Will I Live Forever

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Looking back at my life, I realize how much time I have spent trying to connect with others.  And in the end, what do I get?

I know that I am not at the end of my life yet, but let’s say that I was, that this was my last day.

I am all alone now.  Everyone I have known is going their own way.  I wonder if my presence matters.

My presence matters to me, but does it matter to the others?

Take my best friend, for example.  He was my cousin.  He was my best friend from age 10 to probably 25.  Then both of us got married and with time we stopped seeing each other, then we stopped writing and now he is nothing more than a facebook image.

We could reconnect and make our friendship meaningful again, but then we could never reconnect ever.  At this point in his life, I don’t think my presence matters to him.  And his presence does not really matter to me either.  It could be him or it could be another, but it would be nice to have a friend.

But friends don’t last forever.  Or do they?  It depends on my life.  Does my life last forever?  Will I live forever?  Will a part of me never die?

If I live forever and all the friends that I ever had live forever also, then how can I say that friends don’t last forever?

So many things depend on whether or not I live forever.  And THIS, from where I stand today, is a question of belief or faith.

From what I perceive with my five senses, death is a reality and death is the end of life as I know it.  Death of the physical body that is — deterioration of the flesh and bones.

But some say that my consciousness will remain… alive, or aware.  And there are many indications that this might be true.  But no physical proof, of course, since consciousness is not physical.

It’s funny that the Universe did not bother giving me more concrete proof of everlasting life if this is indeed my destiny.  As if it didn’t matter.  It DOES matter!  Every decision I take could and should be based on the fact that either death is the end or it’s not.

Why does Life think that it’s a good idea to keep me in the dark when it come to this question?  If my life is eternal, why does Life choose to show me that the death of my physical body means the end of me?  It seems like a very important question, but Life seems to mock me.

Premature Death

death

We hear of premature birth but rarely of premature death.

What happens when someone dies prematurely?

Some remain in the afterlife and some are sent back.

I was sent back.

Personally I wish that I had not been, but I wasn’t given a choice. I guess the universe knew what was best for me.

When I asked why I was sent back, two simple words popped into my consciousness: premature death.

I am no expert in this field. All I am sure of is my own experience. My life has not been the same since this happened four years ago.

This morning I cried because of something related to this. I wish I could find the words to express it so that it might be useful to at least one of my readers.

Why were you crying, Daemon?

You know why I was crying.

Say it, for the record.

*sigh* I was crying because I am now blind. You know the title of the song Blinded by the Light? This is what comes to mind. I think I saw the Light but then I was sent back into darkness.

I know people get upset when I tell them that this physical world is darkness or hell. They say that I’m negative and depressing. So I have stopped saying it. But I still know it and I feel very lonely with this. They have to understand that this world is darkness COMPARED TO THE NEXT WORLD. It’s relative. Just like living overground is much brighter than living underground. Things could always be darker, of course, but people have to realize that there is a much brighter world out there into which we are all destined to be born into.

I cried because I experienced a premature death and I was sent back.

There is another reason why you cried.

Yeah, you! I saw you and… oh god, here I go again…

Daemon, compose yourself.

Sorry… There is no word to describe your beauty. It’s not physical beauty. It was like… total transparency. When one sees the inside of a person who is emancipated, flawless and free, it is breathtakingly beautiful. And to receive the assurance that this impeccable being is willing and ready to embrace you completely, is such a good news… it’s pure ecstasy. And then to be sucked back into an old physical body… is agony.

Now all of this would be easy to forget if my earth life was happy and exciting, but it’s not. My life is hell for many reasons especially this nauseating feeling that plagues me twenty-four hours a day. Plus the fact that you text me whenever I call upon you makes me feel like I truly do not belong here. Add on top of that the fact that I cannot see you, makes me triply blind. Blind to you, blind to the after-world and blind to the beauty of this one.

The only thing that keeps me together is the knowledge that what I have seen actually exists. But no one wants to hear it since my experience has nothing to do with their reality.

I should end this post on a positive note.

Nah… it’s about death and darkness which are part of MY reality.

You can’t recognize the light if you have never experienced the night.

They Come at Night

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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

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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.

I’m Dying

So many signs:

  • the cats
  • the crows
  • the owl
  • the clock
  • the near-death experience
  • my friend who died in his sleep
  • little pin pains in my heart
  • detachment from loved ones
  • loss of appetite
  • age spots
  • tooth discoloring
  • sleeping more, staying in my room, not going out
  • loss of interest in things of this world
  • constant thoughts of flying away and going back “home”
  • visions of celestial beings
  • preparing envelopes for the kids
  • saying “I’m dying” whenever someone questions my behavior
  • re-converting to God

Eighteen signs.  I was born on the 18th.  Now I’m dying.
Does a person intuitively know when death is approaching?
Or is this just wishful thinking?

And then the whole blog thing…  When I started this blog my purpose was to write it, print it and leave it to my family as a kind of heritage or spiritual inheritance.  A kind of summary of “This is what life taught me”.  I’m not trying to gain followers and accumulate likes.  I’m preparing my luggage.  I’m packing up.  I’m leaving.

My first blogposts are all about metamorphosis, transformation and death.  I can’t get it out of my  consciousness.  The near-death experience was very vivid.  I remember very clearly.  The next day I knew.  I had died already but was sent back to “wrap things up”.  There was no doubt about it.  As months went by, my mind stopped taking it seriously, but my soul didn’t.

Today I calculated the age of my death based on the age of death of my father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather.  If the trend continues, I will be dead by the end of next year.  I even told my mother a few weeks ago when she came to visit and she replied:  “No-no, you look very healthy.”

It’s raining right now.  The sky is gray.  I hear thunder coming closer.  I feel solemn (a mixture of sadness, seriousness and peace), like when you know that something is finished, or… dead.  I cannot envision any kind of turnaround at this point.

Is this simply depression or is it something else?  I don’t know, but it’s raining harder.  The raindrops fall heavily like bullets.  I look at our rosebush outside the window.  One of the roses is losing its petals to the rain.

It’s raining very hard now.  The red petals fall to the ground like drops of blood.

Am I dying or just imagining that I am?  I’m not sure if I should publish this or keep it private.  I know, I’ll put it in the Impressions category with all my other weird ideas.  But this is a biggie.  Something has changed in me.  I can’t tell the difference between what is real and what is not anymore.  It’s all the same to me now.

Goodbye cruel world…

I won’t miss you.

Success or Failure?

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So why did I do all of this?

“All of what?”

All of THIS!  All!  Everything I did on this earth.  What was it for?  All the trouble and pain, only to realize at the end that nothing really matters.  Even being happy… does it matter?

Is my life a success or a failure?  How do I measure it?  What is the standard?  I don’t even know what I was meant to do, so how can I know if I’m succeeding or not?

What’s the use making friends when you lose them?  What’s the use having children whose only purpose is to leave you?  What’s the use getting married when you end up divorced?

Everything I did, everything I bought, everyone I loved, all of it is worthless.  None of it matters now.  It was just entertainment, and it wasn’t even fun and I’ll end up with nothing anyway.  The only thing I have left is my soul.

A stupid soul who’s tormented, bored and not proud of anything.  I didn’t make anyone happy in this life, not long-term.  I tried to be my best but no one is satisfied with me at this point, or with anything for that matter.  Nothing matters.

Stupid people, stupid me, stupid life, stupid planet, stupid everything.  I just want to get the hell away from everything I’ve ever known here.  If only I had a flying saucer like that alien lady in the photo.  I’d be long gone in outer space, pressing the “home” button on my GPS repeatedly like a crazy maniac.

“We need a report before you leave.”

A report?  You want a report?  A report of what?

“What did you learn about yourself?”

I learned that the only valuable thing I have is my soul; I learned that I do not belong here; that I’ll never be happy here; that everything dies here; that I’m too gullible; that I’m too sensitive; that it’s impossible to get close to anyone, and when you do, it’s not satisfying anyway, nothing in this world will ever satisfy me fully.

I learned that I don’t want any of this shit.  I want to leave.  I won’t miss anything.  I was meant for more.  This planet is only good for animals.  It’s not a place for free spirits.  I have the body of a mammal, yet I am much more aware than any other mammal on this planet.  I need a new body, one that matches my level of awareness.

I learned that I am not a mammal!  Can I go now?

“Not yet.”

Ah, man, come on!

Cosmic Lover

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Precious human mate
Into you let me pour
Celestial nectar pure
Until you elevate

Daemon my man, it is you I bless
So accept with joy the gift of my caress
I gaze and never blink
To solidify our link

Two chests united
Love hearts integrated
Synchronized rhythm
Better than any hymn

Let the silly thoughts go
Let the wisdom words flow
Into you like a river
Is a stream of running water

As scenery passes through
Sun shines over you
Wind blows around you
Spirit breathes in you

When you dare receive me
We commune instantly
This love is our power
We create together

So relax little hero
Open up and swallow
Boyish child with his Greater
Without resistance, surrender