I had to drop my kid to a kindergarten yesterday. As I stayed up all night long, and couldn’t be bothered with taking a bus, we hailed a taxi. A dog was crossing a small street leading up to my son’s school, and then I could feel and hear a little bump. We arrived. I asked taxi to wait a minute to take me to work - I was running out of time anyway, and was about to be late.
Driving up that small street again, I saw a small cute hairball of a stray dog, laying in the middle of the road. Obviously, we hit a dog on our way. Driver stopped and went off the car. A local man - shopkeeper from a little street shop nearby was staying next to the dog, smoking. He spoke to the driver. The street was small, and it seemed like he was not happy with a dead dog on the street next to his establishment. That, not the dog, was his concern. There was no rubbish bin or anything in sight - it is just a narrow street, without even a pavement. While they were quietly discussing something, I looked at the dog. There was no blood or anything - like this dog was just taking a nap in the middle of the street. The conversation was about to be finished; the driver reached the dog. I started to suspect he is about to grab it and drop into the taxi’s boot, to discard the poor thing later on somewhere.
The dog was not dead - it opened it’s eyes.
Continue reading ‘A dog story’
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I had a dream that a big robot was looking for me on an urban battlefield, amongst some rubble. If it saw me I knew it would kill me so, when it managed to get most of its head inside the little hole I was in, I grabbed its antenna and eye stalks and bent them around so they were facing inward and the robot couldn’t see anything, then I shouted something like “schauen, ein panza!”, which was supposed to mean “look, a tank!” in the dream and made the robot try to look behind itself, thinking it was about to be blown to bits. Because it couldn’t see properly the robot began to panic and ran about randomly all over the place and I felt rather sorry for it.
bartok fiend
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Last night in my dream I was talking to my dead cat. Being astrologist is not an easy task. People think that you are Jack-of all-mystical trades. Sometimes I was asked if I can materialize things, fly or talk to dead. Though I can’t do those things, it’s not entirely impossible as a sceptic might think. I know that this dream is not exactly “a dream”, a fruit of my imagination. My cat told me lots of things which definitely made some sense. My mother told me she once had a dream in which her pony she used to ride when she was a kid warned her about fire, which happened in a week time. So how it could be possible?
There is such a thing as brain frequencies which are usually measured in cps (cycle per second). Most generally those masters who are capable of creating objects and situations with their thoughts have brain frequencies up as high as 20,000 cycles per second, whereas the average person runs 40 cycles per second. More about this you can find from the excellent book “The holographic Universe” I came across recently.
So, with the new age occurring and dimensional barriers breaking down there will be a lot of communication between folks of the same brain frequency levels across many dimensions, that is not meant to be construed as “talking to the dead” as some overzealous Christians would like to imply.
What I think is: if there’s anything dead in our current world it is the worlds established religions. About everything else is alive, pulsing and can be tuned-in. Life is everlasting presence.
Maria Cohen
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I recently published a post here, called “My life as a tiger”. Since then I have received few e-mails from different people and a phone call from my friend, surprisingly all of them referring to skull trepanation. As it started to look rather like a heated debate, I decided to explain myself a little bit more on this topic. So here I scrambled together whatever I feel like or want to say about it. It’s relevant to me anyway, so why not put it here?
So, I want to make a hole in my skull. I had this dream for a long time, maybe for 5 years or so. It started probably from my early interest in anthropology. There were many references across different cultures to skull trepanation: mainly in Mesoamerica, but also in Pre-Christian Europe, India, Egypt. It is the oldest surgical procedure known to man, as some of the trepanned skulls dated back to 2500 BC. Which is weird, indeed. Why would people just about everywhere, where civilizations flourished, would want to make a hole in their heads?
Continue reading ‘A hole in the head: the most wonderful entertainment in the whole Wide Wonderful World’
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