Two dreams, and how they bookend my reality. The first dream I will describe happened on Sunday night--the night that I felt seriously vetted for entry into an occult faction clique. I have not yet written on it, but it was made clear to me (thank God for sci-fi shows), what the cost would be. A couple of the items entail a major change in my bodily self-identity, but since that has gone to pot anyways, they were no hardship. The third item, though, was a stunner, though in retrospect I should have guessed it a long time ago. Now, I am not going to elaborate on this, but I just bring it up, to set the framework for the dreams. I was shocked by the revelation of what a "turbocharged body" would entail, and being the kind of person, who absorbs emotional information slowly, I went to bed somewhat ambivalent. This ambivalence was reflected in my dream that Sunday night. I dreamed of three Black boys--13 or 14 years old, and they were youngsters in the country South, and used to the freedom of running around, being unaccountable all day long, and doing what they wanted--and that included, eating out of other farmers' fields. I know it was the South, because the fields were full of tall, high-yield crops and produce, with vibrantly green corn and big, fat tomatoes. Someone approached the boys and told them, that they were getting too old to act like children anymore, and that if they wanted to eat from other's gardens, then they were going to have to pay for it, and that meant working for the farmers who produced the crops. Well, two of the boys agreed, and followed the person out. However, the third boy, from both fear of a loss of freedom, and a mischievous sense of independence, ran back into the woods and hid, deciding that he was going to check things out for a while, before he followed the other two. In the meantime, he was going to keep on eating, because after all, with all that overflowing abundance, the farmers wouldn't miss an ear of corn or a single melon, here and there.
Now, my interpretation of the dream is that the three Black boys were me, representing three dimensions of my personality--not schizoid per se, but more along the lines of intellectual, emotional, and spiritual aspects of my being. The way I interpret my sense of Jungian self, is that of three males with a blonde, blue-eyed anima figure which is a woman. There was no anima in my dream--I am pretty sure that the adult was a big male, but I cannot recall seeing this person at all. Anyway, wthout question, the most "inferior" (as defined by Jungian psychology), aspect of my psyche is the emotional part, and I think that is the element of my personality that decided it was going to maintain the status quo, even after being delivered an ultimatum. Big mistake.
Well, the following day was the day of the interdimensional raid and escapade, in which I participated, via bi-locating, while riding my bike. Oh yeh, little rebel homeboy was eating from the farmer's garden again, and since he hadn't agreed to pay for it, dark entities stepped in, and exacted the tribute toll that they, kings of the parasite world, demand from all those who enter their realm where predators and parasites take without contributing in return.
That was the karmic setup for being flipped, and boy, did they flip me good. They basically turned me into a zombie drone in the interdimensional world--which is the REAL world. Now, they were able to do this, because they were playing on my emotional/psychological traumatic memories of my mother and childhood abuse, but they would not have been so successful had I abided by the laws of the world in which I now live--at least part time. For whatever reason, it has been decreed that I no longer get a free pass for my interdimensional travels, and if I am going to play, I got to pay. If I violate this rule, the rogue KaBalists--the Amon-RA vampires, the white supremacists Arcturians and the rogue Faction 2 Nazis and sex perverts--are going to make sure that I spend two or three days feeling like shit in the 3D world, while being a practical zombie in the interdimensional world. That is, if I am lucky. If I am really unlucky, really stupid, or really hellbent on evil, then being a parasitically drained zombie (aka, big fancy title--"reptile princess") is going to be my lot for the rest of my incarnation. God knows that I have seen plenty of walking zombies here in the Mars MATRIX. "Step right up, sell your soul for the purple motorcycle, and let us feed on your zombie soul for the rest of your born days".
I would like to think that I am not that stupid. It took me TWO ENTIRE days, to snap out of the zombie mode, and still another day, on top of that, to truly feel like a human being again. Both times, healing sex was involved. Now, I am not going to say that everybody is going to find intimate sexual relations to be the healing factor in their lives. It is in mine, because of all the sexual/ritual abuse, gender identity, and sexual repression issues that have stalked me from birth. I have spent entire years of my life, cooperating with the (then hidden), parasitical predators of the interdimensional realm, trying to force my own conscious 3D personality into a psuedo-zombie, half-dead state of being, all in the name of celibacy and religion! I know this, because I have lived it, liberated myself from it, and then gone back and ate the vomit again--and it is all tied up with past karmic entanglements and my own difficult sexual/gender repression and lies.
Now, the second dream was from last night. At this point, I was no longer in a zombie state--which meant that I didn't wake up smelling the noxious fumes of Arcturians/Greys/reptiles on the Moon base, while they tortured me. Instead, last night, while not a complete zombie, I still was profoundly alienated from my own emotional/spiritual state of being, and so it was the rogue Faction 2/3 crowd who abducted me. I know this, because they are the zombie morons associated with the whole Matreya/Blue Beam bullshit, and in my dreams, I was hooked into the whole idolatry of Matreya. It is so despicable--catching vibes and "bliss" from a living being, while you "worship" a holographic image. I cannot even begin to fathom the kind of pathology that would inspire a human being to be so deluded.
Anyway, in this dream, my entire neck and upper torso and shoulders were cut with these small little nicks, which were then stitched back together. They were perfectly aligned, and it seemed as though I were cut in such a way, as to be bled dry. Now this dream didn't make much sense to me, until, upon awakening, I remembered a book I had been reading about the cultivation of opium poppies (no, no, it's not like that--I just have eclectic interests in reading material). Anyway, the book had illustrations of how to optimally "milk" an opium poppy, and guess what--the small little dashes, all aligned in multiple rows, was exactly how I was cut and stitched up last night. I was being "milked" for my brain frequency vibrations to provide a soporific narcotic for a bunch of lame brain, frequency addicted, BLISS JUNKIES!!!! Forget about the tv series, "V"--this reptilian narcotic junket is already happening, and I am the drugged up, unwilling host for the parasites!!
Another interesting feature about poppies is their phallic shape. Literally, these Matreya bliss junkies are milking and destroying my sexuality to feed their addiction addled brains. No wonder I woke up so drained, enervated and lifeless, that it took me all morning and hours of meditation to get my psyche, soul and body reintegrated. No wonder, I was reluctant to engage in sex--they had already bled my sexual libido dry with their damned high-tech rape. Fortunately for me, PF was astutely persistent.
You know what this "milking of the poppy" reminds me of--the lacerations of the penis that the ancient Mesoamericans would do, bleeding their sex organs out, in order to please the reptilian gods. THIS FACTION 2/2 MATREYA CULT IS JUST ANOTHER MASOCHISTIC REPTILIAN CULT!!! Like all addicts, though, I doubt the devotees have any idea of what their addiction is costing them in real life, real libido, real vigor. True spirituality creates and nurtures and extends life, both for oneself and others--it does not drain or use or milk unwilling sacrificial victims. AND GUESS WHAT YOU DUMBASSES--I WAS AN UNWILLING SACRIFICIAL VICTIM, AND I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING VICTIMIZED BY YOUR SICK, SORRY, ADDICT ASSES.
Does yelling make anything better? Probably not. What really healed was my relations with PF, who stands by me, no matter what kind of dangerous detour I take. However, I do learn my lessons, and I know now, what needs to happen, and soon--before I get lost in the zombie world, or brain bled out for the Matreya junkies...
In the meantime, let me shout out for the entire universe to hear--I WILL PAY FOR WHATEVER I EAT!!!