Chapter 15

"I can't believe that!" said Alice.
"Can't you?" the Queen said in a pitying tone. "Try again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes."
Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said: "one can't believe in impossible things."
"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen.

Lewis Carroll
Through the Looking Glass

December 1994

There is an excavation going on. A man joins the team as leader and begins digging into the ice, chopping with a big blade thing. He looks up, and I realize I am "watching a movie." The man flashes between an actor, someone else, and a man familiar but I don't know. I say, man, he must've been cold filming this scene! And he continues to dig. Then I realize, oh yeah, it's the blonde-me, of the four! And the movie symbology vanishes as I realize his identity (as usual).

He appears to be on the edge of something, perhaps a cliff, breaking big vertical sheets of ice off going inward, then sheets off the top, and it's clear he is looking for something that he knows is there, and he knows where. He digs with a passion, and once he looks up and looks into my eyes, and I realize that he deeply loves whatever he is digging for.

Next scene, not entirely linear sequences in this dream: I am looking downward into this incredibly deep rectangular hole, and it's clear that it's the end of the excavation and they/he (another man had been somehow simultaneously him while he was digging) found what they were looking for. It is a huge, gold sarcophagus, it seems rather Egyptian to me (well actually, I've never seen a sarcophagus from anywhere else, so that might be an assumption). (What it is doing under ice on the side of a mountain or something is beyond me.) It seemed pretty darn large to just hold a normal corpse, at least from above.

Wandering around the bottom area, standing next to the case in the big hole, is the blonde man and one other person, a man, he was familiar but I couldn't place who it was. I "join them" in perspective, I'm not sure if I was standing down there too, or if I merely "joined them" literally and saw from their eyes, I think that was it. They are talking about the person assumed to be inside the case.

And suddenly behind them/us is this woman. She is really tall and has long dark straight hair, and is completely nude. We are surprised and yet somehow not overly surprised, simultaneously. I think maybe we were merged, and I was surprised and they weren't, so I got both feelings. She indicates it is her that has been [in the gold sarcophagus] until now. One of us said or thought (I think it was me), Well is she dead then? And she says something like Well... [I don't remember the words] in a manner leading me to realize that either the death of her once physical body is completely irrelevant, that she can manifest physically if she wants... or she never actually was dead, she was more like in stasis... either way, she just needed to be freed from the ice over her, by us, a part of her.

And it seemed that her death was also somehow symbolic more than literal. And she says something like, it was specified that a certain number of years she would remain [dead? pretending death? identity frozen below the surface, unaware of her True Self? symbolically hidden? I'm not sure], and the original date was that she had eight more years to go. I interpreted this to mean that either (a) something had changed and she was now freed early; or (b) she would be wandering around for as long as another 8 or so before something specific happened according to the "timeline" created at the time of her "agreed upon and deliberate bondage." (Not like "eight years before something happens" but rather "eight years until the specified time for her biggest role in time occurs.")

(The woman I now realize -- I did then, but dimly -- is the same as the woman in dreams I regularly have where the four of us merge; the same woman in the Egyptian Room dream. The man digging was the blonde-me. The other man was the highest of the four. I'm not yet integrated with him and don't see him well.)

Then another scene, there are additional people in a very large room that this woman is brought into. The man who was with us at the edge of the case is now sitting in a chair or throne like he's some kind of authority. The blonde man and I stand beside him. She stands before us, unashamed of her nakedness and with a solid, self knowing attitude that makes people seem unaware of the fact, a conceptual "cloaked in authority" type of thing.

The man on the throne asks her her name. She throws her shoulders back, her head back, and she chants in almost a shout some incredibly long word. Across her breasts, just at the top/above them, from one side of her body to another, appears this long word in some strange alphabet, which I took to mean, this was her name... it was written in gold light. I realized suddenly that she was damn powerful and something I might call spiritual royalty. I was rather awed.

There is some break in my memory; then the blonde-me is looking at me, very closely, looking into my eyes, and he says very slowly, clearly and distinctly and seriously like he wants me to understand and remember: I am Noshaimus. There was something more but I don't remember.

Then there was a shift, and a different scene that seems almost unconnected to the above, like a regular dream. I am in a room with a person, it was somehow a combination of my father and my boss, and I am preparing to leave, or they are, or something, I/they have only a few moments before departure. On the TV comes a movie preview. In the preview, the actor is playing some serious scene, wearing elaborate clothes.

I then realize with a growing sense of sadness that he and the movie he was advertising were exactly spelling out the facts for the mass media, even if under the title of fiction. I realize this means that things are no longer going to be a secret and therefore, I know there is very little time before the end of things on this planet as we know them, that the change is going to begin soon, folks are being prepared, and it'll happen not long after I (or my dad or boss) leave.

I begin to feel like crying, only because I see now it is inevitable. It's not so much that it is a terrible thing, as that I just wish there was more time, I wish the world had longer before all that came to pass; I'm sad that I didn't get to do a "normal life" this time.

December, 1994

The last week I've been having "time" dreams that I can't quite recall the details of. I do know this, though: it is as if I am some sort of astral counselor helping people find their "time" and grounding them in it, anchoring them in a time that is appropriate to them. It's almost as if people can get as "lost" in time as they can in space, or something.

The foreboding mood of much of this subject really gets on the nerves of everybody after awhile, both "contactee"s and researchers alike.

Letter, December, 1994

It just makes me mad. It sucks, having personal contact and apparently teaching from "entities" that you don't understand -- how is one supposed to feel? Sometimes it seems really positive like you're special and they love you, and sometimes the opposite and they bash you, and sometimes seems glorious and fascinating and evolutionary, and sometimes seem terrifying in a mortal fashion beyond what 3D life seems to be able to inspire, and sometimes seems like a spiritual thing, and sometimes seems like a physical thing, and sometimes seems like a "higher entity" thing, and sometimes seems like an "alien" thing, and sometimes appears to be just a dream, and sometimes it's in the middle inexplicably, and sometimes it's physical and there's no mistake, and of course, throughout this, all the time you feel like you've become a stark raving lunatic and maybe you're just completely imagining the whole thing even the physical stuff and need to be locked up

And then add to that some of the paranoids telling you how evil the aliens are and how you're working with the bad guys and are unfairly tortured by them and sexually assaulted in a genetic manner you just don't know it and they're only training you so you can become a slave to some cosmic war or you can Betray The Human Race. After all this I nearly am insane, whether or not I began so!

It's a real bridge to get over, this thinking how crazy you are, and when you finally decide you're not (or at least that it's ok, or you're not alone), you're still left with the realization that anybody with a brain halfway like yours is going to hear your story and think you're a 'loon.

It's a real dilemma there's simply nobody "grounded" to talk to sometimes. The end result is, I have nobody to talk with who has/is experiencing the same things, who has a relatively open and undecided mind on the "what/why" topics. Is there nobody, in this whole field of supposedly objective researchers and experiencers, who is truly objective? Who doesn't have some prefabricated opinion that their own experience -- and mine -- has to fit into?

Letter, December, 1994

Thanks for your support. It's a given in my history in cyber that anything with B. near it all but pushes me over the edge into such ambivalence I'm obnoxious to everyone equally and nobody fairly. I appreciate the support of you and others here who've written me. I don't actually mind being entertainment -- not much choice! I just want to feel comfortable saying what I feel without being assumed to be part of anybody else's theology. I figure within about a month of my experiences getting typed out here nobody will be in doubt that I have only two brain cells operating on this dimension (or period), and while my reputation may end up shot to hell this is my "self therapy" on the subject. Guess it's a "so there!" to the doubting part of my Self. Or <Canon in D music> "Hi," <lights candle>, "My name is PJ, and I've been kidnapped by Aliens From Another Dimension."

The "psi" symptoms, as usual, continued.

January, 1995

I was driving down the road, having left grandma's house, on my way to the movies. The traffic was casual, medium; the weather was good. Suddenly I was overcome with this "knowledge" that I was about to be in a car accident. I quickly scanned all my mirrors, but could see no reason for such an intuition. It recurred, strongly, about two seconds later, and I shouted NO! out loud, frustrated. I felt a bit better, and I continued driving down the road.

About 10 seconds later, I felt my head turning to the right, as if of its own accord, very slowly, and I very casually watched, as if it were in slow motion, as a truck behind me and one lane to the right crashed into a truck just beside me. Very hard. It felt so strange, like I had already seen it happen and was merely watching a slow motion instant replay.

The people I wrote about my experiences with were pretty good about supporting me. On the other hand, even the most positive of them were skeptical.

Letter, January, 1995

<<I admire the fact that you are hanging in there and functioning within the "normal" world just fine given what you have experienced - this lends a lot of credence to your story. I mean, you haven't lost it to the extent that you can no longer function in the "real world," and quite possibly you haven't "lost it" at all - but instead are becoming able to view more of reality than most of us can.>>

Thanks. You mean there were options?! Gee, what would I do if I didn't hang in there, I wonder? It's not like I haven't been upset, traumatized, confused and freaked out at any given time. It's just that well, what the heck am I supposed to do about it? Life goes on. Best I can do is have a positive outlook on it, is see it as a groovy form of growth (no matter what it may actually be, including insanity).

I can wax on about metaphysics or aliens but no matter how real it is even when it's been 100% 3D and affected my physical life I still have to go to work in the morning. It has made for interesting experiences, but it doesn't pay my rent. And if I don't sleep because somebody "comes and nabs me" and I come to at 4:30am and am totally exhausted, ankles swollen from sleeping sitting up, or can't walk for days because I'm injured life as we know it is still here, and I'm still making up excuses about why I'm limping or why I have circles under my eyes or whatever.

I'm still trying to deal with a frenetic psychological refusal to sleep, a physically demanding form of getting knocked out (possibly to solve the no-sleep issue), and all the other issues -- and make it to work for another 10-14 hour day where I play Ms. Competent and pretend I'm not totally wacked on my off-hours.

My sole goal the last year has been to insure that my "night and weekend life" did not intrude on my "real life" which is what I call work. I mean, I can just imagine the reaction if I told everybody I overslept because I was out with aliens, now there's a working reputation to live by! Living in multiple, um, I guess "dimensions" at night is one thing; sleeping under a bridge because I'm unemployed is another. The need to keep up professional appearances has required that I have my feet on the ground. (If no other part of me.)

<<....or you have a tremendous talent for creating fabulous fiction and calling it a true story; it has been done before. (I don't really believe this, but my mind must remain open to all possibilities.)>>

No problem, I understand -- I wish, sometimes! I'm working on writing these things in a readable manner, letting myself explain the feelings and settings, more all the time. Used to be when I first wrote something down, I was so busy trying to "stick to facts" and not inject anything "subjective" (which of course is 98% of the experience!) that it's not readable, tends to go, "I went here. Did that. Saw that. Went back. Then this happened." Very dry and not at all a complete conceptual picture of the event from my perspective, far less accurate. I've been working on fleshing out my feelings, my impressions, the whole textural and contextual picture.

The only difficult part is being fair, you know; fleshing can't include creativity because then I'd have skewed the 'truth' (whatever that is) of the experience, and it ceases to be decent data to work with. And there are a lot of levels of "feelings" and "impressions" you can get from something... deciding when to say it was "this" vs. "like this" is hard, and if you end up saying "sort of / somewhat / kind of / a bit like" enough in a description, the whole continuity of the event is lost in semi-caveats.

So far no luck, but I remain optimistic that somebody less involved than I am but smarter than me is going to be able to sort out this data and give me more insight into it.

The whole "Cosmic Impending Doom" scenario, combined with the various paranoias involved in this field, is simply exhausting. I tried to make myself objective, to not refuse anything solely because I didn't want the future to be that way, but failed. I'd like to say I'm objective, but I'd be lying. The truth is, I don't want to believe that my future is going to be lousy, so I refuse to.

Letter, January, 1995

Well hell. You're right: I don't like your version of The Way Things Are Going To Be. While it's creative enough for a good sci fi flick, it frankly depresses the crud out of me. It's almost a dilemma for me, because I finally find somebody who absolutely believes me without reservation, which was a relief, rather nice. On the other hand, you interpret everything in your own light: as if no event can happen to me or with me or in relation to me that is anything but related to the Nordics, the Rapture, or [check one Coming Attraction].

Now I admit, you've been right about a couple of things. [I'm tempted to downplay this, but that might be a teeny bit unjust, considering.] I admit that my point of view has changed a little from talking with you. But... I don't know that that's a good thing. I've been trying to keep an open mind about everything, not make any assumptions or judgements about what/ who/ when/ where/ why, to just take everything at face value because I don't want to stuff my experience into some predefined mold of belief. I don't feel I know enough to do that.

But all these damn stories about armageddon and the rapture and the Nordics and such have obviously begun filtering into my belief system and dang it makes me sooooo mad!

Like, I've been having this sequence of very specific dreams for many months now. They're spiritual not alien damn it, at least in general! They're important to me! They explain some of the symbols I've seen, for instance the four color sound beams, and they cover all sorts of things like the Ankh and the Tree of Life and more importantly, my own "higher self structure" (of at least four planes). I recognize them now (my "other selves"); they're well known to me (and vice versa) by now. So I'm near the end of another groovy trip of heavy symbolism and having a great time and the me next level up (the blonde guy, I've told you about him I think), looks at me intently, deeply into my eyes and says very seriously, "I AM NOSHAIMUS."

Now damn it, it was going fine until your symbolism showed up in my spiritual experience! Isn't that some Urantian thing? The only place I ever heard that term was from you, though he pronounced it differently.

And thanks to that, now I don't trust myself. I don't trust my own "spirituality." I don't trust that it's "valid." Now I feel like I have to distrust every experience because they're obviously being colored by external belief systems or influences on me. This makes me SO mad, because this stuff is important to me! I feel like I've tainted it with outer beliefs or something. So of course I blame you for this even though it's my own fault.

Anyway, I know this is all your reality and that, but I don't happen to want it to be mine. I want something more positive. I realize that "wishful thinking" is not necessarily a logical approach, but I've seen my belief systems alter my reality in a very literal manner. Maybe denial is just that. But I'd like to remain in denial for as long as possible, under the illusion that something different (or more positive or at least farther away) could be so.

[Letter to me, January, 1995]

Well PJ of course I interpret things in my own light. I have yet to find anyone who has traveled the same ground with me. Who should I consult? God isn't available.

Well he really summed it right up there, didn't he? He may seem more than slightly off center, but he has a way of succinctly putting things that leaves me lost for words.


I was intensely surprised -- upon awakening from the next dream -- to see a symbol that thus far had only occurred in the "bad, dread" dreams. It made me wonder if there was any connection. All this time I've assumed they were two different groups of entities or experiences, if they were "real." Maybe it was just psychology...

January, 1995

When I became lucid, I was sitting at a long console with screens, like computer screens, built into the console wall. I knew this was my work station. There was one in front of me, and a young woman sitting to the right of me. I was explaining a few things, including "how to translate" to her. First you type in what you want on the keyboard, which is very similar to a standard keyboard. Then you pressed this button on the monitor screen; there are numerous buttons, but the one to press for this communication (from English to another language, or to send it, or something) was the one marked by a black triangle. I felt I was there regularly, and had taught many people.

My mercenary and bottomless ambition for personal growth continued. It was as if my obsessive feelings had been turned toward consciousness expansion as a form of self-defense or survival... or perhaps it was just the only chance of my finding an explanation that would prove me "not crazy."

Letter, January, 1995

I've met the blondes plenty, I know they're real. But of my "other aspects of self," one is an angelic blonde, so that confuses me... is he one of them? Are they "bad guys?" Does that mean he's a "bad guy?" Which would mean I'm a "bad guy?" Of course, were this true, it would almost seem to agree with the idea that we are many species on different levels including those who may, at some point in the future, turn out to be "on opposite sides" from what we on this level would consider our best interests. I can only say that'll be an interesting integration process, ha!

But to be honest... does it matter? I want to evolve at the speed of light (no pun intended) -- I really don't care about anything else. I have moments, writing this is one, when I am so mercenary on that score it's amazing. I don't care about anything except my evolution. I am hard core Thelemic on this issue. I am concerned with the world, but if it comes down to a choice, it can go to hell in a handbasket if it has to compete with my personal evolution.

If so called "bad guys" are willing to provide me evolvement so they can do some study of the human race, fine. My agreement or refusal ain't gonna make one bit of difference. I'd be happier slaving in the parlor than dying for my pride anyway. I want to learn. They wanna use me, fine, just give me a Rorschach blot and a cup to pee in, ha! Really, I just want to evolve. I want it with the strength of a star and the desperate craving of the nutritionally deprived.

My absolute goal is to integrate with myself/god and nothing else is even a fraction as important, and nothing else will distract me. Some things seem to point a direction for learning, so I walk that way. Other things I wrote off as "interesting if one wants to invest the time," which I don't. Some folks are interesting, but their rigid ideas about "the way it is" that they force (with all the grace of Cinderella's sisters and the shoe) facts to fit in is insulting to a research oriented mind, offensive to my desire for no overbearing religion, and simply a waste of time, since crunching the facts to fit the slots is not going to do me any great service.

Considering the culture shock that many people I know have gone through after this stuff, including people who seemed quite rational beforehand, I've concluded that it's a good thing that the various entities are better at technology or whatever than we are. We'd pretend we were evolved, but give me a break. Our Marines would break down the doors of heaven because God was a Potential Threat To National Security. (Gee, it occurs to me, this may be more literal than I meant.) The good vs. evil, real vs. not-real, fanatic obsessive paranoid reaction in the UFO field in general is only an indicator that those old black/white polarities are still in full force, and religious persecution (from either angle, the victims or inquisitors) is as alive and well today as it was in the year 1200.

I don't care. I just want to learn.

Bewilderness is copyright © 1993 to present to Palyne "PJ" Gaenir ( See