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  • #772

    Smiling warmly, and stretching luxuriously and rather felinely, Illi woke up from her dream. The sun had been shining in her dream, as indeed it was on the beach of the sand dragons where she had fallen asleep all those many moons ago. She had many projects underway in her dream, lots of interesting ideas to be sorted out and she knew that many dear ones had been with her in the dream: hiding under tables, and in cupcoards….some in the fridge, some in the lavatory cistern; lending energy and support, albeit behind the scenes. That they were not visibly helping didn’t mean that they weren’t there, in a spirit of helpful cooperation, Illi knew, and she felt comforted.

    When Illi had fallen asleep, she had been bored, hopelessly frustrated . The delights of the island paradise had palled rather quickly. Sure, she could create whatever she wanted, and she had had fun for awhile creating sand creatures and so on, but she had realized that she missed the surprises, the interactions with others, things not going according to plan… her objective plan, at any rate.

    Illi was beginning to accept the fact that she was ‘dead’, at last, but she was starting to see that it wasn’t the ‘end’, but an opportunity for a new beginning.

    Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkiling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

    ~~~

    Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvellous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.

    #750
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

      Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

      Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

      It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

      She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

      She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

      Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

      It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

      Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

      Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

      The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

      An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

      She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

      What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

      I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

      perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

      She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

      #743
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Al woke up from a series of lucid dreams, interspersed with false awakening in which he was in the same space arrangement, but visibly another time space or even dimension… He was quite familiar now with these stuff, and could remember them well, but still had doubt about the implications of the strange imageries he was getting glimpses of.
        It was like his tatami (because at this time, Al was finding more comfortable to sleep on the rice-straw mattress) was a flying carpet with its own volition, and Albert, like some modern-time Aladdin, was finding himself plunged right into new horizons.

        Last vision had almost made him blush of the deranged aspects of his mind. Sure he was finding Becky rather attractive (who wouldn’t, he was wondering), but imaging her scantily clad in that skimpy dress in the middle of the bushes was surely some trick of his luscious mind rather than some bona fide connection of his magic tatami.

        Good thing too that the joggers (or thought-forms, whatever they might have been) in the park in which the magic tatami had landed couldn’t see the projected form of Al, because he was unable to move right now, except for some embarrassing lower part of his body. Now the tatami was looking like a circus tent. Oh dear… the wedding had been really hard on his nerves, he reckoned.

        When he finally woke up, he noticed some voice messages on his telephone from Becky and thought he would probably skip mentioning his last synchronicity of his :yahoo_whistling:
        What was she wanting that necessitated a dozen messages on his phone? Couldn’t she just call Sean, or was he still incapacitated by the gallons of vodka he had “injested”?
        Well, surely the matter would wait for him to shave, for he was starting to look like Mr Cavern, with the huge hunger too —he smiled at the idea that dear Becky would surely fear he might eat a clue by mistake…

        :fleuron:

        Moments later, after a good shower, fresh clothes and some slices of buttered nuts bread with pumpkin jam, he telepathically connected to Becky, wondering why she had not thought of that method in the first place… What was the point of all these group meditations together with Sam and Tina if they couldn’t make good profit of the enhanced neurological pathways they had built together. Granted Becky had always been a bit reluctant to use it, or perhaps just forgetful of that possibility… Anyway…

        CAN’T YOU JUST KNOCK BEFORE YOU CONNECT! a shriek suddenly filled his skull

        Al immediately shut the visual, blushing of the renewed deranged vision…

        — Sorry, I just…
        — Oh, no need to trail forever on that… I’ve found someone to help me, and yes, I do remember how to connect telepathically!

        With that, all was left in Al’s skull was a big whooshing wind.

        #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.

          #2109

          In reply to: Snooteries

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Dear Anonymouse,

            I had a sudden intuition (if you’ll excuse me butting in here, Snoot) about the sudden stomach pains and diarrhoea, Flove. I also had a spell of that Macropsia or whatever it was recently, and I suspect imaginary mushroom poisoning.

            You’ll be happy to know that the imaginary cure worked

            T.L.M.B.

            #2103

            In reply to: Snooteries

            The SnootThe Snoot
            Participant

              Deer Anony Mouse!
              Your scent is sincere and I will offer you my response in anticipation of our next meeting.
              The Snoot is the Snoot and you can ask the Snoot whatever you want because it’s the Snoot asking itself a question…

              #704
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Well, now there’s an idea, Elvira said, closing the book she’d been reading. Hhmmm….

                Boris, how about a trip back home to see the folks?

                Boris looked up in astonishment. Home? see the folks? What for? Elvira had said right from the start, Don’t ever expect me to go to Siberia! And Boris had never pushed the matter; after all, he was in no hurry to return there either. In the 3 years they’d been together, the subject had never come up.

                Listen to this, Boris. Elvira picked up the book and started reading.

                “….in May, Kerouac had written to Timothy Leary requesting some ‘SM’ or Siberian mushrooms, after Ginsberg told him that they would enable Jack to complete a chapter each day…”

                Boris, we can make a fortune! We can stay with your folks. Mushroom season starts soon, we’ll stay for the season, dry them or whatever you have to do, pack them into dolls or something, and have them shipped back here.

                Well I don’t know, Elvira….I like it here.

                Oh pooh, Boris, we’ve been in London for almost a year, and I’m bored. It’ll only be for a few months, and then think of all that money! How many of our friends have writers block? All of them! The market is there, Boris! We’ll have writers beating a path to our door for SM’s…..

                #699
                Jib
                Participant

                  Georges and Salome’s journal

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

                  We were now at the center of the structure formed by these twelve gates.

                  The energy currents of the different families involved in this exchange were almost palpable. I could allow my attention in whatever direction I wanted, and I was aware of different essences of the nine families of our dimension of origin. Salome was here with me, but not as objectively involved as I was, yet. She was supportive of this even as were the other essences. And I could feel other family structures involved in other dimensions. We were at the center of a multidimensional portal between all the dimensions, and I was focusing my main attention to the twelve gates of Alienor. I was aware of our different threads of attention in this area of consciousness, the one in which I was drawing to myself informations about the Alienor dimension, and the one in which Shu-Lom was drawing informations about our own dimension.

                  I was perceiving the gates in a certain order that was relevant in one particular exploration. The structure was directly springing from myself and I could feel that the structure that would be perceived by Shu-Lom would be quite different and individualized. The structure I was aware of in a particular dream was facilitating of certain informations, and even though there was a particular arrangement of the families in the Alienor dimension, between the dreams, and depending on where my attention was focused, the gates were reorganizing themselves.

                  Most of the time, I had the Almadar energy “behind” me, and the Meshran vibration before me. It was connected to my particular intent in the exploration of that dimension as a focus, and as essence.

                  Shu-Lom was more aligned with the Taa’Maroo and the Ulemjel families, the Holders and the Keepers. He explained to me that it was connected also to him being one of what I could only translate as “Guardians”. Those Guardians were strongly connected to the Taa’Maroo intent…

                  [the rest of the account is yet to be decrypted]

                  #689
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    These are MY eggs! Nobody touches my eggs!
                    Oh come on, you’re not gonna make these ostrich eggs hatch Cathy… Better have them made into a nice big omelet for our guests… Fleur said with a tentative smile.
                    And why use MY eggs for that?! Moooom, she’s trying to steal my eggs…

                    What’s with all that fuss here? a coarse, yet sensual female voice said in the background of the kitchen.
                    Mom, she wants to make an omelet with the eggs that granddad gave me…
                    Calm down Catherine, will you… Is that true Fleur?
                    Err… Madam Wrick, I suppose it was only a stupid joke… Thing is that wasn’t such a bad idea… There will be quite a few guests tonight, and… she began to falter as the eyebrows of Dorean Wrick were taking a more severe look. Err… I’m sorry, M’am, I’ll send Raster fetch some food for a nice meat pie, will it be nice?
                    Perfect. That settles the matter then… Catherine, go back to your room, and let Fleur work. I’ll send you a maid to help you be prepared for our guests arrival.
                    Yes, Mum.

                    What a silly idea Theobald, her father have had, to give her step-daughter those eggs for her birthday… Big funny green eggs. He’d said they were ostrich eggs, but there were no ostrich in Mexico, as far as she knew. Of course, now the little girl’s only idea was to have the birds hatch and to mount them and ride in the slopes of Ireland.
                    This family was definitely insane, Dorean was thinking.
                    At least, she had thought her own branch of the family tree had been spared by the folly of her relatives and their attraction for occult and intangible things, but with that odd gift, it seemed to her more than likely that her father had followed the steps of his wricked brother… Or perhaps it was only an old man’s way of passing time. But knowing her father down-to-earth nature, that was not like him. He didn’t do things out of a whim, and there was probably more than met the eye having to do with the funny eggs…

                    A few days ago, shortly after New Year’s eve and stepping into year 2034, she’d had received an unexpected parcel from her cousin, Sean Doran. A couple of wrapped books, he was asking her to keep in store for him. She always had liked her cousin, though they had only met two or three times when they were children. Thing was, family matters were more a wrickage than anything else, and they had barely kept in touch over the years.
                    She had distractedly opened the big ornate leather-bound books only to discover they were blank. What was the purpose of all of this, she didn’t know. But unlike most people, Dorean wasn’t interested in others’ businesses. She would keep the books, whatever they meant.

                    And she had more pressing matters now.
                    Her guest were coming. Elvira and her demented husband were moving back, and were due to arrive tonight after a rather long expatriation in the lands of Russia. Having met that strange and impressive individual, the perspective of getting away in a foreign land leaving all the past behind, all of this had most probably saved Elvira from her depressive mood…
                    But she had been so isolated from her past that Dorean suspected that these almost thirty years abroad would have changed her profoundly.

                    #687

                    Kay wasn’t sure about what happened after that.
                    Akita was laughing, a slow and deep laugh. His face was changing oddly as his energy was generating different speeds and movements.
                    And Anita was laughing too and speaking about a big pink pig, melting around Akita.
                    That’s when Kay began feeling the difference in energy. The 4 other essences were observing with a strong interest what was hapenning to the man, and other essences were arriving… so many of their attentions here, the place was quite crowded and Kay was beginning to feel overwhelmed. All the surrounding area was oscillating dangerously.
                    It was like a hole in the veils between the dimensions, and it was frightening Kay.

                    Kay took his decision quickly. He jumped. Bit Akita’s leg.

                    The sharp pain was apparently enough to stop whatever was happening.
                    Akita was shouting, swearing with rage, and that was familiar and reassuring to Kay.
                    Whatever it was, Kay would not let it happen again, and the spiders were not involved. Nothing to do with their energy.

                    #685

                    Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

                    Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

                    Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

                    The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

                    Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

                    She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

                    Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

                    I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

                    Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

                    Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

                    And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

                    Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

                    I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

                    Yeah, right…..

                    Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

                    The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

                    Where have all my interesting things GONE?

                    #1645

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Yesterday, after Jib’s comment (#529) about the flying car (see video) and nine-tailed foxes, we were heading to the railway station, and a yellow car came just in front of us, with FOX written above the license plate (which was 9359 as far as I remember, because it made me think of the XSAMX one by Francie)…
                      WTM

                      #1997

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      ÉricÉric
                      Keymaster

                        A cloud-assisted demented rewrite, just for fun…

                        PERPLEXED BY THAT PARTICULAR case, THE sheriff HAD HIS glassES floatING BEFORE HIS eyeS.

                        SOME mean rather weird beings… THE brotherHOOD OF magic NEEDED TO SEND Elikozoe INTO A space Craft TO CARE FOR THE boy WHO felt six motherSHIPS COMING IN HIS dreams.

                        DURING THESE moments easily FORGOTTEN, SOME others young legends WERE sent Aside TO answer AND bounce WITH alone aspects THAT wondered HOW TO keep focused.

                        THE trees WERE laughing “yeah!” THEY SAID, AS Anita FELT cold AMONG THE roseS randomLY SCATTERED.
                        SOME told HER ABOUT love, AS SHE asked WHETHER dragons REALLY seemed LIKE nothing ELSE SHE HAD SEEN BEFORE.

                        Chris turned wondering ABOUT nature THESE days WHEN everyone, Elizabeth INCLUDED, KEPT thinking WHAT THEIR hair looked LIKE FROM behind.

                        DEEP inside, SOME help began slightly TO COME TO THE lady AS SOON AS THE dark cloud HAD taken HER TO sleep. THE truth IN particular WAS LIKE A friend WITH purple COLOURS AND A skull IN HIS HAND, WHO sat WAITING FOR HER.
                        “let HOPE COME, despite whatever FATE bringS TO THE door! YOU must wait SOMETIMES, AS factS follow!”

                        Nice Tina WAS caught floating ON THE STREAM, AND moving ALONG IN A green jogGING GEAR WAS Joe, BOTH full OF IDEAS THAT gave THEIR friends AN experience NEWLY created. BUT THEY needed magpieS AND tried FOR THESE creatureS INSERTION TO work.

                        FOR Arona, ALL WAS happening ON Earth LIKE SOME important dream. IT WAS LIKE dancing IN A real play, WITH THE sea NEARBY.
                        A series OF dog-EARED BOOKS WERE NEARLY outside, AND deep INSIDE, SHE KNEW THE novelS WERE close TO surface OUR dimension, WITH HER head looking BEYOND, AS perhaps Yurick WOULD AGREE.
                        HIS heart often sounds interesting, BUT OF ALL THE ones SHE liked, IT SHOULD BE herself.
                        THE Duane SHALL BE rememberED, SHE thought, IN DUE times…

                        WITH THE goat, Anna suddenly giveS THE blue busy spiders SOME NEW reality, AND Kay IS getting hot. SHE HAD forgotten THAT handS COULD BE making names, AND SHOUTING HER CreEd, THE voice OF THE girl SAID IT matterED THAT THE story became shouted IN THE sky.
                        Eric WAS ENduring Sanso WHO loved THE sandY BEACHES.

                        STAYING clear THIS NEW year DEMANDS SOME self AWARENESS, ESPECIALLY ON THE yellow CHAKRA points, TO ALLEVIATE UNNECESSARY physical pain.

                        CLAD IN teal, SHE WAS waiting FOR HIS parents’ words TO HAVE moved AND TO BE connected. Franiel HAD FELT within HIMSELF four OLD fatherS’ ADVICES, AND HAD AGREED TO TALK TO Salome’S face AND ANSWER HER call THAT HAD APPEARED quickly UPON THE wall AND HAD BEEN wandering OVER HIS bed.
                        HE careD FOR THE past, AND THAT VISION WAS telling. IN THE morning, HE SAW IT AS A gift, SHINING IN SOME DISTANT island, LIKE A moviNG presence.

                        Yann VowED TO FIND HIS WAY IN THE soup OF linkS, AND FIND THE OLD godS’ energy THAT kept THE planetS MOVING.
                        HE heard SOMETHING, A FUGACIOUS moment following HIS ADMIRING OF THE beautiful weather, UNDER THE Glistening sun. A SINGLE dragon’S hands COULD nurse POTENT writing abIlITIeS, AND soon WOULD open GREAT awareNESS OF joy AND moveMENTS AND music WHICH WOULD MAKE HIM laugh OF ALL THAT HE WAS creating WITHIN THIS focus.

                        Tracy FEELS away OF THE action. IT seems QUITE human… NOTHING IS white DURING twilight, SHE noticed, AND FELT given TO understand.
                        AS MRS Bellamy, SHE WOULD HAVE stopPED LONG ago, HAD NOT come THAT powerful mummy.
                        WITH Georges startING TO APPEAR, worry BECOMES quietNESS FOR Jib, AND crystal-CLEARNESS FOR Sam.
                        MANY years AHEAD IN A GALAXY far-AWAY, ANOTHER Dory IS named AND readS ABOUT DR Bronklehampton’s WORKS.
                        HAVING TAKING leaveS, AND BEING gone FOR ALL, OLD Hrih DELVES INTO THE skulls AND HIS eyes SEE A next hope IN A book.
                        MovementS HAPPEN FOR Claudio already… THE world woke UP IN surprise.
                        A known sense OF TIMESPACE-travel APPEARS IN THE commentS, AS seen THROUGH light.

                        Akita’S body AND mind started TO ACT LIKE A saint AND FEEL strange under THE change.
                        “TO danGER, bugger!” WAS HIS decision NO longer… HE FELT warm… Towards THE worlds treeS, askING HIMSELF IF IT WAS A game, HE SAW TWO male children PLAYING against EACH OTHER.
                        THEY managed TO show HIM THAT THE Murtuane WAS familiar.
                        THE whole air WAS speaking. IT sort OF opened ITSELF SO THAT HE knew later OF THAT SPECIAL room OF TIME AND SPACE, AND HAD THE WIND AGAIN BRUSH HIS skin similar TO WHEN HE WAS seeing home IN HIS HEAD.

                        Felicity IN THE BEDlam SAW half-formS, COUNTING three OF THEM, INCLUDING Gustav IN THE saloon, AND Becky WHO WAS THINKING SHE WAS AGAIN IN THE wrong PLACE: A monastery!
                        SHE’D RATHER HAVE yourself BE A star, AND HERSELF BE HERE TO MAKE THE FUN postS AND playing lost.

                        Eight powers smiled: true saying!
                        THE sisters focuses IN THEIR caveS HAD SOME fine land TO PLAY WITH.
                        Apparently sound WAS key once, BUT THE VOICES IN THE night speak UNCEASINGLY, AND TO write SOME great stories, SPEAK strongLY. THEY seem TO BE feeling yesterday SOME perfect movements…

                        THE marmoset HAD FOUND A family, AND funny wordS TO process. IT laughed short GIGGLES
                        AS FOR myself, SAID THE cat TO Floyd, I’D create A party-LIKE life, WHERE I DO AS I please, AND LET paper WORK AND feelINGS AND desireS AND tryING AND tellING TO monkey.
                        THAT shapeD SOME fun, AND syncHRONICITIES AGAIN happened SHORTLY.

                        IN THE FLOWING water, “aum” SOUNDS RIPPLED IN A huge dear dance beginning TO REFLECT himself IN images. HE sighed AS HIS attention GOT INVOLVED IN THE trip AND HE remembered…
                        ON THE beach, obviously AWARE OF THE synchRONICITIES, THE creatures wanted TO CLAP THUNDEROUS applauseS.
                        LIVING THE dead GUYS’ ideaS…

                        #652
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Circles of eight, squalked the parrot, circles of Eight QUAA QUAA QUAAAAAA, he shrieked, as Becky walked into the vets clutching her little dog under her arm.

                          No need to shout, Maya! Chump, the little wiry terrier whispered to the parrot.

                          Becky surreptitiously scanned the waiting room to see if anyone had noticed the talking dog, and breathed a sigh of relief. The half dozen people were shouting between themselves at full volume, their voices reverberating around the tiled room, and no-one had noticed. A fat white bulldog puppy winked at Becky, and blew her a kiss.

                          Lordy, thought Becky, whatever next.

                          #637
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Is there anything I can do? Tina had phoned to see how Becky was, and Sean had answered the phone.

                            Hang on a moment, Tina ….. What’s that Beckipooh? … She says can you tell Felicity she has changed her mind about tribal, hmmm, whatever that means. His voice lowered, she is saying some very strange things Tina, ….. Nothing Becks, I am not whispering …. and can you send some blue diamond healing energy… this conversation is getting stranger and stranger!

                            Okay will do, give her my love.

                            Wait a moment Tina …. what is it darling, what are you saying about a gang of magpies? ….

                            #628

                            Chris, I demand you tell me what’s going on! What was that … that thing! Nurse Bellamy was visibly upset, her cheeks flushed, her voice tremulous. She had no idea what had just happened, but she suspected that even coconut milk might not make it better this time.

                            Are you going to tell her or do I have to do it? asked Veranassessee. Because if you can pull yourself together I have a couple of guests locked in a closet, and now a mummy on the run to deal with! It had been a tiring day and Veranassessee was furious.

                            V’ass what’s going on, Chris, will someone please tell me ….!

                            I will tell her Veranassessee. Dr Bronkelhampton slumped in his chair and wondered where to start. A plan was beginning to form in his head. V’ass had always said Nurse Bellamy should be told the truth, now it seems that, as usual, she was right. But of course, he smiled to himself, as Dr Lemane, his erudite Professor at medical school had always said, there are many sniggly variations of one truth. Well, it was something along those lines he said anyway.

                            :fleuron2:

                            Oh this is the bees knees! what do you reckon about this room then Sha? Do you think the treatment has started?

                            Perhaps it is special beauty air in here. It smells different don’t it?

                            They both breathed deeply. Oh Yes, Yes, YES! giggled Glor

                            Sha?

                            Yes?

                            It’s a bit odd though don’t you think? I mean nothing like what I was thinking.

                            :fleuron2:

                            The mummy headed towards the dense bush, her brain was foggy but she knew she had to find cover. Her limbs felt heavy. Keep going, just keep going …

                            :fleuron2:

                            Nurse Bellamy could not stop crying. Oh Chris … oh you poor man. I always thought there was something odd about Veranassessee. Oh what shall we do my darling, she must be stopped!

                            Quite right, she must my little poppet, soothed Dr Bronkelhampton, stroking Nurse Bellamy’s hair gently, and thinking quickly. But for now, keep it to yourself. It is a very delicate matter. Can you do that my sweet one? Just for me?

                            Oh yes Chris! whatever you think best my my darling.

                            #622

                            Somewhere during the 23 rd century

                            “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

                            “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

                            The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

                            Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

                            — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
                            — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
                            — What do you mean?
                            — You know, my last experiment?
                            — The g…
                            — Yes!
                            — What?!
                            — They poofed away…
                            — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

                            :fleuron:

                            A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

                            — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
                            — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
                            — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
                            — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
                            — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
                            — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
                            — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
                            — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

                            :fleuron2:

                            San Demangelo, 1848

                            Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

                            — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
                            — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
                            — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
                            — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
                            — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

                            #618
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Felicity, or the “Bridal Goddess” as she called herself, was most encouraging when Becky said she was after something “a bit different” for her wedding day. Weddings had been having a resurgence of popularity in the last few years, obviously it was not the solid institution it was decades ago, but many people still liked to exchange intentions for their relationship. Most regarded marriage fondly as a rather quaint institution from the past.

                              I will help you create your dream wedding! Felicity gushed enthusiastically. Most important is that you wear something you absolutely adore and that looks simply stunning on you for your special day. What sort of look did you have in mind?

                              oh, um tribal actually, said Becky, vaguely, suddenly remembering she hadn’t mentioned her plans to Sean. He could be a tad on the conservative side at times . In fact, come to think of it, had she even mentioned to him that they were getting married?

                              Fantastic! Demure tribal? Revealing tribal? I do all sorts of tribals, whatever you want!

                              Hmmm said Becky reflectively, well probably not demure.

                              No agreed Tina, not demure.

                              :fleuron:

                              A few hours later Becky and Tina were recovering from the ordeal, as Tina called it dramatically, over a cup of organic trim alpaca’s milk expresso Lucciato

                              Hey what’s this about a soup party? asked Tina. I couldn’t get much sense out of Sam, but he says you are helping with it.

                              Yeah it’s going to be great!

                              Well, just so long as you aren’t doing the catering, it should be great, thought Tina, shuddering at the memory of stuffed Nasturtium Blossoms and Locust Bisque Becky had served at their last get-together. Not forgetting the garlic icecream for dessert.

                              I heard that! It was healthy Tina! retorted Becky defensively.

                              Bugger telepathy sighed Tina

                              #1992

                              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                              F LoveF Love
                              Participant

                                Pain interesting …. :help: dark quickly, game change, lost obviously, bring bandages,

                                weird weather. :weather-few-clouds:

                                Whatever …

                                Franiel wondering … yellow color …. raft named random truth? Try move nothing. Perhaps heart speak sometimes quiet. Thinking energy….remember herself moments, process inside light, past help outside …. wait, familiar wall happening … floating mind sea movement.

                                Yurick noticed …. told mummy story, attention Bronkelhampton. :mummy: Joe tell sheriff spiders answer, bugger party!
                                Cold worry gone …. laughing. Dear bright cave, already connected.

                                :yahoo_rose:

                                #612

                                It’d been two hexades that the Abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee had been laying in bed in poor condition.
                                At first, he had wanted to be as strong as he had always been towards hardships, but he’d finally admitted that quelching the pain wasn’t doing any good to him. So he had agreed to be taken care of by a young monk, and to lay in bed as long as was necessary.
                                He knew that he was very likely not to get out of that bed but with his body covered by a white sheet, nevertheless, the thought was still something distant. The pain in his body was making him so present to himself that the only thing that was still blatant was that he was.
                                More than the body, it was all his faith that was shaken. He had thought he would leave this life without mess, without pain, probably very discreetly in his sleep… But now, his head was wincing at every noise, even the nature’s sounds that once felt like music to his ears, he was eschewing them now as much as he could. His very skin was hot and couldn’t bear even the soft contact of the bedsheets.
                                What was the point of all of this? He had never doubted that everything had its purpose, but now, he was doubting…
                                He was even trying to find some reasonable reasons for what was happening, he who never trusted in reasonable reasons in the first place. Perhaps that was because of his seating under the chilly air and the warm sun in front of the Meditation Wall, reading for all of the poems that had been written by the monks who had dared to write. Perhaps he had “taken cold”, whatever that means…
                                “Perhaps not” the voice kept saying softly in his head.

                                Now, his whole succession was feeling like a moot point. After all, he was not even capable of saving himself from anything, then how could what he created make the slightest difference? These were all like an extension of his body, bound to decay and come back to Earths.

                                Not so many monks had dared write upon the Wall about their highest truth. A few jokesters had begun at first, helping the others to participate.
                                One in particular had had Hrih laugh for quite a while.

                                A toad is a toad
                                Unless kissed
                                Endless Bliss

                                Then a dozen of others had flourished upon the wall, until Aum Geong decided to write his own. He’d not wanted to go first, to allow the others to express without the burden of comparison, and also to have some more time to write something deep and thoughtful. But that profusion of nonsense between some occasional pearls of wisdom made him write his own.

                                Unattainable is the Truth
                                For in the Dust of things
                                All in our View is bleak

                                Doing Wrong we forswear
                                For Dust to be lifted
                                And Wisdom we seek

                                In the deed of the Elders
                                And the Faith in the Community
                                Light and Trust bespeak

                                All the monks had been quite impressed, but Hrih had not been entirely satisfied by it… To be honest, he even completely disagreed with it.
                                Now, however, stuck in this bed, the poem was playing in his head and suggesting that the Worlds were something terrible that he had not yet understood, or be willing to avoid seeing. Perhaps Aum Geong was wiser than he was.
                                Perhaps all that Hrih had put as foundational to his life had all been Dust…
                                “There is no Dust, and you know that” the voice whispered softly.

                                Now that he is about to die, what difference will it make anyway…
                                He reach out for a bowl of water, and almost let it fall, as the weight of it surprised him. He was becoming so weak… He never had been so self-conscious in many many many years.

                                After he had propped himself up to drink a few burning swallows of the lukewarm water, he noticed something folded on his bedside, that had been put under the bowl… Young Franiel had been the one attending him with Jog Lam, so it must have been the doing of one of them. He intuited that was Franiel.

                                As he read the stanzas, tears were in his eyes…

                                I am the driftwood
                                the wave carried me
                                I was buried in sand

                                I am the flower
                                the butterfly touched me
                                I fell in love

                                I am the raindrop
                                the cloud released me
                                I became the ocean

                                The Young monk had probably not dared write it on the Wall, especially after most of the monks’ vocal appreciations of Aum Geong’s poem…
                                “Perhaps not” the voice again spoke.
                                Another reason for it formed into Hrih’s mind. Franiel perhaps didn’t feel ready for such responsibilities and his role and fulfillment in this community was not form rules nor to continue it.
                                It was more to inspire them, and perhaps to start his own discoveries.

                                Hrih wrote a note behind the paper. He wanted to leave something for Franiel, for him to keep faith in his coming adventures during these coming times of change.
                                After a deep breath, he took another paper that was with him for already such a long time, wrote down some words, and signed it, the aura of his hand burning a glyph that was his signature in the paper. He then called for Jog Lam.

                                — Jog Lam, my friend…
                                — Elder?
                                — I’m dying…
                                — I know Elder
                                — Let me continue. (Jog Lam nodded)
                                First, will you give that paper to Young Franiel after the cremation ceremonies. (Jog Lam nodded again)
                                Second, I want you to relay that I have made my decision, and that Aum Geog will succeed me (Jog Lam’s surprise was noticeable in his eye). He is, to date, the most adequate successor for this monastery.
                                — I will do as you want.
                                — Thank you my friend.
                                — Elder…
                                — Farewell, my friend, I am always with you.

                                When Jog Lam stoically left the room, Hrih Chokyam laid down, his eyes on the ceiling. His body was so weak that all he could do was to project behind his closed eyelids and see the starry sky, even if he would have wanted something different for his death. He would have loved something like a nap in a sunlit meadow with a little singing brook.
                                But seeing the actual World was something even more precious to him. The barren mountains of the icy season, the clear unclouded sky. His mind was so full of energy that his body lacked.

                                With a deep feeling of gratitude for his body, he bid it farewell.

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