Happy Holidays!!!


Once again, the holidays are upon us.  I must say…two posts a year from someone like me is akin to the death knell of a once-busy weblog.  It’s mostly because I don’t have anything interesting to say; therefore, I do not want to waste your precious reading time with blather.

Laying low and allowing the events to transpire around me is enough for this Taobabe.  I was given many opportunities to become part of the teams of people who are working diligently to awaken humanity, and I chickened out at the last minute on all of those opportunities.  I am not yet at the stage (emotionally and mentally) where I can lead and guide, beyond what I have been doing thus far.

Having said this, I must state for the record that life has been busy for me lately, as I go through the different iterations of my winding path through life.  It has never been a straight and narrow path. Those paths are quite often violent and unyielding, as they cut their straight and narrow way through granite mountains and dig under watercourses and swamps.  These straight as-the-crow-flies paths are well-suited only to the most strict and stringent of travelers who will allow nothing to obstruct their onward march towards their meticulously planned destination.

My path—LOL—my path is wide and winding, following the course of least resistance, and quite often, most scenic of routes.  Sometimes, even I do not know why I do the things I do.  I follow that instinct within, and explore with reckless abandon, those things that I am curious about.  Sometimes, it leads me into gullies, and sometimes, it leads me into valleys, but it always leads me somewhere interesting.  My main job, after all, is to feed the most interesting experiences back to the Universe.

Towards this goal, I say:  May your life be interesting, and may all your endeavors produce a bumper crop of experiences that you can look back at and smile with fondness.


Me and Sarafina

unnamedIt’s been awhile since I  have posted anything, and I do apologize for that, but the stream of time rushes onward, from a humble trickle that began gouging through the bedrock of spacetime, increasing into an ever widening torrent until so much has passed that I do not know where to pick up next.

So here I am, posting a selfie with my little dog who just turned five.  Summer is well and truly here but we are cool and comfy inside the house.  It is so hot outside, a sign that the world is changing, and changing quickly.  So many unusual things happening that after awhile, it seems to be the norm for unusual things to happen.  When the oddity becomes common place, then the normal becomes strange.

Have an unusual and strange normal weekend everyone.



School Kinda Sucks 6: Dream within a Dream


(Continued from School Kinda Sucks 5:  Pauper Prince)

There was no cue or indication of what was happening, or about to happen.  I simply found myself in a dark place.

It wasn’t dark because there was no hope and no comfort.  It was dark because it was night time.  I was not afraid in the least.  My uncle was there with me, and we were going on an adventure.  It was an exciting adventure because it was a secret.

No one was to know about our adventure, not even my parents.  And what little kid could resist going on a magical adventure, in the middle of the night, with his beloved uncle as guide?

We walked for awhile and we entered a city park.  The lamp posts glowed a mystical blue-white hue, casting its magic on everything, and everything glowed with a strange iridescence befitting the witching hour.

He led me to the park bench, and I ran about, playing in the grass, happy and comforted in the knowledge that I was safe there with him.  He let me play for awhile, and then he bade me to come to him.

I ran towards my uncle, laughing all the while, expecting more surprises.

nightparkbenchHe gave me a surprise alright.

He pulled me to him and started fondling my penis, stroking me in ways that made me sick to my stomach, yet craving for more of the touch.  I was horrified and reviled, but excited at the same time.  How could this be?  What was happening to me?

In my mind, I cast about, wondering how in the world could I possibly have a penis?  I am female, and have always been.  Did my parents lie to me all this time?  How could they have raised me as a girl and never once told me that I was a boy?


I suddenly remembered all those times, as a very young child, I played and bathed with my two sisters who were only a year a part from me, in either direction.

I was certainly a girl then.

There was no clothing which shielded me and my sisters from each other, and we all looked the same.  How in the world did I grow a penis all of a sudden?  And how did my parents manage to hide this from me?

As my confusion regarding my gender identity flashed through my mind, I could hear my uncle groaning and grunting.  It was horrifying.  He was sticky and he rubbed his stickiness onto me.  I pushed him away, trying to escape.  He clutched at me as the last of his grunts died away.

Once he was done, I was allowed to leave his side.

Then I woke up.


Oh thank heavens.  It was just a dream.  I’m not a boy.  I didn’t get molested.

But then throughout the day, I kept thinking about the dream.  It was strange, to say the least.  I had never had dreams of being a boy before, and certainly, nothing had ever triggered something this horrifying.

It was way beyond empathy.  I was not simply imagining how it felt to be him, or feeling his emotions vicariously.



There is no denying the fact that if we all could feel exactly how another person feels due to the fact that WE WERE THAT OTHER PERSON, even if only for a tiny fraction of time, we would know what to do.  We would know how to interact, how to treat that other person, because in essence, and in reality, we would be interacting with ourselves.

Yes, I have heard often before, from ancient scriptures of every kind, that we are all One, or in the more modernized new-age-y fashion: we are all just fractalized individuations of God.

I understood this in a very cerebral manner, and in my lofty know-it-all fake wisdom, I prattled platitudes of such similar strains, but I honestly did not truly know what it felt like to be another person.  There is a reason for that.

girlBWIn this density (of the third kind), we have been isolated within our own minds, unable to reach out to others without having to go through that clunky troglodyte method of communication via spoken/written words or physical gestures.

And even then…we are allowed subterfuge, play-acting, and downright lying to mask what we truly feel, because, heavens forbid–if another human being could actually read our thoughts and feel our emotions…they would—why, they would expose us for the hypocrites that we were, and they would reject us, make fun of us, take advantage of our weaknesses because they would now know what those weaknesses truly were.

Within our isolation chamber, all we can manage to do is to talk to ourselves, without any external feedback other than what our distracted, demoralized ego can muster up.  Then, after having talked to ourselves round and round in ever tighter circles, we make our decisions in the manner of one part altruism and three parts self-preservation.

And that’s what benevolent, genuinely kind people do!

Everyone else doesn’t even think that much.


They just go about their daily lives, ensconced within their isolation chambers, thinking their individual thoughts, not realizing those thoughts are not so much individual as they are individuated.

And now I understand why some people get that distant look in their eyes when I talk to them.  It could be a plethora of things, but usually, when it comes to interpersonal communications with others, it often means they are wary, and wondering if forging new connections with another human being would cause them further betrayal and hurt, as they had been hurt in the past.


Suddenly, I understood pauper prince, and the lesson that was unfolding at this new school.

For a brief time, I was him, and I now knew why he tried to escape his home, why his family distanced themselves from him, and why they disinherited him.

The pauper prince could, at one fell swoop, knock his family off their power tower with the exposure of his experience at the hands of the absolute, autocratic uncle who held the position of sovereignty of the land.  Who would dare go up against a monarch?


I now understood why he had that distant look in his eyes when we talked.  What to do now that I understood–I wasn’t so sure.

This new density cannot be mastered with just the comprehension and manipulation of formulas and equations.  Third density requires love without the understanding of why and how.  This new density requires love, despite the provisional understanding of why.  The how is more difficult to achieve in this case because we have been provided with more information.

And don’t think that more info means less difficulty.  In most cases, the more we know about a situation, the more difficult the solutions become due to the narrowing down of obvious choices.
girl3a-e1490563407468.jpgWe must then think outside the box and come up with new ideas to tackle what once was a simpler understanding of the world around us.

As our eyes become more developed due to our growth, our vision of the world will transmute from the few basic primary colors to many more shades of those primary colors, emerging for the first time, due to our better ocular and mental faculties.

We now see that those primary colors are just subsets of other shades of (not just greys) but a rainbow of other colors, all affect by more (or less) light.

We also come to the realization that the juxtaposition of certain colors will make other colors seem different, and that some of those differences are truly illusions while others are true to their nature.

I would say more, but I am now barely grasping this truth, in the light of the stale cold morning.

However, I do know this.

It is not enough to grasp the mechanical, scientific truths of the Universe.  We must also grasp the truths of our consciousness and its inter-connectivity to everything and everyone, inter-universally as well as inter-dimensionally.

That is how we must approach fourth density, because it is coming.


School Kinda Sucks 5: Pauper Prince


(Continued from School Kinda Sucks 4:  Game of Life)

The next night, my dream continues, as it is wont to happen, on the occasion.  As of late, my dreams run into each other, like oddly mismatched but related scenes of a strange movie.

I run into the delinquent pauper prince again.  This time, he shows up outside, on the mini basketball court near the vegetable patch.  Because he is familiar with street fighting, not to mention the fact that he also possesses some amazing martial arts skills, the guy easily beats out the kids on the court.  Then, as befitting a true introvert, he refuses to join in on the regularly scheduled games each evening, out on the real court by the gym.

I somehow find myself by his side as he sits on a bench watching the other kids play.

“You’re good,” I said, by way of greeting.

He shrugged and said nothing.

“Is this your favorite thing to do?”  I tried again.

“Nope.”  He answered.


Great.  He’s one of THOSE one-word warriors.  This was going to be either long and drawn out, or short and sweet, depending on my level of tolerance.

“What else do  you like to do?”  One more try.

“I dunno.  I do a little drumming sometimes,” he said, looking at something in the distance.

Now we were getting somewhere.

“Drumming?  As in marching band?  Or as in rock band?”


I smiled.  “Cool!  Me too.  I’m a singer.”

He gazed at me askance with the same expression that I’ve seen when someone thinks I’m equating a karaoke singer with a real front line singer or entertainer.

“No, really,” I said with earnestness.  “I sang with a band for several years.  In fact, there’s going to be an audition later that I’m going to try out for.  Wanna come and audition too?  I know they’re also looking for a drummer.”

girl12“No.”  He said too quickly.

“Why not?  You don’t think you’re good enough?”

“Didn’t say that.  I just don’t want to, okay?”

“Fine.”  I said, feigning disinterest.  “They are pretty good, and they really only want you if you’re half-way decent any way.”

He scowled, not saying anything.  That familiar distant look returning to his eyes.  I sighed inwardly.  Why do I have to be the one to try and work with this stick-in-the-mud?

“Well, it will be later this evening, right here at the basketball court.  Come if you wish.”

And I left him to his own devices.

Fast forward to the evening, and there I was, chatting with the lead guitarist to find out when I was up for the audition.  He hands me a slip of paper with handwritten notes, and I find my name, half-way down the list.  I would be performing two songs, both of which were familiar standards that I normally used for auditions.  No biggie.

I was running the songs through my head when the guitarist tapped me on the shoulder.


“Come over this way,” the guitarist indicated to me.  “Take a look over there,” he pointed to a group of guys sitting around the speakers.

I smirked.  There, in the midst of the chattering group of musicians was the pauper prince.  He was the only guy in the group who did not say a word, yet looked as if he fit in, misfits as they all were any way.


“Yeah, and?”

“He said he’s with you, so this audition is basically just a formality.”

“Why?”  I raised my eyebrows.

“If we’re getting you and him, then you’re both in, no further questions.  He auditioned earlier and he’s awesome on the drums.  He says you’re a pro at vocals.  If he’s that good and he’s endorsed you, then you gotta be amazing!”

I turned away, not knowing what to say.

I hadn’t even auditioned yet, and just like that, I’d been accepted as a condition of someone else getting in.  This wasn’t how I had envisioned the night would go down.

I mentally kicked myself for having forgotten one thing very important.  This pauper prince may be a delinquent thug, but he was street smart, which meant he could always figure out a way to get what he wanted, by hook or by crook.

“I change my mind,” I said, turning away from the guitarist.  “I don’t think I’ll be auditioning for vocals after all.”

guitarist2“Why not?  We need you!”  He insisted.

“You’ve got all these other singers auditioning.  Pick one from the list.”  I said halfheartedly, shoving the piece of paper back at him.

“Come on.  He won’t join us without you.”

“So I’m allowed to join only because you want him.  What does that make me?  A side-kick?”

“It makes you our lead singer and also someone who can influence a person who really needs a second chance at life.  You know his background and what he’s been through.”

“I don’t know him that well.  And any way, I’m pretty sure you guys can convince him to be your drummer without me having to be a part of all this.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” the guitarist sighed.  “I know his type.  He won’t join without you because he’s leaning on you for strength.  He can’t do this without you.  Please.  You’d be doing us both a favor.”

Well, since he put it that way, I couldn’t very well refuse, now could I?


School Kinda Sucks…The Game of Life


So we landed, in a place that looked just about as futuristic as you can imagine.  There were air ships coming and going, and people walking around with things levitated around them.

Since I didn’t know how to levitate stuff yet, I had to carry my things on my back, like a pack mule.  I didn’t feel particularly out of place since most of the students queuing around me also didn’t have a clue how to levitate stuff, and were, for the most part, looking just as lost and confused as I was feeling.


The dorm room I was given was a tiny little thing, but it was cozy and comfortable.  I looked around, made sure I knew which door was mine, and then I walked over to the head master’s office, since I had been given the directive to meet up with him as soon as I landed.

The headmaster’s office is large and filled with all sorts of things.  I wandered around, looking at his things and trying to make heads or tails out of whatever it was I was looking at.  Some objects were just outright strange in that ancient dusty fashion, while others looked seriously complicated in an extremely high tech manner.  The odds and ends were colorful and jumbled, as if a careless collector had just upended a huge bag filled with gadgets from across the universe.


As I looked at the things, more formulas and mathematical equations sprang forth from them and downloaded into my mind via my eyes.  It would seem then, that those equations were what would be needed to use those gadgets to do whatever it is the gadgets did.

“Ah.  Glad to see you made it safe and sound,” a voice greeted me amongst the jumble of colorful strange things.

It was an older man, dressed in the richly appointed robes that, presumably, would be what the headmaster of the school wore.  He seemed nice enough, but he had a strange knowing glint in his eyes as he stared at me.  His lips twisted with an odd smile, which led me to wonder if there was something about me that was not quite right.

Now, before you even have to ask, I will state for the record that this man was definitely NOT Old Dude, whose eyes I could always spot, no matter which physical body he took on.  My new headmaster, was a completely different entity.

He led me over to his office and pointed to the chair across from his desk, and we proceeded to have a long chat about all sorts of stuff–random stuff which I don’t quite recall in the waking state.


I do remember that we talked for a long time.  He asked me all sorts of questions, and I answered as best as I could.  Then he left the room and I found myself just sitting there with nothing to do.

As I continued to await his return, my eyes were drawn to a board game he had, splayed across the front of his desk.  It was so large that it took up most of the desk space.  Feeling a little bored, and without much thought, I started moving trees and houses around in haphazard fashion when a woman ran into the room.

“Don’t touch any of that stuff!”  She yelled out.  “The Headmaster does not allow anyone to touch that board!”

I withdrew my guilty hands, feeling remorse.  I really knew better than to touch other people’s things without permission, but in my dream state, especially lucid ones, I sometimes think I’m just making it all up and I can do whatever I please.

“I’m sorry.”  I whispered.

She stared at me for a moment, and then sighed with something akin frustrated resignation.  “You are the only one that could get away with this.  He doesn’t allow anyone in this room, let alone touch his stuff.  Nobody even dares to poke their head in here, and yet, he leaves you alone in this room!”  She continued berating me.


“I can’t believe you have the nerve to start moving trees and buildings around, and all he does is laugh and shake his head!”  

I stared at her in confusion as she pointed to the open window.  Following the direction of her finger, I gasped as I saw the scene of confusion below.  I had certainly uprooted trees and buildings, and they were now in various helter skelter locations.

From where I sat, I could see the Headmaster down below, reorganizing the houses and trees back to their original locations.  As he levitated the structures back into place, I noticed that those items also moved on the board in front of me.

Ah!  So the board itself was a miniature representation of the actual school grounds.  Of course he would not want anyone to touch it!  I was about to say something akin to profuse apologies when the Headmaster appeared in between us.

princeHe had with him, a boy with a sullen demeanor.  The boy looked as if he did not want to be there, but was too intimidated by the Headmaster to say anything.

“It’s okay,” he said to the woman.  “You may leave us.  No harm done.” He dismissed her and then indicated to the boy to take a seat next to me.  Then he wound his way to his seat.

“Since you are an advanced student, I need for you to look after this student for me,” Headmaster said.

I looked up, thinking he was talking to the guy, but no.  He was staring straight at me, as the poor guy fidgeted and looked down at his shoes.

I swallowed, suddenly realizing he meant for me to look after the male student.  But I had just arrived.  I literally knew nothing about the school, let alone what I was supposed to be doing.  How was I supposed to assist another person?

In front of my eyes suddenly appeared an electronic file.  It was filled with images and information about the boy.  I flipped through the pages and as I did, the information streamed into my mind, regarding his status.

It seemed, the student had been something of a troublemaker and truant throughout his life.  His family, a noble house of great wealth and rank, had turned their backs on him, striking the boy from their family will and disinheriting him.

He was, in essence, the paupered prince.


Cut loose from the family’s structured protection, he had turn rogue, joining one nefarious warring faction after another.  It was during one of their frequent and bloody fights that he had finally been picked up and brought to the school, as a last ditch effort to rehabilitate him back into the folds of civilized, normalized society.

How I was able to understand all this from a quick perusal of his file, I have no clue, but it certainly explained why he was so silent and sullen.

I glanced over at the guy sitting beside me.  He was, for all practical intents and purposes, a homeless vagabond with no family and no future.  He glared back at me, baleful and dejected, and in no small amount, embarrassed that I had been able to read his entire bio in a matter of seconds.

I sensed that it was too soon to talk to him, so I turned back to the Headmaster.

“So what is it that  you want me to do right now?”

The Headmaster leaned forward.  “Have you heard of this game?”  he indicated at the pieces on the table.   “It’s called Life,”

“How do you play it?”  I asked.

The Headmaster grinned and produced, from his pocket, a set of dice.  The Game of Life is easy.  You roll the dice and move the characters to wherever the dice land.”  



“But the things on this board actually happens out there,” I muttered with growing alarm at the sudden thought of what would happen should a real game be played.

“Yes.  Yes it does,” he grinned wickedly and without remorse.  “It all depends on the dice.”

“But what if you roll a really bad number and someone is horribly affected?”  I asked with dismay.

“That will never happen,” he said with a chuckle.  “Not unless I wish for it to happen.”

“They’re dice.  How can you control the end result?”

“Watch carefully,” he replied.  With a flick of his wrist, he threw the dice onto the board.

Ignoring the dice, I stared at the Headmaster’s face in amazement.  His steely grey eyes were narrowed, focusing on the dice, even before they hit the game board.

dice (1)I quickly glanced at the dice faces and hissed with awe.  The dots were changing in the middle of the throw.  I caught my breath as the answer suddenly hit me.

It didn’t matter what the value of the dice were.  I knew beyond the shadow of doubt that upon landing, they would display whatever the Headmaster wanted the numbers to be.

I could hear the dice rattle as they bounced a couple of times before landing.  Sure enough.  At their final resting place, the dice had changed yet again, to show the number of dots that the Headmaster desired.

“You see, my dear.”  He indicated at the dice.  “It is your will–and your will alone–which determines the results of the dice, and thereby, your fate.”  He handed me the dice.  “Go on.  Throw the dice and make the call before they hit the board.”   

I reached out and took the dice with great trepidation.

“Blow,” he suggested, holding out his empty palm and mimicking the gesture.

I glanced at him, then at the dice in my hand.

Then I blew on them.

Then I woke up.


School Kinda Sucks…Classroom Drama


So where was I?  Oh yeah.  I was telling you about the philosci dreams I’d been having, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT after Old Dude appeared and told me I had to go back to school.

I hadn’t written anything for about a week because to be honest, there was very little to say, other than the massive, boring downloads that had to do with very large, and conversely, very small things, and the actions and reactions that they exhibited with each other, as well as in conjunction with other external factors.

infinityIt’s all rather tedious and not much fun, but it was very predictable.  As soon as I got into bed, I would fall into a deep dream-state filled with these moving diagrams of geometries, spinning and cavorting in space.

And there would be some dull voice, droning on and on about how different geometries affect the currents of the liquid that they were floating in.

I learned about the mind-numbing array of geometries out there and their specific names, and  I learned how to calculate the effects of the currents, depending on the shape difference of each geometry.

I learned that it was these currents that had been generated by these various odd-shaped geometries that caused very predictable things to happen in other areas…that so-called spooky action at a distance was really just the currents of the liquid water bouncing off the odd angles and planes of various geometries.


OK.  I know, I know.  Enough with these boring details. I know you guys would prefer to hear the action parts of the dream.

I don’t remember most of the philosci data I received upon waking, but I do remember the classroom drama that I was involved in last night, so let me recount the tale before I completely forget about it all.

As I’ve been saying, Old Dude put me back in school.  My classroom had plenty of students, but one of those students is an exquisite girl with long wavy black hair and eyes so mesmerizing that the only way to describe her would be a single word.



For some reason, she followed me around from class to class, and attached herself to me.

From the look of things, we were best friends.  However, attached to her were five guys of varying looks and disposition.  As she clung onto me, they stuck to her like little puppies on a stretchy line.  Wherever we went, there they invariably would appear.


These guys were all in love with her and each vowed in his own way, that he would be there for her, through thick and thin, no matter what happened.  It was all very sweet in a corny kind of way.

Well, it would have been fine if it hadn’t been for the fact that she got pregnant.

Of the five guys following her, only two had anything to do with the pregnancy.  Since there was no way of knowing which guy had actually fathered the child, until such time as the baby was born and could be tested, she asked me to be the mediator, and to set up talks with the two guys who were affected by this turn of event.

So there I was, talking with them.  I pointed out the two who actually had something to do with the state she was in, and surprisingly enough, all five vehemently insisted that they would take care of her. Since I was her friend, it was my job to pass on whatever gifts and support the guys had promised her.

girlblackhairredlipsAt first, it was a very steady stream of gifts and funds, but towards the end of the semester, there was only one guy left who was still around and taking her to and from classes, and making sure she was tutored enough to finish out the semester.

Exams came and went, and on the last day, when we were supposed to go check our scores, I was there with her.  The only guy who was still hanging around her went into the classroom to check on the exam scores.

For a long time, he did not come out, so she told me to go in and look for him.  I slipped into the room to see that he was in deep discussion with one of the teachers.  From where I was standing, I could see that his score was 1050, a full 50 points above the top mark of 1000.  Her score was 520, which was a failing grade (a passing score would need to be 550).

I could see what was taking him so long.  He was pleading with the teacher to please, take the 50 from his score and pass it over to my friend so she could have a 570, which would be considered very low, but passing.  I was amazed at his score because I had already seen my own grade, which was 970—not shabby for a lazy Taobabe like me; but how he got an extra 50 points was beyond me, since I didn’t see any extra bonus point questions.

In any case, it was a moot point.  The teacher was having none of it.  My friend would have to retake the semester to properly learn the information that she did not absorb.  The guy could not shift his extra points over to her, and in fact, the teacher had no power to do so either.

I slipped back out of the classroom to let her know what had just transpired.  This was bad because it meant she would be left behind while the rest of us who had passed, moved onto the next world where we would continue our studies.

hug4From behind me, I could hear the sound of the door opening and then closing, and I could see them wordlessly look at each other.

I left them, clinging to each other as if they would soon be parted.  And in deed, that was what happened.

The very next day, after finals had been calculated, I was on board some flying ship, along with the rest of the students who had passed.  We were heading out for another school.

Our next adventure lies ahead.  More classes to take.  More streaming downloads of crazy philosci information.  More new friends to make.  More of everything.

This dream still has details to it, but I’ll leave it for the next installment, since this post is getting rather long.


School Kinda Sucks…A Little


The night after my visit from Lao Tzu, telling me I had to go back to school, I started getting nothing but philosophy-scientific downloads.  I say philosophy-scientific (and I’m gonna call it philosci from now on) because–well, that’s how Old Dude teaches.

Everything is a combination of philosophy and science.  Even boring things like eating an orange, or doing the laundry, result in reams and reams of mathematical equations and scientific theorems explaining the activities, all downloading through my eyes and into my brain.

And I’d be like…why?  I’ve had these philosci cram sessions in the past, and I know how it culminates.  It may make sense at the moment I’m getting the information, but I’m not gonna remember any of this when I wake up anyway, so why am I getting all this stored into my brain?

pogo.jpegIn fact, I even questioned him about its usefulness two nights ago, during a particularly frustrating lucid dream, when I was trying (and failing miserably) at riding a pogo stick, from an altitude of about half a mile up in the air.

I was also simultaneously trying to manage the download of equations explaining the mathematics behind riding a pogo stick—in midair!  On a jittery, unstable pogo stick!

I swear, my brain felt like it was going to melt with all those string equations.

Now, I call it a pogo stick because it looks like a pogo stick, with pedals where you put your feet on, and a long pole with handle bars but you don’t really jump up and down to get anywhere.  It just sorta surfs on the airwaves.

The handlebars are equipped with all these controls and blinking lights, but pushing them causes unexpected and crazy things to happen, so I tried not to push too many of those buttons at the same time.  It’s like trying to familiarize yourself with a video game joy stick when you don’t know what all the buttons do, except you’re up in the air and don’t want to cause too much mayhem by  pushing too many wrong combinations.

Since this was something that you use to ride, up in the sky, I had a momentary giggle when I realized that anyone on the ground, looking up, would think that I was a witch, riding a push broom, because it sorta kinda looks like it could be that, especially at night…and against a full moon, no less.


But I hasten to assure you that it is no push broom.  It’s basically just a simple mode of transportation that students and kids use to get around, similar to a student’s bicycle (as opposed to the space vehicles that the adults used).  However, much like the complexity of a bike, this pogo stick also isn’t as simple as it looks if you don’t know how to ride one, and I was botching it very badly.

Everyone else around me was surfing from cloud to cloud, and here I was, sinking lower every time I tried to make it bounce upwards.  Nothing I did was making it work.  I was starting to cry.

And then suddenly, some guy felt sorry for me and rode up behind me on his pogo stick.  He reached out, grabbed one of my handlebars, and shifted himself from his stick onto mine.  Suddenly, the pogo stick felt its controls being manipulated by expert hands.  It responded with joy, rising up into the bright azure sky and began flying with confident power.


My face cracked into a big smile.  This was fun!  I was jetting amongst the clouds!  Above me was blue sky.  Below me was blue ocean.  And behind me was an expert flyer, giving me a taste of how it felt to be able to utilize this pogo stick at its maximum potential.  It was an amazing feeling!

The guy stood behind me, on the pogo stick, and effectively flew the thing.  I could see where his fingers were placed as he pushed the combinations of buttons that allowed the pogo stick to move at his command.  Even his feet did things to the pedals, which I suddenly realized, also had controls that had to be worked.  In fact, your entire body had to work to make this thing fly right.  You don’t just stand there holding onto the handles and expect it to go anywhere.

‘Come with me,’ he said into my ear.

‘Sure!’  I agreed immediately with a bright smile.  It was a lot more fun than struggling with this pogo stick on my own.

As soon as I agreed, he launched us off.  But then—I saw an image of myself splitting from me, and I could see my image self moving away with the guy, towards the distant clouds!  Only…I was still in the same spot, even as he and the-other-me wind surfed away.

It took me a few moments to realize that I was still there, and that something had happened to prevent me from leaving with him, almost as if it was a dimensional split at that fraction of time, whereby only a presence that looked like me left with him.  I was, however, still here, in this dimensional timeline.

In a panic, I pushed some buttons to try and remain aloft.  But the pogo stick did not respond to me and I began  sinking again, into the ocean below.


To be fair, it was a slow floating descent, since I could have just abandoned the pogo stick and float on the air by myself (kind of like walking instead of riding a bike…you’ll eventually get where you need to go, but much slower than biking).  However, I stuck with the pogo stick until I finally floated to the ocean’s surface.

As I landed, from the periphery of my vision, I saw someone speed past me, holding onto something dark and long.  It was a wind tunnel, made of some dark grey lightweight fabric, and I suddenly found myself inside the moving wind tunnel.  I could feel the wind rushing through the fabric of the tunnel, and I laughed because it looked so cool.


Then I heard a deep, reverberating voice:


Belong to me.

And as the wind tunnel moved around me, I emerged from its tail end into another realm.

And then I woke up.

But that was two nights ago.

Since then, I’ve had more of those dreams where nothing interesting happened except for more philosci downloads.

All night long.  Just downloads.

And then, last night, I finally got a more interesting dream.  I’ll tell you about it as soon as I get some dinner.