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  • #1037

    Dory, what’s the elsespace arrangement? asked young Becky, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. And who is Gayesh? I had the strangest dream. I think I was in the dream, but I was older than I am now, and everywhere I looked, there was another me. Then I had another dream, a fat lady in a grey raincoat was sitting on a bench and she’d dropped her blue glass mosaic on the pavement and it was all shattered in pieces. She was on her way to the antique market with it to sell it and she dropped it…..

    Interesting, Becky, replied Dory absentmindedly. Don’t forget to write them in your dream journal.

    #1035

    Dory had booked flights to Long Pong with stop-overs at Dubai and Sri Lanka. None of the airlines had heard of Tikfijikoo island, but Dory had a hunch that she would find a connecting link in the Chinese city, and would trust her intuition and impulses upon arrival there.

    Becky could hardly sleep for excitement. Finally, she slept, and dreamed of a strange facility in the mountains of Sri Lanka.

    #1028
    1da
    Participant

      12:54:07 AM 8-10-08 1da Geolocation Time.

      wait. an entire day disappears. no matter the stars and crickets go on just the same. no waiting. on this journey there are places, wind and the night. stepping through the darkness I move slowly into the moonless night.

      the driftwood shelter far away. thirst becoming noticeable. the clear water is enough for now.

      rain begins to slash down. large drops that soak to the skin in a few moments. a hard driving rain at the front of the storm. leaves thrash about as if to escape from the earth bound trees.

      Stumbling into the brush, i press close to the trunk of a tall redwood and sink down. the dust of the day remains here. even the crickets seek shelter. The shivering slows. i begin to relax, slipping into a dream.

      an island. far away. the last moments of sun warm on my skin. a rabbit the shade of pink clouds against the fading light. the cave far away from my dream as i drift deeper into sleep.

      #1809

      In reply to: Synchronicity

      Jib
      Participant

        ok there are enough syncs in such a short few time that I have to write some of them :)

        Since a few days, I have loads of them with Rome, it began with my desire to watch the series and shows it to Eric. Then something about a dream of Stacy ;;) and some pics of Rome coins Melissa sent me. And then at work, I heard someone tell another individual : “you mean you never went to Rome? Yes, I went…”

        I play with my sister, Francie and Eric to an energy ball exchange game, and there are some interesting hits each time. The bomb sent by Francie was particularly interesting in that it was a glass of wine, and after I looked at the energy ball early in the afternoon yesterday, we went to buy some stuffs for my new wood carving hobby :p and we found something interseting about a set for carving glasses. We bought it of course.

        At the book shop, where we found the prout syncs ;)), there was that book among the dvds… about Natural Vision Improvement by Janet Goodrich… and talking with Francie of the energy ball, I talked to her about this book and she told me about an optometrist in her city who does the same thing and that she had an appointment tomorrow!

        Well I think that’s all that I can remember for now :p

        #1024
        Jib
        Participant

          Dory was digging in her garden. Today was hot and sunny, but she was an archeologist, she could handle it!
          She had a dream last night about a little bird talking to her and telling her there was something precious buried in her garden… well it was something like that, she couldn’t really remember… maybe it was in another dream… did she watch a series last night? The boys were still sleeping soundly, so she’d ask later maybe.

          The ground of the garden was tough! no wonder she never dug it before, or even did any gardening.
          Crap! She was wondering where the treasure could be, her garden was big, and she had begun under a tree, but maybe it wasn’t there… it seemed to her the perfect location though… it was like an X showing the place. It had always seemed a bit crooked to her anyway. She could get rid of it shortly with a truck… She’ll ask the boys later for that… maybe near the portal stones?
          She left here digging under the crooked tree and started removing the stones of what she used to call the portal.

          #988
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            She stared at the blank screen and sighed. Her brain did not seem to be working.

            She knew her dream of the photos of the children was somehow important because the cloud had confirmed it:

            sync believe probability finally photos children meaning sat itself eye dream armelle sent images night

            and if the Owl had sent them then ….

            WHAT ????

            #960

            New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

            The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

            Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

            Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
            People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

            Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

            Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

            :fleuron:

            Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
            He remembered.
            They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
            A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
            The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
            So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
            That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

            Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

            #953
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Primary Becky woke up as the sun was sinking behind the coconut trees. The grounds of the Serendib Facility were striped with the long golden shadows of evening as Becky sat up in the wicker steamer chair, rubbing her eyes and mumbling the last few remembered words of a dream….. Luce is calling…which she promptly forgot.

              Never one to keep a good thing to herself, Becky had a sudden impulse to call Tina in New Venice and tell her about Serendib. She loved the name Serendib: ‘serendipity.’ Becky had fallen in love with the magical island, and wanted to share it.

              She had a feeling that Tina would like it here.

              #936

              California, 1849

              Almost five months… Five whole months they’d been traveling all around the place at a very slow pace.
              Twilight was enjoying every instant of being in the middle of that strange moving cohort.

              She had been inspired to write daily. Not much at the beginning, but it was all “in the dedication and intent that marvel would shine through”, as Felix, the Otter man had been saying to her.

              In truth, she wasn’t really expecting marvels, but marvels had come to her more than once.
              At times, she even felt compelled to write about it to Jo and Elroy, her dear brothers. Of course, she’d been writing with a clockwork regularity, posting sometimes more than a few letters at each of their settling near a new town, all the way from Texas, to Colorado, Utah, Nevada and finally California. She wasn’t even sure the actual letters were reaching them, but she more than once felt like her thoughts had reached them throughout the distance, and her dreams would confirm her into these intuitions.
              That trip was hard, harder than she would have guessed, with all the heat, dust and chaotic dirt trails, but the company and fellowship was always uplifting, and a joy of each instant.
              Even the war between America and Mexico that made travel even more perilous was over after two years, and things all around seemed to settle down more peacefully as if to reflect that truce.

              And now, looking at all of what she had gathered, she was amazed at these marvels she had collected, those nuggets of their lives, each moment seemingly so fleeting and trite, and yet, as they were put together, all marvelously interwoven.
              Though she mostly loved passionate real-life stories, she had to admit she had a soft spot (or let it be said, an un-common spot) for one of her most delirious story.
              She had been inspired to write something about giant ants after she’d been amazed at seeing huge ant hills during their trip in the deserts. There was this mad quack who was trying to extract some sort of honey from giant ants to make a powerful drug, and and she had added lots of her friends from the show inside this story. Herself was a delightful jet-black haired beauty with an impossible name and diverse and frustrated love interests, spying on the mad quack… She even started to dream about that story at times…

              She loved that gentle slipping into abundant nutness…

              Now that they were arrived in San Francisco, she was considering settling there for a while, sharing her time between writing and dancing. Time would tell.

              #929

              ~ It’s dark here ~

              Focus on our voices, continue to follow the flow…
              Focus…
              I think I can hear something…
              Yes…
              It’s like rain…

              Yes, just like the rain a dreamy voice answered the little girl

              #923

              Mr Arak had just got another complaint.
              Someone was again stealing people’s soondwiches during the morning break. Except that this time, the perpetratoor had placed some poost-it saying “Thanks for the snoock! Floove, Finnley
              How cheeky! he thought, smiling to himself… As funny as he thought it was, especially when the teafed one was that annoying woonabe-star of Elizabeth, he might have to take appropriate measures. Especially when the teafed one was that Elizabeth T.

              Now, tell me, Yurick asked Finn anxiously (while she apparently only got the breathing icons :yahoo_sigh: and no longer the messages accompanying it), “any idea what’s the message in that bizarre dream?”

              #921

              It had been a week now. Georges had fully taken his role as Shu-Lom, the eleventh Gate in the Council of the Guardians. His mergence with the actual focus of Blöhmul was fading out ; the transition had been smooth, unnoticed by most of the Guardians, even his closest friends. Georges was careful not to display any unusual change in Shu-Lom’s attitude, though some of them were showing signs of suspicion, especially… his own focus, Sinadron who was the most susceptible to be aware of the difference. Georges had been avoiding him since his arrival, but he would eventually have to face him for one of the rituals soon to begin.
              Of the eleventh other Guardians, only 2 were considering him as a friend, Doh’Maar and Vogel. Most of the others were ignoring him during the sessions and Sinadron were despising him. Well, technically he was despising Shu-Lom and the change would not make things go easier between the 2 of them as the energy of their 2 focuses were sort of repulsing each other.
              Following Shu-Lom’s habits, he was heading to the public baths, but contrary to him, he was going during daylight. He needed some answers. He had been feeling strong tensions between the Gates, and there were also underlying feeling of discontentment and anger among the other Guardians. For the first time in their history, unknown groups of their kind were attacking the other races and provoking them and generating feelings of fear, even amongst the Guardians.
              The man he was following would give him some of the answers. He would have to befriend him first though. Noraam had a smooth energy, and he would be easy to approach, especially in the dampness of the baths.

              Noraam was wearing an grey cape, attached on his shoulders with carved fibulae. His robe was short, above his knees, and rather dark. He was quite young by the standards of the Guardians and still fiery. Shu-Lom was young too, about the same age as Noraam, but he was quite pessimistic and self-effacing, and especially he wanted to leave, that he did, and Georges took his place.
              Georges suddenly felt a familiar energy, one that he would recognize anywhere, anytime. Salome… rather another focus of her essence. Hahaha, that was a surprise, and he almost lost track of what he was doing. Noraam was already taking the stairs up to the baths. Something about the energy of that focus was attractive, he still didn’t know who it was or what he/she(?) was doing here. Maybe just a projection. He didn’t have time to investigate. Heading to the stairs where Noraam was already being dematerialized and rematerialized to the first level, he heard a child’s voice.

              Can you help me?.. I know you can.

              What again, another distraction… he would be late to the baths and maybe loose the occasion to speak with the other Gate.

              Looking down at the origin of the voice, he was surprised to see a little girl, red hair and amber eyes. As he could see, she was blind, but as he could feel, she was quite capable of seeing things.

              Do I know you, little one? He had not been aware of this child in Shu-Lom’s memories, and he was wondering if he had missed something during his encounters with the original.

              You dreamt of me the other night, but you weren’t here yet.

              Her last words triggered a memory, of him carrying a naked little girl in his arms, protecting her in a way, and he was following a man in his dream, trying to keep track… in his dream, he was rushing and almost lost the child, following also Salome who had already taken the stairs… yes he was here in his dreams, the place and the stairs were the same… as was the child.

              What is your name little one? In my dream you were followed by an owl
              You can call me Ar’Meel.

              :fleuron:

              Sam thought he could write it somewhat differently. With his understanding of Georges’ abilities, he could well have split in two and followed Salome and stayed with the girl simultaneously and maybe even Noraam.
              A smile.
              He was feeling wobbly and wavy. A ripple effect?
              It seemed that there had been a strange recognition between his character and himself. It was like Georges was aware of Sam wanting to change what had happened… or was it a suggestion of Georges?

              #912

              Oh, shite, an aghast Yurick told Finn in the messaging window.
              What? asked Finn who was giggling (with great dignity) at the new comment he’d just made
              There will be retaliations says the cloud:

              “quickly storm stupid Dory closer front
              try suddenly syncs side free creating
              taken empty dreams let thread open
              against beautiful picked”…

              #911
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Al woke up with a start.

                In his dream, Becky’s children were born prescient, with a tint of green in the eyes, due to the amount of psychotropic laced reindeer she had ingested a few days before the conception…

                Oh my Flove, what have we done

                #2025

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  elikozoe began magpies :yahoo_shame_on_you:
                  seems laughing key :yahoo_laughing:
                  finding love happy gabriele :yahoo_worried:
                  bloody franiel creating dreams magic :creating_magic:

                  #893

                  The day had been long. Actually, from an outside perspective he had been apparently sleeping almost all of it, so it was not appearing as if it could be a really exhausting day at all.
                  But Al had been extending his body researches in the subjective. He’d started to play again with his various dream bodies he had known the existence of for quite a while now, though he hadn’t yet found the time to experiment with them fully enough. An idea he owed to Sam, who he had been pleased to hear about his unusual experiences in the Australian bush, or more accurately, in the Dreamtime.

                  Playing with these various “bodies”, or qualities of attention and perception, he was aware that his thoughts on the recent events occurring in their story was still unfolding in the backstage of his attention. A rehearsal perhaps…
                  Nevertheless, he was delaying the actual representation, for he felt he was not yet ready for it.
                  He could feel lots of information waiting for him to download them and process them. But he wanted to do it with clarity.

                  Last try had not been very convincing… He had dreamt of a midget Tina, in a flowing mauve and lemon chiffon dress. Of course, in the dream he had taken great care of not hurting her feelings, all the more since she seemed so fond of the dress. He couldn’t really tell her that the dress was giving her an enormous butt and that she was rolling her hips comically when she was walking… Impossible…
                  While dream-Al was searching for words to truthfully convey his appreciation of whatever little thing that could be left to appreciate on that dress, dream-Sam had been quick to tell dream-Tina she looked like fairy Nuf. What had he said! She soon started to weep noisily. Fairy Nuf, as anyone knew, is a purple-clad plump grumpy fairy, with a pointy hat and she couldn’t possibly look that bad.
                  Speak about clarity…

                  Al tried again to concentrate. Taking deep breathes.

                  He could feel more and more clearly the presence of the woman. Her aura was beckoning, and she seemed to want to share information with him —pieces of information he would be free to tell others or not, it didn’t matter.
                  What mattered was that there was this deep desire for this information which was coming from him; and equally as deep as his, her own desire to share was palpable.

                  Salome ” he whispered “ I am ready to see
                  He soon started to fall into another lucid dream…

                  #1801

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    few spider synchs – the other night I had a vivid dream of a spider, a large one with a funny symbol on it’s back. I found it in my ice-cream and was trying to catch it in a small plastic jar. Then I decided I must search the icecream to see if there were any more spiders. The icecream parted in the middle and changed texture, resembling the texture of a spider’s nest. When I woke up I read Eric’s new comment

                    I had been planning to add a spider comment to the tifikijoo island thread and was had a particular comment in mind. The next time I looked at the story site, the comment I had been thinking of came up as the random quote

                    Franiel thread , where I talked about the messenger birds Fincheons and introduced a motorbike – I wrote this directly before going to my hairdresser. As he was talking he told me he had always wanted a motorbike. He had to leave me for a few minutes to move the motorbike of another client which was blocking the access way. He also told me he’d had an unusual bird incident, a fantail had on two separate occasions circled his head, freaking him out rather. The maori believe this bird is a messenger bird, some believe it is an omen of death, others that it is an omen of good-luck … well whatever it is regarded as a messenger. Another synch with the comment; the fincheons are grey birds, the fantail found commonly in NZ is the grey fantail

                    A couple of synch numberplates today: EAGL 1 and EGY221

                    #889

                    Wow that had been bizarre! Veranassessee stood at the bathroom basin and splashed icy cold, reviving water on her face. She knew she’d had sex with Agent Gabriele … however the experience had a slightly surreal quality, not unlike a dream, details slipping elusively away from her as she tried to grasp hold of them. She giggled nervously as she dried her face with a towel. Did she really want to remember? She had just passed Agent Gabriele in the corridor and he had winked at her, saying he couldn’t wait to try the ‘reverse cleaning maid ‘ again. A sudden image came to mind and she saw her skin darken in the mirror as a hot wave of embarrassment flooded her. Good Grief! She thought guiltily of Mahiliki. She hoped the other island had not been too badly affected by cyclone Ycart, so far it seemed Tifikijoo had come off quite lightly.

                    Veranassessee had already checked on the guests, Jose Maria and Paquita were still in their room, Mavis was huddled under her bedding and informed her in a muffled voice that Sha and Glor had gone looking for her.

                    :fleuron:

                    Well she’s not in her bloody room so where is she eh? Gloria and Sha were on the warpath, determined to get some answers from Veranassessee.

                    ‘Ere, Sha! Bloody hell! Glor shook her head in disbelief.

                    What’s up Glor?

                    Bloody magpies … there are bloody magpies in ‘ere!

                    What! Nasty little buggers those magpies. Poke yer bloody eyes out if yer aint careful.

                    ‘Ere what they up to eh? Bloody hopping all over that whats-a-ma-callit-doo-dacky machine.

                    They’ll be going for the shiny bits I reckon. They do that those magpies. ‘Ere we’d better stop them, might never get our bloody beauty treatments if they bugger that machine up.

                    #864
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Sam was having a weird dream in which he was having a romantic relationship with Becky after having influenced Sean in a slippery sleepy slope.
                      As the vision was developing itself, it appeared that they obviously had loads of children, like 7
                      :yahoo_whew:
                      Some of them were energies he was already familiar with, some he had glimpsed during Becky’s broadcast the other day.
                      Some others were newly added to this dimension and Becky and him were gladly offering them an entry point, so to speak… and there was the potential for a few more.
                      Sam smiled, because in wanting so bad not having these children, Becky were adding more fuel to this probability :) no matter who the father was. She may have been struggling with it, but it was one of the main point of her focus.

                      #862

                      “Actually, that’s it! Quintin had feared the implications, as lots of people did.
                      It would mean everything would be allowed. Everything would be true, even the most blatant contradictions would be harmoniously living side by side.”

                      Becky smiled at the marvelously appropriate Reality Play entry that she’d found whilst randomly reading back through their script notes.

                      She’d had a hard time explaining to Sean about the probability glitch in which the note had appeared in the ‘wrong’ reality. He understood the concept of probable realities eventually, but he was hurt and confused as to why Becky had even thought to make up that probability in the first place. Becky hadn’t told him the full story about the dream, feeling that it may in some way be a self fulfilling prophecy if Sean knew that (in one probability, at any rate) he ended up an alcoholic, not to mention all those children! The very thought of all those children was enough to make Becky break out in a sweat, and she wasn’t inclined to add energy to that probable future.

                      Becky explained that she had written the note to Sean (in the Reality Play) to tell him she was leaving him merely as a method of introducing some new characters, but Sean was deeply wounded.

                      She did her best to placate her new husband and take his mind off it, even going so far as to don the shrunken tarty nun outfit. But after the romantic interlude, when Becky had fallen asleep, Sean was unable to stop thinking about it, and he wandered dejectedly into the kitchen, and poured himself a large whiskey.

                      In an ironic twist of fate, a glimpse into a probable future had affected the present, and Sean’s descent into confused drunkenness began in earnest.

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