April 23, 2001

  • It was a night of lucid dreaming.  The very moment after laying down and closing my eyes with my hands by my sides, I was impacted with vivid images of my hands and arms flailing uncontrollably in all directions--as if I were a mad orchestra conductor.  Mind you, I was not "asleep" in the conventional sense, but had just started my entry supra-consciously into a dream state.


    So I "see" my mad gesticulations from a prone position and have a sudden urge to return to the keyboard to type.  But I realized if I did so, I'd interrupt the dream flow.  So I decided to allow, instead, the lucid imagery to unfold.


    Next, the "wall whispers" slipped in.  The "wall whispers" are usually subliminal but become liminal when a lucid dream state keeps me supra-consciously awake even though ordinarilly I would have sunk into the mattress unaware.  As if I "see" myself and "hear" them, but the whispers only "see" me sleeping. Barely audible, then audible, then not. In and out.  Two sizzling evocations were wafted that I, quite remarkably, "heard" clearly.  One voice said: "We'd think for him, if only he'd let us." And the other responded: "But he won't let us." Again, at that moment, I had a nearly irresistible urge to bolt out of bed and back to the keyboard.  But I thought to myself: "I'll remember this in the morning, better then than now."  And I continued to move on.


    The next moment of the dream journey left me utterly awash.  I had a vision of an ocean of endlessly repeating waves.  But it was an ocean of psychic soundings, and the waves were intimations from afar.  Succeedingly touched by each wave, my inner awareness welled...until oversaturated, and then another shift.


    Her name was Tasha Litchi. And I remember nothing else.

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