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  • #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.

        #1798

        In reply to: Synchronicity

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Some interesting syncs:

          Discussing the comment on Franiel and Vincentius with Francie, some things of interest:

          F: hahaha i laughed at the egg bit :egg_wink:
          E: bit silly I reckon :)) but somehow it synch’ed with two movies we’ve been watching yesterday
          F: yes, good to have a bit of silly in our otherwise serious story :|
          E: In one, there is that :ghost: ghost girl who stalks her husband new love affair, and ends up speaking through a parrot
          And the other, there is this shaman old woman who remote-views her people went on a quest, and ends up dying in stead of a girl, so that the young one lives…

          F: oh that is like your plants in the courtyard dream too —just had a recollection of you saying one gave up its pot for the other one
          E: Oh yes, true… Perhaps it’s just like a layering, like you do for strawberries, you use parts of the roots to do new plants…
          “Layering is more complicated than taking cuttings, but has the advantage that the propagated portion can continue to receive water and nutrients from the parent plant while it is forming roots.”

          E: “In air layering (or marcotting), the target region is wounded and then surrounded in a moisture-retaining wrapper such as sphagnum moss ;))

          Peat moss is also a critical element for growing mushrooms” that’ll make Tracy happy :))
          In New Zealand, care is taken during the harvesting of sphagnum moss=))

          F: “it can also be used as a substrate for tarantulas as it is easy to burrow into:spider:

          E: “Such Sphagnum bogs can also preserve human hair and clothing, one of the most noteworthy examples being Egtved Girl , Denmark”. Egg and B.C. sync :))

          F: cool name, Egtved. Oh thats interesting about the Egtved girl: due to be public this month
          E: oh, well spotted!
          F: shall we all pop over and check it out
          E: Ahahaha sure :world:

          #846
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Crisp fluttered to the floor as Becky drifted off to sleep. She was having an odd dream, in which she was hugging Sam. I’m so glad you don’t drink Sam, she said, emotionally, in the dream.

            Well, I do have an occasional pint down at the Duck and Firken, you know, he replied.

            You know what I mean, Sam. All those years with Sean, hoping it would all work out…her dream voice trailed off sadly….

            Hey Becky, it wasn’t a waste! Look at all the lovely children you had!

            Becky felt her dream self smile ruefully. Well, it hasn’t exactly been a picnic either, you know….

            She woke up sweating and confused. Good grief, all WHAT children! What a dreadful nightmare!

            She was wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead when Sean popped his head round the door.

            I’m popping out for a beer, Becky, won’t be long.

            Holy Moly, Becky whispered under her breath.

            #844

            Hey, I’ve found a brownies carton wrap in the trash Yann!
            Mmm, and you really think it’ll be enough? a doubtful Yann answered to Yurick
            Oh, don’t worry, there’s also a couscous one, and an Ureu biscuit one, answered Yurick with a wide grin
            Well, if you say so then, smiled Yann, contemplatively rolling his eyes à la Finn.

            A few hours later, their patch-ckage solidly wrapped up, they had it sent to their friends.
            When, in the post-office, the big black lady with piercing eyes (drôlely resembling Rita, a friend of Dory Yann had seen in a dream who went wedding dress shopping recently) asked them if there was anything of value in the package, they almost burst out laughing.
            Yann had the mind to answer, only some stuff… as if of no consequence.

            #2024

            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Within window, lady angels wonder
              Pink show kept egg focused
              Funny smile Tracy moose
              Food focus
              Dreams given starting hope
              Word

              #841

              Jarvis was dozing in a dark corner of the kitchen. He was dreaming of bees, he had been assigned to the bee keeping a few weeks ago, just after the “incident”. He was one man the Dr could trust. In a previous life, he was keeping bees as a family business. But an accident with the bees led to his dismissal by his uncle. A regrettable accident, too much smoke, too much dead bees. Jarvis had been thinking of a sabotage, surely he had been framed but as he was thinking of quiting this poor paid job, it was also a perfect occasion.

              He had been engaged as a security agent… sort of. He had to pretend to be a gardener and not awake suspicion among the others. The funny thing is that he had soon been contacted by another organization, and had been offered quite a good price. All he had to do was observe and dream. Unfortunately, the man, Claude, who had approached him was disguised as a patient… and he had disappeared after the “incident”. Since then Jarvis had been having strange dreams of mummies, magpies, there was even one with 3 eyes 2 nights ago :yahoo_waiting:

              The light was turned on abruptly. Someone was arriving, still hidden by the tables and shelves.
              With the sound of the heels on the tiled floor, that was a woman… or the Doctor.
              A little twinge told him not to let him be noticed yet. He moved his head silently in a position from which he could see who it was.
              Oh! that big athletic woman, Vasse.
              Claude had told him about her. Jarvis had to be very cautious, because she was of another organization… another :cat_confused: he was calling her agent V. Well Jarvis wasn’t curious enough to ask any further detail, there were already too much to remember.

              She was doing something with a little jar of a brown substance, and brought a spoon full at her mouth. Her sudden coughing and spitting almost made him fall off his chair. But hopefully with all the noise she hadn’t noticed. Mumbling, she was heading toward the fridge. Was she possibly aware of…

              Yes! she was taking the plate with the honeycomb… he’d have to move quickly.
              As she was considering the modified honeycomb, he realized that she was about to eat it. So she didn’t know. :-? He had to warn her.

              — I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V…

              #838
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                West Cork, Ireland, Summer of 2051

                As she walked along the rocky trail bordering the coast where occasionally whales could be seen at a distance, she was humming deep sounds and harmonies in the damp air filled with the echoes of the cool wind.

                She was aware of distant focuses of herself, living around that place. Past focuses, in that land of the druidesses and druids, and another one, closer to her, in some probable future. Like this other focus, she loved the whales too, and she was able to communicate with her. Catherine Wrick would have loved to be able to live in such a crystalline place she could envision with her eyes closed.

                Her woolen black coat would let the wind insinuate itself through the layers of clothes, and she was starting to feel a little cold now. Temperatures were colder than they used to be in the past, and even now in summer, they would rarely go higher than 15°C. It was time to get back home. She whistled Merlu, her golden labrador, back, and still nestled into her dream-like attention, slowly walked towards her house.

                :fleuron:

                In the comfort of her dome house, she started to leaf through the messages and reminders that she had in a pile on the bed table. Nothing much of interest, except that in a few months time, it would be the first birthday of the twins

                Her step-mother Dorean had sent her two books, when she had learned of the birth of the twins. They were to return to them, when they would be seven, she’d say.
                Why seven?, she’d asked… Dorean had answered that seven was the perfect age for them to get them back —their intuitive abilities would still had much potential, and they would be mature enough to understand and use the books. It was no use for herself to keep the books any longer.

                As she was going to sit in her antique rocking chair for a smoke, Catherine noticed a faint cracking sound. Perhaps Merlu was playing with those hard-boiled eggs she’d been painting recently, without much success, to try to reproduce the perfect glowing green colour of her grandfa… Another crack. She stopped and listened again.
                It couldn’t be Merlu: the dog was now barking.

                She started to wonder Could it be?… After all those years of keeping them…

                The sound was definitely coming from the reading room where the big eggs were put on display…

                #834

                Five months.
                If he recalled well, it was barely five months (five months and five days perhaps) he’d had that dreamYurick was thinking distractedly, while munching on his toast of vegemoth, crumbs falling in his cup of lotus flavoured tuo-cha.
                Only five months! It had felt like ages had passed, lifetimes even…
                Energy realisations went really fast these days, once the prime idea was here. And for sure it had been floating around for quite some time, but truly it had been a quick birthing, and rather painless too.

                He was suddenly brought to his sense —and a certain idea of reality— when he saw Dory’s chat window flicker. He almost spluttered his tea on the screen as he saw the egg pictures she had just posted on her new social playground. A dark website of kinky appearance, where her new friends would probably guess eggs where her fetish and fifty-seven an exotic tantric position they’d be blissfully whipped with a wisp of fresh nettles to get taught.
                Well energy could take many shapes and forms, and for sure, five months ago, he wouldn’t have guessed one of these forms would be vegemoth and oval-shaped sex-toys.

                Speaking of vegemoth, he smiled as he saw the level of the dark brown salty paste noticeably diminishing in the small jar. Since he and Yann had been initiated by Dory to that strange Australian shamanic drug, and the unknown pleasures and twisted dream and trance induction it provides, they had been surprised to find it legally displayed for sell on their usual store at the exotic-mysterious-and-potentially-lethal-Eastern-products shelf. Along with an even stronger version of it, they’d been told… MARMOTH that Yann had consented they would get after the vegemoth would be eaten.

                Ahahaha… At that rate, that would happen before they know it!

                #1796

                In reply to: Synchronicity

                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Finn dreamt of the number 5, although she was unable to remember the context. Upon awakening the thought popped into her head that it was the 5th day of the 5th month today.

                  #1915
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Follow Your Dream from Tarifa (which was where we saw the two F’s with the red balloons and the St Franci….)

                    #1775

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Synching with T’s post about Rosie, my massage angel (well her name is Sarah really) started telling me about her puppy called Rosie yesterday, (11th April) Just noticed this was comment 257.
                      :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_big_hug:

                      Cafe with friends a short while ago – was given table number 12 again!

                      :yahoo_big_hug:

                      dreamt about a sort of portal thing last night – i would say it was a muddled mixture of a church and a cave and even a tree, it was hard to know what it was, but the person I was with was dressed in church robes, and we went up high into it till we nearly got to the top. This sort of syncs a bit with Eric’s comment I thought.

                      55 – guests invoice 255, and their black porsche convertible :yahoo_rolling_eyes: number plate 355.

                      only yellow synch i can think of, as I was walking across the park with my friends, the baby started pointing and making noises at a bright yellow plastic bag lying in the grass … apparently (and here I am going off what her mother said as I have no idea) she wanted us to pick it up and put it in the bin. ahahahahahha yeah bugger the freakin yellow !

                      The other day i spent some time googling for a particular model of coffee maker (which appears to be out of stock) … some guests had broken it and wanted to replace it. It was Breville ECM2. Then the next day as I was randomly reading things I linked onto an EFT site. It was talking about Energy and mass (and stuff) and Einstein and E=MC2 (don’t know how to do a little 2). Later I mentioned it to Eric and he found an Einstein synch. Just now I went over to a news site to look for a goat story for T, and the first thing on the page was an advertsing banner for Mariah Carey’s new album, E=MC² . Absolutely no idea of any significance to this synch however it felt sort of illuminated so I am sharing it. Now I will go and look for the goat story again.

                      Goat Story on the news last night

                      #824

                      Midora was perplexed. These books were like an open-ended uncharted territory. That territory was so vast and fractal-like in nature that each attempt at following a single thread seemed daunting. There were always details growing like a reckless plant from the entry points where she started her investigations. Badul seemed lost in this jungled maze.
                      Last time she’d tried to connect, she ended up with another focus of his, a child, vaguely related to the crystal skulls hunt.

                      All it requires is a proper compass to navigate the thought suddenly appeared in her mind as clear as daylight, carrying with it a trail of concepts and clusters of associated ideas.
                      One in particular…
                      She’d had that book of designs she’d always loved to read when she was a child. It was full of colorful symbols which were called by the authors “tiles”. The authors associated some properties to them, and she remembered one which was about a compass…
                      So she had found a compass… Now, she would have to learn how to use it. The introduction of the book said:

                      The tiles presented in this book all have different functions; they can be primarily understood as focal points which enhance specific uses of energy. […] As far as we know, they can be discovered in many situations, either objective events (e.g. something that catches your gaze in the street) or in the subjective (dreams, visions, inspirations etc.). In both cases, the recognition is instantaneous, as each tile carries a distinctive energetic signature which is the essence of its “function”, so to speak.
                      As such, it can be used theoretically in both situations (subjective and objective), though, as far as we have explored, subjective interaction with them seem to be the easiest and most quickly rewarding way of accessing them.

                      Subjective interaction, yes that was child’s play, she would have said, though she could vaguely understand why people before the Shift completed had more trouble accessing it. Objective wasn’t so difficult, once you get to the idea that it’s all one, and you can easily switch from each of the attentions used to focus on them.

                      The only thing that doesn’t seem to change, she thought, is the numbering. Even when the events shuffle through the pages and reorder themselves, or even when the very energy of the event subtly changes, their numbers were the same. She could start with that.

                      She cleared her mind, envisioning the compass, then took a deep breath and asked herself a question, Where do I find Badul?
                      Slowly, the compass started to shift and turn, while numbers started to roll in front of her mind’s eye, and like a lottery, at each draw a number appeared, slowly revealing a number: 1-2-3-8

                      She eagerly leafed through the books to find the reference. Well… that was more perplexing than ever, that seemed like a totally unrelated story.
                      But now, she was not so sure about that, as she read the entry and wondered about the fact that it seemed once again different from the first time she’d read it.

                      And now, she marveled as a new entry started to write itself under that one. It was the first time she actually saw an entry write itself. Those she had spotted that were not here before, she just assumed they had appeared instantaneously. But not this one… and it started to link Franiel’s and Badul’s explorations…

                      #2020

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Suddenly THE room WAS FULL OF beetles, WHICH meant THREE times A week lying inside THE story, moving AROUND LIKE A fish. Random living DRIVING AN OLD car ALL OVER THE earth HAVING lots OF dreams OF blue, rather SIMILAR TO comments soon officeIALLY PUBLISHED….. telling hugE NONsense factS WHILST RUBBING white talking hands ALL OVER THE RABBITS, running AND sighed AS MY foot connected WITH A ROCK already taking years TO FORM INTO matter …..

                        #2018

                        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Close, THE images WERE comeING CLOSER, AND THE journal felt CLOSER: picture StOry OF wondered ABOUT AND WONDROUS dimensionS; HEADS full OF IDEAS, getting Ahead OF THE fruit AND NUTCASE; DREAMS remembered ……

                          #1766

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Tracy’s Dad sent her this link on dangerous roads which synchs with my dream last night of my trip to see the purple stone. As she pointed :yahoo_loser: out, one of the NZ roads, which is very similar to the dream picture, is contributed by “beesknees”

                            #2014

                            In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              mean Sean
                              Sky felt fry
                              Lady dance
                              Yurick meant
                              Start Earth remembering
                              Thinking door
                              Dream timeline
                              … began
                              pink help indeed body

                              #1761

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              Jib
                              Participant

                                Great syncs agent Flove L-)
                                And just for the record also, as we talked yesterday about pooh and its symbolic importance, my sister called me today at noon and told me about a dream of hers in which she was explaining the different significations of the colors of the poohs they were using to cover the walls of their houses… :))

                                And I had a dream in which I saw my father who looked like a :chomping: (that’s for the rat sync ;)) )

                              Viewing 20 results - 381 through 400 (of 565 total)