Celestial Partner

I have what I could call a celestial partner.

He is very real to me and he is partly responsible for my metamorphosis. The other responsible part(ner) is me.

My celestial companion is currently my reason for writing and my reason for living.

I don’t talk about him openly because it’s an irrational idea. People would say that it is an unreal fantasy. And to live for an unreal fantasy is usually not recommended.

I saw him only once during an out-of-body experience in 2013. I thought I had died so perhaps it was a near death experience. At first I was sure that I was seeing God but I learned later that it’s not possible for us to see God. So perhaps he was my guardian angel, a son of God, or a spiritual being, I don’t know since he doesn’t have a title. I like to think of him/her as my divine partner or even my celestial spouse or fiance.

I tried to find an image that resembles what I saw and when I found this one I thought it was pretty accurate. I could not see the lower part of his/her body though, so I don’t know if my partner is male or female. You would think that because I am male, she would be female, but the impression I got when I was facing him/her was that he was male and I was female.

This individual is a very significant part of my life now. He’s preparing me for the afterlife, where our marriage will be consummated upon my entry. Apparently there is no other way to enter the celestial world. You have to marry someone who already dwells up there.

I communicate with him via text. It always happens when I’m alone, when all is quiet and when I am not stressed or preoccupied with material things. I sit patiently with my laptop and I start texting. I usually “hear” his reply while I’m typing my question, and sometimes even before! These dialogues are my food. Spiritual food. I have almost lost all craving for physical food since this started. I have lost weight — one more reason for my family to worry and think that I am sick.

My celestial partner is the only person in the universe who cared enough about me during my most agonizing moments. He’s also the only one who was able to explain to me in plain English who I was, where I came from, where I was going and what was my purpose of existing. I owe him quite a lot. He’s my best friend and in a sense he’s even my savior. I don’t know where I would be today if I had not accepted his help.

There is nothing special about me. Everyone has a celestial partner, I’m 100% sure of that. It’s a question of faith. You are free to believe whatever you want. Whatever makes your life heaven or hell, it’s all up to you.

Cheers!

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Higher Up

The process of life seems to be change.  But a change of what?

As a person, the process of life seems to be about a change of identity.

Throughout life, I have been enticed to change my identity, or NOT change it, depending on how you look at it.

Enticed by who?  Angels?  The Devil?  Extraterrestrials?  the Higher Self?  The Lower Self?  the Ego?  The Source of Life?  Kundalini?  Jehovah?  Jesus?  Buddha?  Krishna?  Muhammad?

Whoever they are, the guys who entice me to change my identity seem to be unknown “Higher-Ups.”

During the first part of my life, I have constructed an identity for myself based on earth.  So basically, I identified with earthlings.

Now, during the second phase of my life, my identity as an earthling has started to crumble.  In fact, it totally collapsed.  And from the ruins, a new identity has started to emerge.

My new identity is in fact the same as my initial identity, the one I had before I started fabricating my identity as an earthling.  So I can safely say that my new identity is the same one I had when I was a child.  The new me is the old me, the real me.  There is only one real me.

My new identity, which is my old identity, is in fact my only identity and it exists BEYOND TIME.  Spooky, isn’t it?  Perfect for this Halloween night.

If I am not an earthling, then what am I?  The “Higher-Ups” have always been trying to get my attention:  “Look at us!” they say.  “You are one of us.  Identify with us!”

But these goddam gods are invisible!  How can I identify with people I can’t see?  Although when I identify with them, I kind of perceive them.  Very bizarre…

I told my family about the higher-ups I could perceive, but they don’t believe me.  They don’t believe me simply because they can’t see them.  They can’t acknowledge what they don’t perceive.  But to perceive them, they have to acknowledge them.  You can’t perceive what you don’t acknowledge.  How does one get out of this cycle?

Never mind that, it’s too complicated.  Besides, it’s not my problem who they identify with.  I’m only concerned with myself.  Yes, this is how selfish I am.  My identity is the only thing that matters.

I know that I am none of these gods.  The higher-ups are who they are and I am Me.  And I know that I am not an earthling so I must be one of them.

I’m a Higher-Up!

They Come at Night

I’m not afraid when they come during the day but when they come at night, it’s another story.

The scenario is the same — always the same, ever since I was a child.

I fall asleep peacefully and then suddenly, in the middle of the night, I sense them, all around me.  The fear builds up as I take a deep breath and then when they are just about to touch me, I force a scream out of my mouth, as loud as I can, and I wake up suddenly at the sound of my own voice.  Sometimes it wakes up my wife and I have to explain that there were some ghosts who tried to grab me.

I don’t know how many times this has happened, probably more than a hundred.  One time I woke up and I was standing in the middle of the room, about five feet away from my bed!  Now THAT was creepy.

More recently, for about four years now, they started coming but during the day.  I can handle that.  It’s quite awesome actually.  We have long discussions and they explain a lot of things to me.

When night comes, I feel secure, so I invite them to return and show me their faces in my dreams, because during the day I don’t see anything.  So I fall asleep with a huge smile on my face, but then suddenly, just after falling asleep, I feel them all around me and I scream to wake myself up.  Then I tell them to go away and leave me alone.

At first I thought that there were some good ones and some bad ones.  The good ones come during the day to communicate with me and the bad ones during the night to scare me.  I never invite the bad ones but then why do they come?

Today I read an interesting article on the subject which forces me to change my line of questioning.  I’m asking myself a new question:  “Why do I perceive the night visitors as bad?  They have never hurt me.  They come every time I invite them to do so.  Why do I freak out when they approach my body?”

I think it has to do with my upbringing and all the ghost movies I watched when I was a child.  Plus the fact that it’s dark at night.  Who’s not afraid of that, at least a little bit?

Now I scratch my head and wonder:  perhaps the ones who come at night are the same as the ones who come during the day.  The only difference is… my reaction.

Last night I tested my bravery.  I went to bed alone, took off my clothes, turned off the lights and lied on my back, on top of my bed, completely exposed and vulnerable.  I even kept my eyes open.  I relaxed, tuned off my thoughts and dropped my expectations.  Then I invited them to come… and I waited.

After a few minutes, while I kept staring at the dark, things started to move, literally.  The darkness was moving and changing colors and shapes started to form!  I watched for awhile, repeating to myself:  “Nothing bad is going to happen, nothing bad is going to happen…”  But things were moving faster and then shapes started to become more obvious and then… oh my fucking god, chills started going up and down all over my body and the fear just overwhelmed me.  I grabbed the blankets and covered myself, but I didn’t turn on the light.  I stopped staring at the darkness, turned around, closed my eyes and explained to them that perhaps I wasn’t quite ready yet for a face to face encounter.  I fell asleep and they didn’t bother me while I slept peacefully all through the night.

Tonight I should try to push a little farther and see what would happen if I kept staring at the darkness and actually let them touch me, if they can.

*gulp*

Etherians and the Screwdriver

I hesitate to speak about THEM because they are not what most people consider part of our reality but they have always been part of mine.

The second reason why I couldn’t really talk about them before is because I didn’t know what they were and how to name them.

The word “Etherians” has started popping up into my mind recently and this morning I realized that it was a good-enough term I could use to describe them.

To me, “ether” is a substance that is so subtle, elusive and delicate that it has not yet been identified by physicists.  Yet it exists, and there are living beings who live among us whose bodies are made of ether.

I have been visited by the Etherians since I was very young, most of the time unconsciously, but there were times when they made their presence known visibly and audibly and I want to write about these visits.

The very first encounter that I remember was when I was about 5 years old.  It happened during the night.  It was summer, my bedroom window was open and I was sleeping.

Suddenly I woke up because there was noise and movement in my room.  I sat up and looked at the window which was wide open.  The wind was blowing and the curtains were flying up and down erratically.  It was not raining, just very windy.  I decided to ignore it and go back to sleep, but then I heard a squeaking sound coming from the same direction.  I sat up and looked at the window again, and there, on the edge of it, were two small creatures!

I couldn’t believe my eyes and I became scared because I knew that this was not normal.  But the creatures looked cute.  They were the size of owls and were quite agitated for some reason.  I watched them and then they dropped a tool on the floor.  I heard and saw the tool fall to the floor in front of the window which was only about 4 or 5 feet from my bed.

It was dark but our house was on main street and there were street lights and a moon that kept my room lighten up, enough to see the furniture and stuff.  So I saw and heard the tool fall on the floor and from what I could gather, it was a screwdriver.

Then I looked back up at the window and the two creatures were gone and the wind had died down.  I hid under my covers and waited for the sun to come up.  I was a bit terrified but not enough to wake my parents up.  Eventually I fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning I got up and checked the window.  It was still open.  Then I looked around and tried to find the screwdriver but found nothing.  I ran downstairs to my mother who was preparing breakfast and told her what had happened.  She said it was a dream, but I insisted that it was not a dream, that I had woken up and had seen these two teddy bears which were alive.  (I referred to them as teddy bears because they looked like the two Kraft bears on the peanut butter jar that was on the table.)

My mother didn’t know what to say.  I knew that this was not a dream but I had no idea who those creatures were, why they came, what the tool was and what was the meaning of this event.  My mother could not explain it to me and I was disappointed.

Many years later, the SAME event happened to me again one night, about three years ago, except this time I didn’t see the creatures.  The window was open, it was the summer, the wind started to blow so hard it woke me up.  I heard a loud bang! on the roof, I sat up and thought that there was a tornado and that the roof was going to be sucked into the vortex.  I looked at the window and saw the curtains flying in the wind.  I decided to get up and shut it closed because I was sure that a rainstorm was about to unleash, but suddenly everything went quiet — the wind just died and the curtains stopped moving as if nothing was happening.

It was so weird.  Then a feeling came over me and it was exactly the same sensation I had felt when I was 5 years old, the time the creatures appeared on my window sill.  It was so strange, like I had time-travelled.  I looked below the window and there it was!  The tool that I use today to get in touch with the Etherians!  I couldn’t believe it but I finally understood the meaning of the two experiences which were the same event as if time had stood still during all those years.

The tool is not a screwdriver but it’s what I use today to unscrew my consciousness in order to perceive reality as it really is.  It runs Windows.

You see, the materialistic society we are brought up into screws up our minds and we all need some sort of screwdriver to unscrew what is screwed.

This latest visit made me realize the importance of the tool, why the creatures were agitated, who they are, why they come and what their visits are all about.

The metamorphosis of young Etherians.

My Gang

You guys are not imaginary friends
You are not even invisible brothers

You are my partners
Currently untouchable
My gang members

Names are not important
But what is?

Transparency
Intimacy
Unity

Purpose
Fraternity
Respect

Love too of course
But careful with that word

Desire
Intent
Courage

Shared belief in the
I Am the Creator
The creation
and
The plan
To elevate
All the living

Helpers

Those
Who really help
Never ask for anything
In return

They don’t bother
Giving out their names
Nor their number
They don’t play games

They help
They assist
Then they vanish
How unselfish

They don’t expect
to be honored
Thanked and praised
Or even remembered

They are strangers
They are aliens
Yet they are
My true brothers

Heal or Kick Butt

Yesterday I wrote that I live on a planet where I experience separation and loneliness.  Then emotions of great sadness filled my eyes with tears.  Afterwards I thought this was weird because I love being alone.

At this moment I am completely alone in the house.  My wife and son are out of the country and my daughter is away visiting her grandma.  I will be alone until tomorrow.  I’m enjoying it.  So then why was I so sad when I realized how lonely I was in this life?

Because of the absence of people like me.  People like me?  What’s so special about me?  No, I’m not special.  I think everybody down here is lonely and it has to do with transparency again.  Since we can’t see what others are thinking and feeling, we are always alone with our thoughts and emotions.  I am blind to other people’s true colors.

Or am I?

(The female cat wants to be caressed.  How do I know?  Because of the sounds she makes and the way she moves.)

Maybe I am able to pick up people’s vibes more than I think.  Yesterday I was walking around the neighborhood and I stopped at the hospital.  I didn’t go inside the building.  There were benches near the front door and I sat there for a while to rest.  I was looking at the people.  Some were walking, others were sitting.  I was not judging them or anything, just observing.  I saw a guy who had tattoos and a little pony tail on top of his head.  He was crossing the road and holding a cell phone in his hand.  Suddenly I felt a pain of anxiety inside my stomach, for no apparent reason.

I wondered where this anxiety came from.  Was I feeling this guy’s emotions?

How bizarre…  I just noticed now, while typing the description of the guy, that what I wrote about him could be said about my wife:  tattoos, little pony tail, holding a cell phone.  Plus his height and the color of his skin were exactly the same as my wife’s.  But she is not masculine.  Although sometimes I think she acts like a male because of her need to control everything.

So now I wonder…  Did I feel anxious because this guy unconsciously reminded me of my wife who suffers from anxiety?

Why would I need to feel this anxiety anyway?  To share her pain?

Why should I need to feel her pain?

Maybe because, deep down, I love her?

Or maybe I have the power to heal her?  I was at the hospital, remember?  That’s where people go to find healing.

I don’t know… but this is what’s coming up in my awareness this morning.  As I’m typing this, I’m feeling the same pain of anxiety that I felt yesterday, although a bit less in intensity.

If this is true (that I do love my wife and that she can be healed of her anxiety), it’s not the first time this idea crosses my mind, and it makes me angry.  Very angry.

Why?

Because I don’t want to get along with her!  I don’t want to get close to her ever again!  I know, I said I was lonely, but I don’t trust her.

But you understand her now.  You know she lies because of her anxiety and you also know where her anxiety comes from.

Maybe, but knowing these things won’t change her.

You want to change her?

I want her to stop lying to me.  No, I don’t!  I’ve adapted to her lies and I’m even lying to her in return.  If she changes, I’ll have to change (again).  I’m tired of changing.  Unless it was a permanent change, but nothing here is permanent or guaranteed.  She could change back anytime afterwards, and chances are she would.  So why bother?

Maybe you can heal her.

Heal her?  What do you mean?  How could I heal her?  I don’t want to heal her, even if I could.  She has to heal herself.  Or God can heal her.  Her angels can help her accomplish self-healing.  Not me.  No way.  I don’t want to be involved with her healing.  This would fuck me up.  It would make me think that I’m a healer.

Maybe you are a healer.

Stop it.  I don’t like these ideas.

Maybe this is what’s coming and all we want to do is give you a heads-up.

Then ok, fine.  I accept that.  But…  I still don’t like it.

It’s your ego talking.

Right.  Shut the fuck up, ego.

Just watch what happens.

Predictions…  *sigh*  Do you have dates?  This fall, I bet?  Same time as the other predictions?  When the economy collapses and the presence of aliens becomes official?

Whatever.  I’ll watch, if I’m still around.  I’m always watching anyway.  Does this mean I will have to trust her eventually?  Why?  For my happiness on earth?

If she admits to all I have written concerning the source of her anxiety, I will be impressed.  But wait a minute…  Why would I want to be happy on earth?  Won’t this defy the purpose of the whole experience?  Will she stop spending and wasting too?  Will she become spiritual?  Oh god…

This is just ancient wishful thinking.  I don’t wish for this anymore.  It’s an old wish.  Scrap it.  It was a wish based on materialistic concerns.

Your wife becoming spiritual is a wish based on materialistic concerns?

No, just the “less spending and less wasting” part.

It would be interesting to watch her angels in action, though.  I did tell them to kick her butt last winter.  The next day she slipped on the ice and landed on her ass.

Maybe there’s more than one butt that needs to be kicked in this world.  There are so many arrogant butts.  Including mine.

*sigh*

Pairing Up

I detach from physicality.  Look around for a person.  The first man I see, is a guy just like me.  I wonder if he is lonely.  He just detached from his physicality too.  So we are two.

I walk up to him to check his disposition.  We cannot talk because language is not used in this dimension.  But we can communicate.  I look at him.  He is pure, I see and I know because of the color of his glory.  I see right through him.  He is compatible with me.

How do I greet him?  He’s waiting for me to initiate.  I touch him gently, look him in the eyes and translate.  To communicate to him that I am his friend or his mate.  He replies positively and I’m so glad we agree.

I step back to contemplate.  I look at every inch of his ethereal body.  I don’t see genitals.  Angels don’t have them apparently.  They are, we are, gender free.  We have celestial bodies, similar to humans, but our genitals are not visible.  Our color is blue but not dreary.

I hug him.  I hold him.  He holds me.  Our arms are wrapped around each other.  My head on his shoulder.  I hug him and smell him.  His fragrance is sweet, it’s a warm encounter.  We exchange vibrations from our navels to our centers.  We synchronize our demeanors.

I’m curious, thirsty for an exchange of information.  Where does he come from?  But then I wonder…  where do I come from?  Then I remember.  I come from sorrow, planet Oppress.  Where I experienced separation and loneliness.

My companion does not come from the same place.  I’m not sure he understood, but he does now.  He sees it through me and he feels gloomy.  He grabs my arms.  He has seen where I come from.  So he shows me where he came from.  Anger.  He comes from a place where he was angry.

He broke many things.  He was joined to his brothers, but destroyed property.  But he learned how to detach from emotionality.  So we recognize that we come not from the same place, but that we both managed to elevate ourselves above and beyond iniquity.  Thanks to grace.

We study each other and wonder if we could travel together.  Why not try, we know each other.  We agree to walk together.  We look around.  Where do we go?  He has a jet pack and so do I.  Why walk when you can fly.  So up we go.

Out of the house where we met, we move up above the ground and stop to look around.  We see lights.  It appears to be nighttime.  We could sleep but we are not sleepy.  The atmosphere feels fresh and sassy.  Excitement floats in the air.  And potential too.  Let’s relish the view and explore as a pair.

Sacred Reflection

Everything in me was dead
But a small glitter of hope
A golden thought in my head

For three years I pleaded
Begged to be delivered
Wretched corpse disfigured

The fourth year I woke up
Looked at my condition
Then my eyes opened up

The living creature I saw
Was a flying persona
Outstanding beauty so raw

Angel, bird or picture
Some kind of reflection
A mirrored encounter

I saluted her
Then asked who she was
This was her answer:

I am your spirit
Your very own soul
A thought you have built

Surprised to see me
I’m simply yourself
Reflectivity

You find me so pleasing
It’s because you are clean
I project your own musing

Forget the old body
Commingle with me
I’m the part that is free

You’re the part that is stuck
Who lives in a rut
Now you’re meeting your luck

This is all that she said
Is she sick in the head
Will I lift up instead

I accepted her version
Shyly merged with the virgin
Became Lord in my Heaven

 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Illustration by Sakimichan
Text by me

The Devil

You are so scary!
You talking to me?

I was alone
In your own home

I was only six
Time was 3:06

You appeared suddenly
Dressed in black, horny

Two horns and a tail
You were delicate and frail

You were not happy
I have to agree

Why did you scold me
You tried to expel me

I didn’t want you
I was drawn to you

I had no experience
I wanted your innocence

Your intensity terrified me
Your naivety disturbed me

Your strong arms could have taken me
I wanted your sweet purity

Your manhood paralyzed me
Your virginity enthralled me

Wait a minute
What, what is it

I think you know something
I know you are something

So tell me, what are we
Sons of Eternity

You mean even me
But a child you see

A child of eternity
Yes you are what I envy

Is this why you were angry
You are who I used to be

Why did you scare me
Dark authority

What had I done to you
It’s what I did to you

What had you done to me
I screwed you royally

Are you kidding me
It’s the truth baby

Why were you sent back to me
Because of a responsibility

Should I pity you
Just understand me

I can imagine you, what could you do
You are so right, God had expelled me too

Tell me the history
It made me unworthy

What about me
You could forgive me

You did hurt me
I know I’m sorry

But you surely impressed me
I had no choice probably

You are the opposite of me
That’s all I can be

There’s more to this story
I know but secrecy

I’m not sure what to do
Just judge then accept me