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Letter Excerpt [man of old]

A vision-dream, so strong it made me yearn for him/me, took me this afternoon when I took a nap. Thought I'd inflict it on you, I often tell you of the ones that involve any of the "four aspects of me."

He was gaining strength. We were in some kind of "Highlander" theme I guess, where people competed, got their heads chopped off, and the energy of their deaths was [eaten] by others. The blonde me was there, in the cloak type clothing I often see him in for one reason or another. He was the man. There were other men, competitive men.

I might have shifted in time; I was watching him stalk a certain man, whereupon he deliberately let his own head get cut off, though he took the other guy's at the same time. I noted that somehow his death had cut my left hand in a couple of places. Deeply, and it bled thick and dark like molasses, but I couldn't seem to feel it physically.

I thought, "Well that's that I guess, he's certainly dead now!" but someone said urgently, "No, that's just it! You don't understand! He is come back. This was his way of [throwing all enemies off the track] for so long...." and I suddenly understood what was meant: he had "folded up inside himself," as if he had hidden within the cavity of his rib bones (?!) and seen his body (including himself) buried deeply, on purpose, where nobody would know where he was. Knowing that when the time was right, he would unbury himself; that somehow he was not permanently dead but temporarily, deliberately so which for some reason was different, and that allowed him freedom.

The guide almost gave me the impression that he was a "bad guy" and yet simultaneously, a "good guy;" something like, there was only going to be one way for [someone/him] to deal with things at a certain point considered an "end time" or some such; it required that he be believed dead, so that things could develop as they would without the threat of his influence; as if they would hunt him down (again) for his power, do something that could take his autonomy away... so this way he could come back unexpectedly and defeat some conqueror or accomplish something... or some such thing that only he had the ability to do, him this man from "times of old". (And I mean really old, not centuries but millenia, thousands of years.)

But I was ambivalent, since somehow I knew that I was a big part of waking him up, I was his "anchor" specifically for this reality, physicality, and "time," and this guide made it sound like waking him up was my duty, I'd done it -- and it was like I was personally helping to bring on the end of my world as I knew it (like armageddon) or some such thing.


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