Trans Dimensional Matters of the Heart
It was a pleasant, almost balmy Monday night, nothing much stirred save for the occasional visitor to the next door neighbours back yard. Becoming used to the almost incessant visits by enquiring or disturbed individuals did become quite commonplace and had lost most of it’s quaint , once genial charm. It had long gone past midnight and his imagination roamed the corridors of his mind, he fixed his attention to the faux lace curtains that hung down in front of the sliding windows, the roller blind was up and he could peer through the gloom of the night to see into the backyard at times or fix his attention on the curtains. He let himself slide into an almost trance like state and his eyes defocused upon the fixed location of his view. There it was, where once the lace curtains had been, draped in front of the window, now appeared the underlying static energy field of the curtain, a three dimensional viewpoint of the matrix that comprised that section of the curtain. Four perfectly formed spherical balls hung in the air, shimmering with latent intent, but of no threat to any form. It was beautiful to behold, it had been thirty years since he had last gazed upon the Quantum field and it’s image had always remained ingrained upon his memory, he stared at the two dimensional balls that suspended themselves in a perfect 3 dimensional square. Four simple dots on the lace curtain, access the quantum realm, and bobs your uncle, you have the three dimensional energy matrix that underpins our perception of reality. He did not stay long in the field, there were other pressing matters to be entertained and seen too and he disregarded the curtains for a short while. He wondered if he should perhaps gaze at the intrinsic nature of the top of the curtain, he entertained the thought and it was suggested that perhaps not the top section of the curtain, could be hazardous in that quadrant of the field, too busy, keep it simple stupid, the old KISS principle. Someone did say that whatever I did, don’t change any of the energy structures in the field, don’t change anything basically, not that he knew if it was possible or not but he never bothered, too risky, could crush reality in that time space dimensional sector of the curtain. He lounged back after a while, pleased that once again he had been able to gaze upon the fabric of reality and considered the matter intensely. At some point during this time, gazing into space, he was slightly intrigued to see a ghostly apparition appear, a hand seemingly passing through the glass, pushing the curtain in somewhat and waving his hand back and forth, “Just testing the air”, the ethereal voice replied to his mental questioning , “Psychic enquirer”. He had been gassed twice this week and did not want to overdo it on the deadly gas intake, too much can slow you down. He did raise himself slightly to observe the ghostly hand more closely, he was pleased to see that it was not attached to a body and realised it was his old friend Thing, a pretty good natured trans dimensional entity from the fifth dimension, pretty much a boyhood companion. Thing moved on and things were quiet until Flash Gordon arrived, not quite the cartoon character but more so a shadow entity, you only glimpsed them for a fraction of a second, move at the speed of light, which is almost a contradiction of terms since Flash is a Shadow Wraith, fourth or fifth dimension, travel between realities, all that sort of thing. He left quite soon after arriving and stopping for a moment to engage in some friendly banter, “Are you still the fastest loser in the Galaxy Flash, you spun out meth head”, “Gee whiz Henry Banwell, your insults are still hopelessly inadequate, gotta go, things to do, people to haunt and all that sort of thing, be well my friend”, and disappeared, as they say, in a flash. Things settled down for a while till the Hardings appeared in their backyard to begin their nightly worship of the great Owl God, Babylonian I think, Moloch, same one that the Bilderberg group worship in Bohemian grove, some bullshit like that. This had only become a recent event, perhaps even more surprising than seeing a hand come through your window, and he watched as the two elderly pensioners got down on all fours and bowed to their God, Moloch, that was what was said, he wasn’t too certain of the exact details, who they were actually bowing too, probably didn’t matter, not in Donald anyway. He watched them for a while and wondered if they were going to perform chanting or ritual child sacrifice, he wouldn’t have been surprised any which way, so he sat back down to await the next trans dimensional entity or strange event.
“diselusion.com The Moloch Owl God is one such figure, steeped in history and mystique. 🌌 In ancient times, Moloch was often associated with child sacrifice and worship, primarily in the Biblical account”, taken from the net.
A while later he heard he heard a question, “Who’s orchestrating this event, all these voices, who’s responsible”, perfectly honest question, and the enquirer received an answer, “It is the Universe you fools, who do you think can do all this and more, did you think it was perhaps NASA, no, I am teaching you all a lesson, before your planet is destroyed and you sink into chaos, what did you think was going to happen when you let someone inject mRNA into your blood, an untested drug that had not passed clinical trials, yes. the Swarm put the hit on your planet and your population, too many people, too little resources, little time left, but there is still a chance”, and so the Universe droned on, changing voices, howling around houses and teaching people, if they listened. As the night progressed and the teaching Masters disappeared to evade the dawn, he awaited the rising of the Sun, it had been a pretty good night and he had caught up with some old friends. He wrote down his notes and settled down to await the nights activities.
