back. Her blood spurted all over my pale blue satin slippers.

So I stood there in shock in front of my mother's dead body, watching everything happen around me. I probably would have died there and this would be the end of my story had it not been for Juvinich, who grabbed my hand and pulled me away from everything. The Anthill was situated very close to the foothills and mountains, so he took me that way. We didn't stop fleeing until we could turn and look over things from a safe vantage. And that's how I watched as the firing stopped, the ships landed, and the survivors were loaded up to be taken away. Probably into slavery - that's what I thought when I was younger.

Juvinich and I stayed deep in the forest on the mountain - there was a cave there - for a long time. One day he left me to live alone. And I stayed that way a long time with  nothing but a few pets to keep me. I learned to hide well: if I saw a ship in the sky I disappeared as quickly as I could.

One time I went down to the emptied anthill and walked the halls. I danced in the ballroom to myself, remembering a party from my childhood. Heh. That stupid movie Anastasia - I've remembered that moment for most of my life. When I saw that similar ballroom scene in Anastasia, I was caught between outrage that it was in the movie and pain at the reminder.

One day the loneliness was too much. I put myself to sleep and astral traveled outward. I met a "Glowbright" in the other realm, who brought me into his mouth, swallowed me, and spit me out as an "angel". But I remained different - because I had to be. I thought I was the last of my kind.

When there was some trouble in Glowbright Land, I fled for my life. I passed the layers of existence until I came back to this 3rd plane and found Earth. I remembered it and zeroed in, came to land here and to my surprise found DNA that was still close enough to me that it could house my energy well. And I've been on Earth ever since, after a fashion. I rarely go anywhere else. This is my home and my star.

But these memories may not be real, you see? There's a lot more to them - a lot more - and when I watch some researcher put together the galactic history of DNA or some other cogness I usually nod my head. Or shake it, saying "Well, they're close but no cigar!"

But if it could be put in my head as an implanted memory, it could be put in other people's heads - where the pieces are coming from.So.

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.

Jaded in Jacksonville 7