PJ's Personal Archives

Letter Excerpt [617]

re: April, 1994

Climbing into bed I decided that since I wasn't tired, I'd read for awhile. I had a metal four poster canopy bed, which I'd just moved to my living room, hoping that might inspire me to sleep in it more often. I put the pillows behind me and sat against the headboard with the light just high enough to read. I think at that time I was attempting to wade through Sitchin, who has the unfortunate effect of putting me to sleep after two paragraphs, which is why I still haven't finished it. (It's not his fault: every time I read something, I all but pass out, and then have very intense "4D" dreams explaining the subject, whatever it may be.)

Suddenly a wave of "thick fuzzy" took me, which wasn't unusual. I put the book in my lap and closed my eyes and relaxed. Two entities showed up in my mind and told me that somebody was coming to talk to me. I didn't know why, but they indicated that I should show some respect and pay attention, because wherever the guy was from, he was very powerful and respected there. Like boy was I honored. But I was casual and flippant because, well you know, I didn't ask to talk to the guy.

So this male identity shows up without further fanfare and begins talking with me. I remember being impressed and thinking wow, they weren't kidding, this guy's a big deal... but I seemed to be thinking on more than one level, and I couldn't "hear" what he and I were talking about on some "deeper level." This went on for some time.

Then he paused and it seemed to be a chance for me to ask questions. This wasn't too long after the Northridge earthquake, and a weird experience following that, so I was reasonably concerned about quakes. So I asked him about quakes and earth changes and did I really have a say in my reality, how long till such a thing would occur, what did all this "impending doom" stuff really mean?

And into my head, probably more clearly than just about any experience I've ever had, came three numbers. They were so clear it was like they were spoken aloud, but it would have had to have been all around my head, outside as well as inside, it didn't come from any one direction. At the time, I knew that the numbers were given me simultaneously, that they had no order assigned them but my brain had to put them in a certain order to process them. The numbers: 617.

We talked for a bit more. I was, unfortunately, in a stage of conscious lucidity, which has always been more harm than help to me when I force it, because I get this sort of "dream logic" and often screw up constructive experiences by freaking out about things I don't understand. I wasn't sure what he meant, if the numbers were his way of communicating or what; I didn't know which question he was answering or how. Thinking of "when," I thought maybe he meant "days." It sunk in that this was less than two years. This upset me. I had plans for my life.

So I said WAIT! What, is this a prophecy?! I don't believe in prophecies. The future is fluid. My timeline could change, my reality or probability could change. Why would you make such a prediction? How dare you make me such a prediction and scare the crap out of me?! I don't want to be stuck in the middle of that disaster. And he responded, with a kind of weary and vaguely annoyed tone, such as when you like somebody but you're sure tired of them whining all the time, What are you worried about? You'll be gone anyway. It was like we'd already discussed it at length, and I of all people ought to know already.

The problem was, since most of this communication is "conceptual," it's much "fuller" than my word translation makes it. So when he said "gone," I felt it wasn't just "not in town that day." It was a "gone" so complete that I've never encountered a concept that "gone." The only thing I could compare it with (though this didn't feel right either), was maybe he meant I was going to die. So I thought, Well god, maybe it happens and it kills me. But then I thought, No, wait, this is BS -- I will not be dictated to by some astral entity. I refuse divination of ANY sort (so THERE, I thought!).

So then I was angry and decided that I wouldn't talk to the guy anymore. The numbers given me rang in my head as clearly as if they were somehow being consistently said, still. It wasn't the first time some entity had given me a number, or group of them, as an answer, and as always, it made me furious, because I didn't understand what they meant.

I thought, I've been meditating too much, I sound like an idiot. I refused to have anything more to do with any of it, so I refused to write the numbers down, planning to forget about the entire incident in defiance, and I turned off the light and went to sleep. Next morning I woke up and the numbers were still as clear in my head as when they were said. There's no possible way I could forget them.

That's an example of how a person can thoroughly screw up a perfectly good experience. I did this sort of thing regularly. Someone would be communicating with me, and because I was lucid, I would simply interpret things differently. Usually wrong, some kind of ridiculous dream logic. As a result I would frustrate the entity and misinterpret the experience as well.

If they gave me information that was linear, meaning I could put it into words, I would interpret it in one way, consciously, which is generally not the way it was communicated and not the way it was meant; I would assign the most ridiculous interpretations to it, and my reaction would either bring my state of mind nearer to regular consciousness, which made them unable to explain it to me further, or I would force myself to leave their presence.

But if they gave me deeper kinds of communication, their more complete kind, I would complain because I wanted to be able to consciously hear it, and understand it linearly. I wanted to be able to write it down, to test some of this for validity, to get an objective view on it, and when someone is communicating in geometries for example, no matter how precise the communication is, if it doesn't translate to English then it doesn't do me much good.

Unfortunately, it just didn't work. They were "there" with a certain conceptual framework and I was "here" with my own, and I was asking for something they weren't capable of because they weren't my type of entity. The problem seemed to be in my lap, as if I needed to learn to translate better. It annoyed me. Needless to say, I had the impression from time to time that some of them thought I was a real pain in the neck.


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