3. Death is Not the End

Weathered Foundation –

Age: 17

The land was barren and in ruin. An overcast sky lay over the desert horizon, giving all the earth a washed out look. Out in the distance I could hear vicious wild creatures and I knew it wasn’t safe to stay here. Ahead I saw my destination, an abandoned structure and sorry excuse for a building.  It had decaying boards and rotten floors but somehow still maintained an old white paint job that was only chipping off in a few parts.  No one would think anyone lived here.

I was reminded of the danger that lurked about and made my way forward.  The first floor had been a victim of a landslide and probably housed the same deadly animals that I was trying to avoid. I found a plank leading up to the second story.  Right before reaching the top a hand extended in front of my face.  It was my father, as I saw him last, weathered from years of outdoor living and drug abuse, salt & pepper hair that was once black but still grew long and maintained its buoyant curls.  He had it tied back to show his smiling face.  The little wrinkles that I loved so much as a child stretched all across his face now.

“You’re here!” he said in that classic voice that warbled just a little on the vowels.  I took his hand and he pulled me up.  I didn’t hug him but we stood and smiled at each other and knew we were both happy to see the other. I had forgiven him for leaving but still couldn’t bring myself to let him completely off the hook.  No hugs yet.

I came here to live.  I had lived with the other members of my family individually and now it was time for me to get over any grudges and live with my dad. And I was ok with this.  He put his hands in his pockets and began to give me a tour of sorts. I smiled and nodded and looked about at the different levels he had built, most unfinished. It all had that nostalgic feeling of a construction site.

My sisters showed up and were arguing about the situation.  I wasn’t sure about the details.  I didn’t want to hear it and I woke up.

Pre-Dream Visuals and the Control of –

Age: 18- present

In the half conscious state one gets in before drifting off to complete dreams, strange and uncontrollable visuals become present.  I started to become more aware of this state and decided one night to attempt to manipulate them in the same way I would in my waking or REM state.

It starts with a random scene or image popping into my head, after seemingly coherent thinking.  I then start to change the scene, one move at a time, which then sends the rest of the image into a state of ever changing, spiraling surrealism every half second into something else completely bizarre and unnatural.

It is the most difficult thing I have and will ever try to describe.  It moves so fast that I could never describe a solid image. And what one thing can turn to next is so strange and detailed that it is almost like a million dreams mashed into one tiny space, spilling out over the edges.

It eventually becomes seemingly uncontrollable, with the visuals changing on their own, or at least changing so fast that I cannot even tell that I am doing it anymore.  Rivers are pulled out of noses, shapes are combined to become creatures I have never seen or thought of, inanimate objects are drilled into sporadic splatters of color and my mind keeps rambling as if it’s gone completely insane

First Arial Passenger –

Age: 19

I was with a small group of strangers and we were escaping some kind of peril.  An explosion had sent my peers soaring through the air and into the vast ocean.  I took flight as the rest of the group struggled to remain above the waters surface.  One was a female I cared about more than the rest.

My instinct kicked in and I dove down to the girl, her arms flailing and her mouth gasping for air.  Without thinking if it was possible, I scooped her up and took off.  She clutched my body and nuzzled her head safely in my chest.  I felt the wind whip past my face and was confident with her in my arms.  I had never carried anyone with me through flight and it felt good.

A Similar Dream – 

Age: 19 (Documented via blog on 12/6/2006)

I had this one just last night.  It was very similar to Daniel’s (my best friend) but with a few very realistic additions.  In past dreams, Tegan has been dead and talking to me.  I had not yet been teased with Tegan still alive in my dreams.  But this one got me, it was way too real.

Daniel and his sister, Cara were at my apartment.  My mom was there too (she’s been planning on coming to CA to visit, so there was reason to her presence) We were talking and laughing to our normal level when someone announced a surprise for us three.  I don’t remember who because the surprise was so great it completely made me forget who was even there.

It was Tegan of course. She walked out from the back of the house.  We heard her laugh first.  That “huh huh huh” laugh that she would make, the one that kind of sounds like Patrick Star from Spongebob.   The kind of laugh that said, “I know you can’t believe it but it’s true.”  She walked out but she was crippled.  Her legs were weak and she couldn’t see.  You could only see the whites of her eyes.  But the fact was..we could see her eyes.  Her beautiful blind eyes.  She was there.  Really there.  And it all made sense.  None of us asked questions.  We understood she was taken for dead, and almost was dead but had gone through intense physical therapy to regain.  This was the way she was going to be forever, but it didn’t matter.  She could have been blind, deaf, dumb and limbless and she would still be just as beautiful and we wouldn’t care because we had her back.

We ran to her, tackled her and hugged and kissed her.  I cried immediately, Cara screamed out of joy and Daniel just hugged.  The love was so intense.  So much stronger than it was with anyone of us one on one.  It was the kind of love that only these four people could share.  The kind of love that had had a big hole taken out and had suffered so badly, but now that hole had been filled again.  There was talk going on but I couldn’t hear any of it.  I couldn’t take my eyes off her.  I would be fine for about a minute then I would randomly break into tears because she was here!  She was alive!

We started to walk out to the car.  I felt like I was floating, I was so happy.  She felt the back of the car and made her way around to the door.  It was time to celebrate.  I told her I could have her meet the people who helped me during the time we thought she was dead, and that now she could actually see the paintings I did of her.  We drove away and I started to cry again, just so incredibly happy.

But I woke up.

And she was dead.

And I remembered she was cremated.  And there is no hidden hospital she’s recovering in. There’s no elaborate conspiracy hiding her death like some celebrity.  But it was so believable to me, or more like I made it believable.  My dreams are extremely vivid, and in this case, I really wish it hadn’t been.   But it’s understandable that my mind would do this.

This simple comment I was told did help me though.. She is alive. In me,

and in those that truly knew and loved her.

R.I.P. Tegan

Death and Beyond –

Age: 20

The car was plummeting over the mountain side, heading straight for the ocean’s cutting surface.  I, of the four, was the only one not screaming in terror.  This routine was nothing new, only obnoxious and usual.  I sat in the back right and watched the scenery around me change, all in slow-motion of the moment.  I noticed everything. The car was a burgundy and the soft interior, a light tan.  The windows were tinted.

We finally reached the water’s edge with a crash.  The ocean sprayed up against the windows and all went white.  When my eyes opened again, the car was back to a horizontal position.  Only we were sitting chest deep in water.  I couldn’t see out the windows very well but I felt like we weren’t very far from the surface or land.  My friends were crazily yanking the door handles and banging on the windows and just screaming.  There was nothing we could do.  I stayed quiet.  The sound started to fade out.  I saw their mouths move and their faces twist into looks of despair but I heard nothing.  As the water reached our necks my body began to feel numb.

One by one my friends curled up and let the water fill their lungs.  Within seconds of their mental surrender, their bodies collapsed, some coiled up and hardened.  One lost weight, floated to the top and drifted to the corner, others gained, and sank to the bottom.  I sat apathetically and watched.  With my chin straight up I glanced over at the remaining survivor.  I didn’t even really know her.  She looked over at me with lost eyes and a round innocent face. Slowly she submerged and disappeared under the surface.  I knew it was over yet I still backed up and crammed myself into the very back of the car, above the seats, where there was somehow a tiny pocket of air.  I lay alone and felt the soft line of the water on my skin slowly rise.  Interestingly, this was similar to the feeling I psychosomatic-ally induce sometimes to help me sleep.  And I felt sleepy, as it rose to my nose and eyes.

Without a definite feeling of transformation, my gaze suddenly left my body.  I saw myself curled up by the back window of the car.  I was right. We were at the surface and only about ten feet away from land.  I continued to float backwards, towards the sky, without any control otherwise.  I saw an ambulance drive and pull up to the water’s edge. Sound was still nonexistent but I saw the lights flashing and the men yelling to pull the car out.  I rose higher and higher and the little scene on the beach got smaller and smaller.  There was no saving me.  I was dead.  But I felt bliss.  And I woke up.

Fish Tank –

Age: (Dream element occurred within the ages of about 15 to 21)

At times I would come across various aquatic creatures hidden in random streams of water, in the murky tides, lurking in ponds and in the very black depths of the ocean.   Sometimes they were grotesque but always in that beautiful, dark trench-inhabiting kind of way and always completely unique in species.  When I found them, I took them, because I had discovered something new.

The slug, I remember was particularly foul but I grabbed it anyway and plopped it right where I always did, in my fish tank.  It was an average tank, medium sized but it was home to many of my sea creature discoveries.  Sometimes it would show up immediately after I found one.  Sometimes I would have the creature on me for quite a while until I found my fish tank. And I would drop it in with the rest from my previous dreams.

The first one I found, I don’t remember where, was some kind of fish with dark long scales and sharp teeth.  I picked it up because it looked special and I happened to be around a fish tank so I dropped it in with all the other fish.  The new fish immediately ate every one of the lesser evolved fish.  After that, the fish tank was mine.  Whenever I found a new one I would see the other creatures from past, and with each one the tank got murkier and slimier.  I would never clean it.  That was the environment these creatures wanted.

Sometimes I would notice a creature gone from the mix.  It must have been eaten, I thought, but I was never heartbroken.  The most predatory creature I happened to find was the eel.  He looked pretty gnarly when I found him but was so unique that I knew he was special and worthy of capture.  In he went with the rest and I never thought twice.  It wasn’t until the last creature I found, some kind of squid, that I looked in and noticed that only the eel’s head came poking out from his mini cave fortress.  He had wiped out the tank and was waiting for his next kill.  I dropped the squid in anyway and after that I never saw the tank or any of my sea creatures again.

Member Fluctuation – 

Age: (Started when I was 20 or 21 and persisted until 24.)

In dreams I was getting an increasingly large amount of women rejecting me.  When I first became really sexually active in my dreams, I had no problem getting girls.  Any girl I came across was willing to let me touch them, kiss them, rip their clothes off, anything I wanted, and they were down.  Often a bit shy at first but in general, up for anything.  Then they started to withdraw from my approach.  I was all of a sudden an undesirable creep to them all. Even mental manipulation was proving difficult to alter these girl’s viewpoints. It was like conservatism occupied my dreams for a short time.

The first time I noticed genital change I was atop some random girl that I had managed to seduce.  I had one arm around her waste and another on her shoulder.  I was grinding my pelvis against hers and noticed a different feeling down below.  I felt an external pleasure, similar to that of clitoral stimulation but over a broader area.  I felt skin envelope most of the area of pleasure, but not enough for satisfaction.  I looked down and saw a member coming out of my pelvic area.  The shock of that sight jerked my head up.  I was slightly disturbed but I wanted to investigate.  The girl moaned out of frustration for more.  I looked down and she grabbed the stub that was emerging.  I grabbed her waste and tried to emulate a man.  Fumbling like an inexperienced teenage boy, I couldn’t manage to get it in all the way. I could enter her but with only what felt like the tip of my new member.  She was giving me angry faces and asking for more.  So this is what it feels like, I thought.

Reward came soon enough after several re-occurrences of my transsexualism   Once again, I was on top.  Different girl, of course, it always was.  This particular girl was one that had not readily accepted my advances as a girl.  She had given me dirty looks and tried to push me away but I was persistent and semi forceful until she decided to give it a try.  She had a constant look on her face that told me, this isn’t satisfying. So out of MY frustration, I pushed her back and pulled out my huge dick.  Her eyes lit up and she fell immediately to her knees.  “So this is what it takes to get you,” I thought.  I lifted her up against the wall and kept going.  But once again, I couldn’t get the pleasure to reach all of my sensitive parts.  Now I was too big to fit all the way in.  All I wanted was to feel exactly what men felt.

Sometimes with women, my level of flaccidity would fluctuate depending on their attitude.  If a girl was into it right away, or at least didn’t shy away from my touch, I could maintain.  But if she tried to verbally bring me down or physically showed that she doubted my stamina, I would go limp and there was nothing I could do to fix it.  The girl would scoff and roll her eyes.  At that point, I usually walked away or woke up from frustration.

Sometimes I knew I was male.  Sometimes I would switch genders or just members, depending on how necessary it was.  And sometimes I think I was nothing, just an entity that had the ability to grow various genitals.

Flight in Lucid Dreaming – 

Age: 22 (Documented via blog on 1/16/2009)

Flight has become so effortless. I remember the first time I found a technique to take off.  I kicked off a stump outside someone’s house and floated just about 4 or 5 feet.  I toiled with that for a while until I was finally able to take flight.  I flew over a grassy field.  There was nothing else but hills, trees and bright green grass.  I told my 2nd grade peers the next day at school about how awesome it felt.  I can now take off with out any leverage. Within the last couple months I’ve been able to shoot straight in the air, sometimes without having to bend my legs at all.  Taking off above the trees and over water is simple.  I’ve even gone so high as to breach Earth’s atmosphere.  The sky went from blue to black and I looked side to side to see the vast depths of space.  It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  This was motivation to focus on perfecting flight.  (I have not yet been able to fly that far, but hopefully with more practice.)

Not too long ago I encountered another being. I’m positive it was someone or something that had tapped into its own self conscious, whether they were dreaming or not, our paths somehow crossed. I was escaping someone, as usual, and quite successfully.  I jumped from the bottom story of a hall of some kind to the second story with ease.  I kicked off a balcony and took flight, taking a big swing downward and out the open main entrance door.  The climate seemed temperate but the trees didn’t match.  Gravity took it’s hold as it does when I’m so close to the ground and I floated downwards till my feet touched the floor.  I bent my legs slightly and shot up into the air towards the tree tops.  Suddenly I caught a flash of something pass me by. I slowed my pace and turned around mid air to see another figure in flight and beginning to land.  I floated down again.  We stood a distance from each other and stared.  It appeared to be a young, male Indian wearing a white tunic and head wrap.  (I could very well appear as a male myself as I often take on that roll when the occasion calls for it)  He looked at me and kicked off the side of a tree, jumping about 25-30 feet.  I stood still and without moving my body I shot upwards, past the trees and just below the clouds.  Clearly I had won.  I didn’t see him after that.  I realized that being had not yet learned what I had recently discovered.  He still needed leverage in order to take flight, while I have been focusing energy away from developing the control of women’s breast size, to the control of effortless flight.

I’ve thought through several scenarios with this other being.  Is this just someone else dreaming and striving for subconscious flight?  Is that the guide in Alisa’s 4th grade dream? (A dream that involved pyramids, a guide who looked exactly like this, or so she described to me, and a beautiful woman with a masked face) Or is this a reflection of myself from a previous level and time?  I do often revisit the same places and I do take on that male roll.  Either way, I would love to encounter and share my dreams with others that can expand and drop all boundaries on their minds.

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One thought on “3. Death is Not the End

  1. Had to stop reading here in order to digest u know food for thought… I got into a strange mood and it felt like i was going into ur head like being Jon Malkovich. My friends mention what would it look like if you could connect minds and see each others dreams theyre not writers. This is so good im going to read up today im pacing myself its so deep reading not like any other blog almost its own experience

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