YOU ARE READY

Missive #9 - Dream Description (2 of 2)

[The other night I was sent a dream in which I was told to share with you two dreams from the past year in ‘re-verse’ order — one from three months ago, and then one from twelve. And so I offered first the March dream (Missive #8: {Dream} TREASURE WORLD, June 13), and now I offer the dream from one year ago.]
[[A brief second note on my practice of dream description: in line with my first note re: not modifying unconscious language alterations, I also have a practice of noting “autocorrections” when making my description by phone (which I do in the event of not having paper/pen handy). You will find these in parentheses immediately following certain words, with italicized ‘ac’ followed by the word or words that were auto-injected by the Ghost-in-the-Machine. What especially intrigues me about many of these replacements by the Tech-AItheric-Deva is that often a completely novel (‘made-up’) word is provided as substitute in place of my originally quite ordinary one (see: my ‘exponentiates’ → ac ‘expontentiates’), or else a rhyming word may be swapped in when the original is spelled ‘correctly’ in my describing (see: my ‘latched’ → ac ‘patched’). These autocorrections have always held treasure for me, so I keep and cherish them. They too come from a kind of Voice-from-the-Depthheights, and are deeply interconnected with a localized collective unconscious. … One of my dearest of kin labeled the following dream “a treasure map” — and indeed it gave me a rich set of steps to follow in my own inner life. I have revisited it many times when I’ve needed a reminder on the order of things~]]

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I am in the real world. I go to the dentist and am in a nice room with a bed and many metal tools. I begin to receive a surgery, which implants a microscopic thread through my tooth and gums. I leave to attend an annual party of dentists and dental technicians which I had been attending since birth, for 30 years. I am a very welcome guest. I hug many women who have been my dental technicians for many years. I tell a story about how I have been coming here for 30 years; many people listen and cry in remembrance and happiness. There is some essence of sadness. I realize suddenly that my surgery was not complete and know I must try to head back to the operating room. I hurry out of the room, down the hallway, up the stairs towards the original operating room. On the way I hear a voice and the building crumbles. I am in the real world, I am carrying a fire. There is industry all around me, I am in a kind of city, it is dark. I am flying through the air. I come to a giant factory building and inspect it closely. My fire accidentally lights the building on fire. I am able to extinguish the right side, but the left side's fire only retreats deeper into the building as I blow on it. I become worried. I enter the building as a worker and begin to look for the fire. I try to warn the owners of the factory. The owner is an elderly man, a Freemason or knights Templar, who carries around a sheathed runed sword. His adopted child and second wife move around with him. The child hopes to inherit the father's wealth through the factory. The owner decides to keep the fire a secret as long as possible. Many workers are sleeping inside, unaware of what is happening. I am moving around the building quietly, no longer visibly carrying a fire. I am on a quest to locate the fire inside the factory that I caused. I can not find it. There are others who find the fire first. It is raging out of control, like the Titanic destined for doom. There is a friend with me, a coworker, who also sensed something was wrong. We come to a door and open it by turning a wheel many times to unlock it. Inside is a catwalk section. We begin to hear the crescendo of spirits murmuring and fire erupts from the floor along the far side, bending up the catwalk floor and approaching toward us in exploding heat and light. We turn around and run as the exploding fire follows us through the building. We reach the threshold between the left/west side of the factory and the right/east. The owner is waiting with his sword, adopted child, and second wife. They are begging him to save the factory. Instead, he closes his eyes, looks to the heavens, and says "It is the will of God". He lifts the sword and becomes an angel, ascending (autocorrect ‘as ending’) through the steel iron rafters. I and my friend look up and hear a voice very clearly. We blink in disbelief. It speaks again loudly, in the voice of Tom Cruise, in our minds and also outside of us, from above. "I don't have time. I must tell you my real name so that you may come with us to the next level." My companion and I looked up and nodded, ready and willing. "My name is Unus Novus." My companion and I ascended. One Nine. We think, "Why is the voice of this being Tom Cruise? Is Scientology "True?"" Scientology, Free Masonry, and Knights Templar become combined into one Meta/Uber faith. 

I am now in a higher level of reality. It has an apocalyptic, dystopian appearance. Gravity is not applying in the same way. There are shattered remnants of buildings floating everywhere. Monuments to ancient unknown gods, temples, giant carved marble columns, skyscrapers, palaces, banks, cottages, mausoleums, passage tombs, pyramids, fragments of roads to nowhere, and more. I am in my trusty car. We are on a rough road and driving as the surroundings continue to crumble around us, fragments crashing and disintegrating into eachother in almost slow motion. I am driving fast, moving into higher and higher gears. 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, and ultimately 7th. We drive around corners, looking for something. A way out? Through? Then the ground gives out under the back tires of the car and it can no longer move forward. It tells me to get out and go ahead on foot. I don't want to leave the car. I get out and turn around, crying. The spirit of the car comes out of it with the face of deep gratitude, and speaks, "You gave me the opportunity to come with you here, to the 6th dimension, to the 7th even. I am happy. Now go." I turn and take a step, and am now on a train, in a small room with two benches facing eachother, a window to my left with countryside racing rumbling by, a glass door to a hallway to my right. My companion is seated to my right. Across from me are two people, worn down, a bit tattered. One carries a black spear, like wrought iron or obsidian, jagged and old. The person to the right of her (to her left) is a quiet man, unassuming. I do not pay much attention to him. I blink and am a woman, descending into a glowing place, my wife in gray suit awaiting me gleefully in our pristine white marble palace, pulsing silver and gold veins throughout. We embrace and I am back on the train, blinking. The woman across from me is talking. "You have gotten this far. What did you bring with you?" I take out a single quartz crystal (the apple tree nodal crystal) and hold it up. Her eyes widen and she responds "How lucky you are to bring a clear/white quartz! This means you will bring joy through to the next world." I smile and say "You should hold it!" with a gleeful and ominous tone, excited and dramatic. I slowly raise the crystal and begin to pass it over, in an arc, so that it may descend gradually into their hands. Their eyes are latched (ac ‘patched’) onto the crystal and as I move it up along the arc towards them, it grows heavier and more powerful. It is the most powerful initiation crystal in the world. As I lower it towards their hands, its power and significance exponentiates (ac ‘expontentiates’) until the sensation takes over the entire room in the train. The crystal lands in all four of our hands and we are transported to a barren, epic land. The sky is cracked open with blackness and lightness in stark contrast, clouds the size of civilizations and gods, flowing into and out of eachother in impossible ways and smoothness. A large, invisible, cloaked, radiant glowing figure descends towards us. Their cloak is bright glowing luminous; their face and body pitch black. A voice resonates booms out and shakes the foundation of this world's reality. "You Are Ready." 

[I immediately wake in my bed and am instructed by a similar-sounding voice to record the dream]

~ Saturday, June 4, 2022 (Eve of Shavuot, Pentecost) | waking around 12pm

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The Tower of Babel (late 16th century), Hans Bol

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