Hyper Dimension

Sunday October 9^th 2011

After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, I closed my eyes and finally drifted off to sleep. When I reopened my eyes, I was sitting in the front room of the old family house. It was daylight. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze. I had an electric guitar resting across my lap. There were a couple of other guitars placed around the room. Other than that, the room was empty. The thought of playing music ran through my mind, but another voice gave me telepathic instructions. I heard the following:

Go to your room to see the map.

I spoke back without speaking.

Does this have to do with a star map?

It most certainly does Tommy.

The voice had a male energy to it. Familiar, yet not. I got up, placed the guitar on the chair, and began my walk towards the back bedroom. I felt like I was moving in slow motion. I thought I saw someone in the kitchen area. It might have been my grandmother standing at the sink washing dishes. She is deceased, and I miss her dearly.

As I made my slow approach to my childhood bedroom, I began to think about the following information. In February 2010, I had a series of dreams the week of my grandmother’s birthday. I dreamed the entire week and recorded every detail. A single word had stood out to me. The word “boots”. Another detail that caught my attention was seeing a great red-orange star with a tiny blue planet revolving around it.

I entered the room and seen the star map tacked to the wall. I felt a wave of energy hit me. I began to vibrate. Everything made sense now. All along, I have been in communication with the Arcturians. These Beings hail from the Bootes constellation. Arcturus is a huge red-orange star with a blue celestial body circling it.

So here we are, over a year later, and I have finally pieced together this amazing puzzle. I exclaimed.

Yes. So now you know. The voice spoke back.

I had asked some time ago, who was I communicating with. Remember? Wrote it down on a piece of paper before going to bed. Then I had a dream…

And in that dream, the sheet of paper fell off the table. How does the saying go? It’s off the table. Well, at the time, it was not up for discussion. It seemed a little too easy to just answer the question. We like to make Humans work.

We laughed together at this statement. My telepathic friend then informed me that the Arcturians enjoy communicating with Humans through dreams. Their preferred way of communication. I too like dreams.

Fight or Flight Response

Tuesday April 10^th 2012

I was walking in a parking lot, pulling two wheeled luggage’s. I felt like I was being followed. I turned my head slightly to my right and seen a Caucasian woman that looked suspicious. I quickened my pace and found my vehicle, which was a silver SUV. I mounted the SUV and jetted out of the area, almost hitting her and several cars in the process. She did look familiar, like a friend of a friend. I drove under an elevated train. Rays of light shone down through the tracks, upon the bustling street.

Soon after, I found myself walking in the hallway of a school. There was a group of rowdy teens terrorizing everyone. It got to the point that they had murder on their minds. I had the fight or flight response. I choose flight.

I hid in a classroom, hoping that the angry teenagers would eventually leave, but these persistent pesky teens were now at the door. I picked up an item, a pipe, and used it to bludgeon the first one who stuck their head through the door. He was a blonde kid wearing round spectacles. I brought the pipe down on his head and he fell back into his friends. This slowed them down some and gave me the chance to move my location into a bathroom.

They regrouped and entered the classroom like wild animals. I knew that I had just did a bonehead move by going into the bathroom. There was no way out. The teens began pounding on the door, which had a thin glass panel covered by a yellow curtain. Once the glass was compromised, I could see a set of female hands, then a couple of faces. These are just fucking kids, I thought. But that did not stop me from turning on the fight response.

I grabbed hold of a pair of scissors that were sitting on the sink, and struck down upon the hands of that girl. She screamed in agony. I did not care in the least bit. These damn kids want to kill me, and I will not allow that.

Suddenly, I could see everything in the third person, from an above angle, as if I had gone out of body and was hovering in a corner of the ceiling. A chain reaction had occurred after I stabbed the girl. She fell back, bumping another teen who was holding a syringe filled with green liquid, who then fell forwards and stuck the blonde teen who I had initially hit over the head. It was almost comical.

The dream shifts, and now I’m sitting with my brother in a restaurant. We were having an emotional moment. He wanted to hug me and I obliged. Some people sitting at the other tables took notice, but said nothing. They returned to their meals and conversations.

As we were hugging, an unknown man came out of nowhere and walked in between our table and where we stood. He had come out of the bathroom and still had his pants opened and belt unbuckled. He actually looked semi crazed. He was sweating profusely. He turned to look at us as we looked at him. I thought, I hope this tender moment doesn’t turn into something bad.

The scene began to fade…

…I found myself standing in the middle of a living room in an apartment. I looked towards the windows and could see the neighboring buildings, deducing that I was in “the projects”, possibly in NYC.

It was late in the evening. The street and building lights illuminated a gang of men who were standing in front of a building. I began observing them. They were observing me as well. A couple of African American boys ran into the living room, startling me. I had thought I was alone. They were nervous. I turned to continue my vigil. I could see that there were two men, in two separate apartments, positioned across the way. Even though it was dark, I could feel these men were watching me closely. Then a weird thing happened. A man suddenly appeared by the window, floating. I ducked down and the children followed. As I looked around the room, I began to notice that the gang had people positioned all along the roofs and terraces of all the nearby buildings. They were all armed and could see into the apartment clearly. There were no curtains or blinds that could be closed to hide us from their prying eyes. I scurried across the floor and found myself holding a sniper rifle. Where the hell did I get this from?, I thought. I must use this. For the second time, I decided to fight.

The first people I shot were the two men who were in the apartments across the way. I managed to hit three guys with one shot. However, the victory was short lived because I was out numbered. They all began shooting at me as I tried to find a safe zone somewhere in the apartment. I ended up going into the bathroom, for the second time.

My perspective changed, for the second time as well, to that of someone outside of the building. Possibly an onlooker. I could see two young African American kids scaling the building in which I was housed. They were moving fast, obviously trying to avoid being shot. One was successful, climbing over the rails of a terrace, entering an apartment. The other was not so lucky. He was shot and fell a long way down to the pavement.

Finally, after a busy night of dreaming, I found myself in a darkly lit industrial area. There were a series of holding cells, with scattered debris everywhere. I had seen a woman being dragged by a couple of men in uniform. They were placing her inside the last cell. She was in bra and panties, which were pulled down some. I did not get the impression that she was raped, instead, since they had dragged her on the floor, this had caused her panties to come down some. We, whoever we were, rescued this woman, knocking out the individuals who were about to incarcerate her.

We walked to the far end of the corridor and noticed that there were train tracks below. A freight train was in the process of passing. The woman wanted to jump on top of it but hesitated. I heard one of the men say we have to wait for the 6. This made me think of the 6 train that travels the length of the Bronx and Manhattan. We could hear the voices and movement of more uniformed men coming from the opposite end of the corridor. One of my companions pulled down a gate as I could see the silhouettes of these men in the distance. I guess I’ll be fighting again.