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  • #2006

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    Jib
    Participant

      Oh I just realized I did the 53rd comment :D
      :bounce: :bounce: :bounce: :bounce: :bounce:
      :bounce: :bounce: :bounce:

      #2005

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      Jib
      Participant

        And another cloud that is quite meaningful to me

        YOU understand THROUGH russian eyeS WHATEVER YOU ARE looking.
        THE snoot HAS already FOUND A nurse INTO sanso AND THE godS read THIS FINNTASTIC STORY THAT IS making LOTS OF cleaning INTO YOUR REALITY.
        GONE away FOR A FEW MOMENTS, jib NOW move AGAIN TO told THE STORY OF THE CRYSTAL skullS THAT HAD BEEN sent TO THIS REALM BY THE ASARIS.
        THEY HAD BEEN added AS THE fruitS OF KNOWLEDGE.

        #724

        Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

        If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

        Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

        Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

        #2121

        In reply to: Snooteries

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          To all our readers:

          El Sanso will be standing in for our dear Snoot, while he takes a much needed reality break.

          If you have any questions, dear readers, El Sanso will be happy to respond.

          :yahoo_chatterbox: :yahoo_thinking:

          #722
          Jib
          Participant

            Yann was so tired that he couldn’t do anything but sleep.
            It was hard for him to go to work and see people that he wasn’t sure were real.
            It was hard for him too with Yurick because he couldn’t explain what was happening to him, though he was sure enough that it wasn’t connected to his friend.
            He was evaluating his life and how he was creating it.
            He was evaluating his relations.

            He was just afraid to become sort of an autist.

            #2118

            In reply to: Snooteries

            Jib
            Participant

              [The Snoot is currently away from this reality.]
              [Please, leave an energy deposit after the non physical blip…]
              :notepad:

              #719
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Becky put the butter back in the fridge and noticed a large casserole dish covered with a cloth. She peered into the dish, wondering what it was.

                Oof! said Becky, wrinking her nose in distaste. It was leftovers of that ghastly reindeer stew that Elvira and Boris had contributed to the wedding feast, made with Al’s gruesome green bacon.

                It’s a miracle we didn’t all die of food poisoning, thought Becky. That batty old crone Elvira was too old to be trusted in a kitchen, anyway. 121 years old, and showing no signs of kicking the bucket yet. Bring back euthanasia, she thought wickedly.

                Oh I don’t mean it really, she said to herself (out loud, in case Tina was remotely viewing her again). I love Elvira really.

                #717
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Becky, Becky, wake up… Lordy, she’s really in denial, you’re right sweet pea…
                  We’ve got to rush now, all the people are already arrived now, and we’ve got to go to the civil ceremony now
                  Yes, yes, we’ve got plenty of rice for you Becky…
                  What? Yes, I suppose she ate those mushrooms that were in the blue mud package. They were only supposed to be rehydrated and applied on the face, not eaten… Now she’ll be delirious for quite some hours…
                  Peregrine, Guinevere, kids, yes, take that dress, and take good care of the bride herself, she’s not much on her two feet today…

                  Al was doing his best to apply all the self-centering techniques he knew and not let things get awry now… Glad he had Tina to help, her practical senses sharp as ever.

                  #712
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    oh that’s a fantastic idea Becky! encouraged Tina, when Becky suggested tentatively that perhaps she could try advanced visualisation techniques in order to turn this disastrous start to her wedding day around.

                    Yes, imagine it as you would like it to be, no matter how unrealistic it may seem. Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing your skin glowing like a glowing peach. After all, you have nothing to lose Becky-pooh.

                    #2113

                    In reply to: Snooteries

                    The SnootThe Snoot
                    Participant

                      Dear Anne Horny Smooch

                      The Snoot is FLOVE as thou all :heart:
                      The Snoot dreamt of its Back that was on its Frontside… It was moving freely and though in the usualness of the waking reality consciousness is commanded so to speak to rearrange itself into things… that are no more than the expression of different aspects of thyself.
                      Since the attention is not so absolutely focused in the Snoot area of consciousness the energy of FLOVE is flowing freely and it is not constricted.
                      Thus thou canst absorb the red fruit knowledge and know. Know that you are back and front at the same time and appreciate thyself inside out or outside in as is thy creature cat when she lick herself.

                      With Mych FLOVE and sn :bounce: :bounce: tches

                      The Cutie Snootie

                      #709
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Zhana was so happy that she started to sing .

                        That’s beautiful! exclaimed Sanso, Sing another one!

                        So Zhana sang some more.

                        Whoa! said Sanso. Weirdo singing!

                        Oh! Zhana looked crestfallen. Don’t you like it?

                        Hahaha, Oh yes, I love it! Please, sing some more.

                        Well…….oh, alright. And Zhana sang for Sanso…..and sang some more……

                        Where did you learn to sing like that? asked Sanso politely.

                        Oh, haha, Zhana laughed and blushed. Granny used to sing like that. Zhana sighed wistfully, remembering her grandmother. If only they hadn’t had to kill her when she got too old to be useful.

                        Sanso closed his eyes, feeling a song coming to his own lips from somewhere deep inside him.

                        Sanso suddenly felt sleepy after all the strange singing, and lay down on the mushroom speckled forrest floor and drifted into a strange dream of mice and birds and a topsy turvy world.

                        Zhana wasn’t really tired, after all, she had only just woken from her sleep when she met Sanso, but she lay down beside him and after awhile she drifted off. She had some strange dreams too.

                        #1688

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        Jib
                        Participant

                          I was speaking about syncs with agent Flove…

                          eschraiel: did you see the sync with the dog?
                          franci_free: am just reading your synch
                          eschraiel: haha :D
                          franci_free: i was thinking i had noticed dogs a bit yesterday
                          eschraiel: wow interesting
                          franci_free: firstly a little poodle outside the supermarket, we sat next to it for a while and petted it
                          franci_free: i would not usually do that
                          eschraiel: hehehe what’s apoodle?
                          franci_free: and someone showed me a photo of a HUGE dog they had taken
                          franci_free: hang on
                          franci_free: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/littlebritain/images/gallery/poodle.jpg
                          eschraiel: hahaha I got that :p http://www.cloggie.org/pictures/proggold/web_Alpaca%20Poodle.JPG
                          eschraiel: it’s like a lama :p
                          franci_free: oh wow
                          eschraiel: yours is cuter ;))
                          franci_free: well that is a llama synch too then
                          eschraiel: really?
                          franci_free: because yesterday i thought “my goodness what a lot of llamas i am hearing about” and ther is one across the road too
                          franci_free: with the circus
                          eschraiel: http://www.cloggie.org/proggold/2007/12/07/note-to-googlers-its-not-a-bloody-poodle/
                          eschraiel: again a hoax apparently :p
                          franci_free: ahahahaha
                          eschraiel: I’m having a lot of hoax :-?
                          eschraiel: is that a clue?
                          eschraiel: it’s fun hoax though

                          And so we decided to create a detective agency specialized in hoacsynchs… agent Flove and me as the Snoot

                          Well Eric just told me that hoax is an ox so we can find a bluebull clue :-?
                          We are specialized in blueOx!!!

                          #1687

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          Jib
                          Participant

                            HAhaha, thanks to Eric, we found the real Mr Flynn

                            And in the article it says that

                            An international team of 21 geneticists working with the National Human Genome Research Institute, published its findings last Friday in the journal Science after having studied DNA samples of over 3,000 dogs and 143 breeds.

                            #1686

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            Jib
                            Participant

                              Hahaha so many comments on the morning when I wake up!!!
                              I had a few synchs this morning, the first was with a dream in which I was seeing the number 533 and I was laughing as it was a combination of 53 (me) and 33 (Elias)… and I realized people couldn’t understand it :)

                              Well this morning, when I opened my mails, I found 2 mails, one was posted at 5:33 !!!
                              And the second one was posted at 9:21… I thought of Francie and as I called her Finn yesterday when I YM’ed her, I was surprised by her last comment in which Finn was speaking…
                              And in the mail (the 9:21 one), the subject was : “The biggest dog”… and when I opened the attachment it was a powerpoint document speaking about the dog of Mr FLYNN, that was an English mastiff and was called Hercules, just grew bigger and bigger from his birth on…
                              Apparently this is a hoax , but I thought the synch was really fynn ;))

                              #706
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Becky wondered anxiously where this new twist in the reality play was going. :yahoo_idk: Frozen meat! I don’t like the sound of this at all…. :yahoo_nailbiting:

                                #703

                                So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

                                Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

                                She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
                                In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
                                She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

                                She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
                                Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
                                All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

                                The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
                                She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

                                You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

                                Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

                                :fleuron:

                                — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

                                As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

                                — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

                                Continue…

                                — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

                                These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

                                Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

                                — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

                                They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul…

                                And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

                                #702

                                There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                                It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                                A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                                Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                                Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                                A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                                Oh! Who’s there?

                                A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                                Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                                Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                                Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                                Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                                Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                                I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                                What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                                Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                                Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                                Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                                Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                                Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                                Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                                She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                                Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                                Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                                Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                                #697
                                Jib
                                Participant

                                  Unable to focus his attention on the now, Yann was amazed at his ability to create misunderstandings all around him.
                                  People that were calling him, people that were emailing him… even himself with himself!
                                  Trying to work, he was always clicking on the “wrong” mail, the “wrong” application, the “wrong” icon… wrong wrong wrong… he was laughing inwardly, thinking about what their friend Abby had told them yesterday about always thinking on the lack of or on the I can’t have it… well she was always doing this movement as if she was playing drums… and today at work, a friend of his came and told him it was an beautiful Monday, and she did this very same movement of playing the drum!!! he wasn’t aware that it was quite fitting the day coming.

                                  Though he could still focus on what was accomplishments in this day full of seeming obstacles. He really appreciated having lunch with Yurick, and laughing, talking of dolphins and stuffs ;)) well they were planning and doing many things now that they were living together.

                                  Inspiration was here again, and the motivation too.

                                  He had a dream last night about something that seemed quite important, something connected to him intimately. Almadar :yahoo_idea: what was the name about?

                                  When telling Yurick, it appeared that he had no impression about it, nonetheless he seemed quite interested, and it was also a synch as Yurick was also in the dream. Yann was asking him about modifying a pattern, energetic pattern to help a girl… :yahoo_thinking:

                                  Who was she? She seemed familiar.

                                  #696
                                  Jib
                                  Participant

                                    Georges and Salome’s journal

                                    From Georges’ account of his first encounter with Shu Lom Agamon. Part II

                                    We first met in a series of dreams. I realized we were planning that even before we objectively took our decision with Salome to travel to this dimension, since in the dreams I was recalling previous encounters with him. Shu-Lom was a focus of Blöhmul, and Blöhmul was in many ways connected to this particular travel.

                                    In the dreams we were meeting in a sort of semi spherical place, surrounded by 12 gates. The floor was composed of several materials, and the pattern was quite similar to the portal we used to travel to this dimension though a bit different as it included other aspect-tiles of the Jorid.

                                    One of them was the diapason, vibrating between them both, and the compass was imprinted on the spherical ceiling, moving slowly like a starry night sky. The central triangle was showing some blended colorful energy patterns, changing with the orientation of their discussion.

                                    — Each gate is connected with the others, was saying the Guardian, and you can use them to go wherever you want on the 3 planets. We created their physical manifestations, though they are not physical in the first place. The twelve gates are our representation of our own essence families in this dimension. I can tell you the names by which we call them if you want…

                                    My silent acquiescing was enough, and as he was telling me the names, each corresponding gate was activated until they were all illuminating the room with their iridescent colors.

                                    Part III

                                    #693

                                    He was climbing the steep path to the spring. His attention moving swiftly from one location to another, generating his human flesh body consciousness at each moment. At times he was not generating such a continuous movement and could appear in another place without having physically generated the objective appearance of the movement.

                                    He had no name, he had no necessity for it himself. One of his other focuses was aware of him as John, the Straw Man. That would be the intersection of their focuses. He smiled back at him as he was aware of their connection in that moment. Continuing his exploration of the surrounding, before generating the physical spring, he was also communicating with other focuses or other aspects of consciousness. He was also exploring the shift of attention in different mergences with different qualities of essences. Being dispersed he was part of these other essences also, though it is a rough translation of it.

                                    The movement of the path under his feet was smooth. The quality incorporated in the ground was facilitating his progression to the spring. It was not yet in his main focuses of attention, though it was close, some of his alternate aspects were already there and enjoying the premises and the non physical aspects of its reality. He added some mushrooms aspects in his surrounding as they were conveyed by his John aspect… they were connected to another of his friend. Oh! and a few ostrich eggs suddenly appeared ;))

                                    Yellorange green current of a snoot was swirling around some trees. The John aspect of himself was amazed at the beauty he was generating, and as he was felling Pashi moving her attention toward him in a softurplime mergence, this new aspect of consciousness manifested the spring. The ears of this focus were experiencing the different layers of its movement.

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