Friday, May 17, 2024 - Part One."It has happened!": Based on true events.I curled up in my favorite position; the one for after 7 in the morning, though this time was an exception. It was around half past four and nothing made me feel more at ease than that fetal pose; the one described. I couldn't stay still staring at the ceiling. I don't know if it was because of the light, almost imperceptible pain in my stomach, or my hair covering my ears, causing a tickling sensation that woke me up. I don't know, the only thing was those stormy ocean vibrations, those outgoing energies like moonlight. They wouldn't leave me in peace until I detached myself in relaxation, in a deep sleep. After a while, I felt my body becoming rigid, in a pose that feels like a numb stone, yet in tranquility. I felt as if my muscles were going to break and then it happened, the magic occurred. I didn't know what was happening, I can barely remember that moment in detail, it's just a sensation that dominates my memories. My body felt gelatinous, sticky, like a rock thrown into a ravine where you can't hear the sound of it hitting the bottom. Just like that, I was moving from the bed to the floor. But it was as if time no longer existed, as if the floor would never reach me, as if that minute was eternal. I enjoyed it until I saw spots, spots on the floor that I could appreciate as shapes, but soon it was just that, an impression of something. I was no longer falling, the nonexistent seconds were no longer passing slowly. I stood up, but I don't remember how, or if I saw myself or if I didn't due to the lack of visibility in the scene. I just stopped moving... And there I was, standing in the middle of my living room. Instantly, I was frozen by a mental cold, like a senseless joy; just that, a joy I can't explain and might feel again every night I wish to. 2 weeks earlier: My 24th birthday was an exception to being absent-minded. I spent it without any technology. I had gone to the beach with my parents for about three days; practically two hours away from my house, not far for the first trip of the year. I didn't bring much motivation; since what I like most about a change is "traveling the road," or feeling like I'm flying through the air without a course, without permissions, and without anything to ruin that delight. Seeing the window and perceiving a life beneath me, at those heights in that movement and noise that doesn't stop until after a few hours. I love it, I easily fell in love with long trips because they don't let us think, they give us time to say goodbye to home; outside of being in it, from the chores. They give us that vibe that we're no longer where we should be 24 hours a day, that everything changes and can become different. It's that, the distance makes life flow differently, the return exhausting; like hugging a friend from years ago, a friend who visits us there where we always see him; in the mirror.That's how I did nothing but live each second. Although it hurt, I won't deny it. I returned with my face burned by the sun, my shoulders felt like open wounds, my back screamed every time I moved my sweater or tried to adjust my bra. It was horrible, and the terrible thing was spending my actual birthday under that uncertainty. What I don't remember happening to me was the intense heat on my sensitive, irritated white skin.I had been immersed in the hobby of meditation for days, considering myself a fairly spiritual being for more than a year now. I hadn't delved into what I would have liked to do in my blessed imagination of having a soul.I allowed myself to do it, why wouldn't I take advantage of who I am and where I am headed? It is the perfect process to stop running the track where everyone runs, to dive into my virgin waters and fly under my own wings. It is time to explore, that unknown and familiar thing we always carry within us.I had been familiar with astral travel since I first became a resident of the United States at age 15, but I never had the courage to surrender to one, until now, of course.It was a video, a search that led me to feel that inner power, that day I wandered almost achieving it without wanting to "Wandering". That day became a door without stones in my path, instructing myself more and letting myself be guided; when I entered my phone, it was the most viewed thing. I wasn't writing, just a realistic dream I had; among others well kept in my consciousness, to later learn more about these trips we often take without realizing it. Every night is an opportunity, a window about to open.There I did my meditations in less than 30 days. Feeling that constant vibration, that intense cold spreading all over my body to a single point, with well-connected hands and feet. I used a very uncomfortable position to be honest, maybe because deep down I accept having quite a bit of fear just to be there as a listener, a liver, a sole spectator. I didn't intend to go out even the slightest, just feeling my energy flow, my frozen hands, and that power we can't see was too gratifying. My vibrations increased; that when walking down the street, those tingles would come out of nowhere, scaring me into absurd thoughts "that I might leave in any circumstance", it didn't matter if I was waiting for the bus to school, sitting peacefully or just walking, observing those beautiful swans in the lake. Something in me moved unintentionally, without naming it.The animals began to approach a little. It's as if they could see me beyond a physical body. That beautiful bluebird peeked through the grass from the ground. It stared at me, wasn't afraid, turned around, and disappeared on tiptoes. Those wild northern ducks that came towards me at a slow pace; they gave me their attention, made their acoustic sounds to which I hurriedly moved away down the path to the buses. The house noises increased enough to worry me a bit, luckily, they haven't bothered me so far. They are like electrical discharges felt throughout the home, running along the walls and making scratching sounds. It is interesting how after those two weeks they have amplified. I drew my somewhat incoherent conclusions that: "a lot of vibration attracts low-frequency entities". It may be or not, the only thing I know; is that they love making music when I am obviously alone.Part 2:Sunday, May 19, 2024... It bothers me that events happen so quickly, that from one day to the next there is already more information to think about than what can occur over the course of a week. Two days ago, I experienced a realistic fantasy, and yesterday I once again lived closely the real knowledge of two worlds so uniquely divided by stripes. I could see in my parents' eyes the bitterness, the stress, and the sadness. I could see in myself a field of creations, of ideas, of endless emotions, and happiness in an empty boat of nothingness. It's about having to move, to think, to shake off the darkness, wondering why it all happens so fast, why we go faster than we should in the very calm. In the end, I know; it never starts from the beginning...Last week, I was walking towards school, still feeling a transparent glow in my hands that I couldn't perceive even in the sunlight. Filled with energy, filled with life in the coldness of a skin still scorched by the sun, the heat settled in these last days of May. I would come home with the urge to fall asleep, but the restlessness of sitting to continue my duties, asking myself so many questions wanting to know why, endlessly tangled in areas no one else bothers with. There, sitting later, I would dedicate the end of the day to meditate for about 32 minutes, which did not calm my panting. There, I could appreciate myself, my body, my more conventional and lighter second self.Then the fear continued, in a position that made me look uncomfortable and not at all the protagonist of a good experience... until one day, the glory changed. Wednesday, May 15, was another day with greater anxieties dragged by the passage of time outside. I went to school wanting to return on the first bus that dropped me off nearby. There I was, listening to the chapters facing the teacher, which I barely understood and had to record so many curiosities on my own. After an hour or so, we were called to receive some diplomas in an activity where the music was out of focus, becoming a noise in my ears, a scream that wouldn't stop, and my gaze was withdrawn, annoyed even if I seemed passive without letting go of my thoughts. We returned, but I didn't achieve any accomplishment; this month wasn't the best for me, and it was the penultimate one before finishing my radiography course of three months.Upon arriving home, I took time to organize the mental clutter echoing on my screen. It's funny that nothing out of the ordinary happened, but for me, it was a complete shadow in front of the display. That technology that spins me around, those books that make us search a bit where we don't have the chance! I saw shadows, but not visually. It's the not understanding, the being blocked in various ways, the desire to rest without falling asleep. I decided to listen to the 32 minutes of my short therapy, which helps me feel close to my being and those superpowers from before. I stayed calm, occasionally other thoughts would appear, lingering to tease me for long moments. But I achieved it, feeling connected. Later, I did it in the early morning hours, past 12 am, where my father remained to finish his cigarette in occasional stretches, out there in the chair I hate on the terrace. I see it as something very large, full of spikes in a peaceful center filled with flowers. I played my second therapy, a mantra music to calm the soul, about 3 hours long. I discovered it then not long ago, just last Friday while searching for one of those songs with vibratory sounds to sleep; or stay awake in ecstasy. I came across a work of art, a piece that unintentionally channeled me every day I listened to it; to that plane that called me without me hearing the shout of my name.I fell, I fell into deep sleep, into the lack of memory, into the senselessness.I woke up around 2:30 AM. I was surprised by the time, given that I hadn't removed my eye makeup, brushed my teeth, or prepared my sofa for a nap. I turned on some more music, seeking a bit more peace and calm. I drifted off again around 3:30 AM, knowing that it was enough for the night. I got up, left my phone on the table, brushed my teeth, filled my water bottle, and took small, amusing baby sips as I watched a familiar Netflix series. After about 20 minutes, almost the entire sixth episode, I decided to sleep. I prepared myself as usual, with my head up, but couldn't rest in that position. My thigh itched slightly, and my stomach bothered me a bit from the creamy chocolates I had eaten after stopping by the market on the way home.It was impossible; I couldn't do it! The thought of wanting to travel never crossed my mind, nor the fact that I had listened to the meditation on purpose. I just wanted to rest, although it's true that the peace and joy hidden under that snail's mask were strong enough to show that I didn't want to bury them by going to sleep, walking down the street, or talking to friends and family. I curled up in the fetal position, the one I occasionally use when I wake up at 7 AM to change the course of butt pain from sitting on a rigid sofa. That night, I had to do it for seconds and stayed hugging my hands, touching the butterfly-patterned blanket, my feet together and unmoving due to a mental intuition that didn't leave me even for a few minutes. The tingling, those energetic vibrations, like when you get into a cold shower after being warmed by the previous hot water. That strange and pleasurable sensation was felt in my head for the first time. Maybe it was the position, I don't know, but it's the best pose for this kind of practice in my very limited experience.A few minutes must have passed; it was around 5 AM. I shifted like chewing gum, like gelatin falling from a broken glass. My body was so rigid I didn't even notice or feel that I was alive. I stood up, finding myself in the middle of the living room, facing the shelf filled with my pictures, stuffed animals, and books I don't read. The first impression was as fascinating as it was strange. It's a happiness like the exact description, "if I told you that everything you thought might be a waste of time, a fantastical state of consciousness is real and you are living it." It's a happiness of realizing that I was the one living an experience, standing there in a plane exactly as I imagined, without feeling heavy, without needing to pee, without any pain. The room looked exactly the same as when I left it from my sheets. Dark, visible only by the dim kitchen light. My parents' bedroom door was open as usual, which I always leave open before sleeping due to my father's recurring nightmares. However, the darkness was complete, total, without any hint of light infiltrating the room. It was as if something secretly whispered, "don't cross that corner." I didn't want to look back, didn't want to see myself lying in the corner of my sofa, embraced by my blanket. I was afraid it would end, but at the same time, I was curious if it was real. << Of course it was, I told myself. I felt my legs, my hands, but I didn't peek at them <<. The visibility was somewhat extravagant; what I remember perfectly is how anger confronted me, wanting to see in 4k and only seeing blurry at the edges, clearly only in a square in the center of my supposed eyes. I told myself << "Get used to it, you're already outside." >> That's why I didn't look back; if I already saw poorly, it was because everything I believed was already happening. A series of thoughts crossed my mind like brake-less cars on a highway. >> What if I wake up my mother, although I can't interact with matter. << What if I return to my body and wake her up out of excitement and happiness from these events. But I can't; she'd hit me with her slippers if I disturbed her deep sleep knowing she'd soon wake up for work. Nonetheless, I tried to return, unsure what else to do besides observing the realistic, vivid details despite my annoying blurriness. I rubbed my eyes to improve it, and it seemed like a good idea, but not enough to make a 2k into a third. It felt strange, like touching an energetic substance, rubbing your eyes and feeling energy travel to your center and back, strange and exciting simultaneously.<< What if I go to my room? The dark haze seemed to spread from the floor like a fog, so I left the idea for another time, not wanting to encounter the famous old man who inhabits the house, whom my father once saw during his unexpected journeys, which is another story. Being from the same "unexpected" source, I didn't want to explore the house without energetic protection. I thought of going to my room besides the initial thought; looking for my amethyst bracelet. << You can't interact with matter, you can't put it on. I was lost, made several attempts to return to my body, none successful. I imagined hitting it at the speed of light, leaving a trail of my favorite color "sky blue." It didn't work, so I moved to the kitchen, trying to distance myself from my physical body, which gave off vibrations I didn't like, as if trying to bring me back. I didn't want to leave just like that, only if by my own choice. I moved away, walking without seeing my feet or hands, in that distorted vision. I took two steps, feeling like a slow float, unlike when I fell from the bed; but different from walking like a human, which disintegrated into two steps of the 20 normally taken; already in the kitchen. I stood there, watching the details, like the clock changing time. It's interesting that I don't remember the exact time, only how it moved to the next, really in that plane, time didn't attract my attention at all.Under my insatiable curiosity, I wished to see how I looked despite my poor visibility. So I focused on something I couldn't perceive in real life; the refrigerator. That handle where ice blocks come out, which can be seen as a reassuring reflection, and that's what I did, crouching near it. I saw myself in a halo of light, slightly bluish at the edges of my body. It was me, yes, my body as it is. With the same clothes, hair disheveled in all directions, a scared face, and my sweater well lit with some blurry stains. That's what struck me, cutting the thread of my discovery, marking my fear and the end of my first experience.I don't remember if I woke up around 6 AM or my usual time of noon. That moment was so intense, feeling different, knowing something wasn't normal that early morning. I assumed it as a weird dream not to scare myself, but. Minutes later, as I decided to tell my father about it, mentioning the word "dream," I felt like a liar, a spy of my own experience. << How can you lie to yourself like that, how can you not let yourself be carried by uncertainty, by habit, by beliefs? I changed the word, gave it its true essence. << Dad, I had an astral journey.Part 3: I set out to check, the massive source of seeing and remembering what happened led me to tell my father."Can you tell me if the refrigerator has something where one can reflect?" Yes, this about the threads. "I went and saw it with my own eyes." It's real, something I had no idea about, something I don't notice in my day-to-day life; given that the kitchen is the last place that catches my attention and the one that has given me the most episodes of generalized anxiety just by preparing a dish. The emotion was real; both at that moment and the one already past, I lived that same sensation of being in front of my paintings, in the center of the room with very soft white light, with the unease and peace at the same time. My father went to work around 1:20 in the afternoon, as usual. I enjoyed that iced coffee he prepared; a few minutes before I got up. The hours passed like minutes, I did nothing but sit there, staying with that peace, those sensations of being born again, of knowing where I am, but not how to transport myself. It was already time to dress for university, I prepared my things and walked out the door with a smile. It's incredible how after a while, one becomes so familiar with what happened that it's like a fleeting memory. I remembered every detail with greater precision; unlike remembering clearly the list of mental notes for the week, that phrase that doesn't narrow or shrink in my mind, those stories of the notoriety of being a camera in my projects. I drooled in class, every little biscuit around me was like seeing for the first time, experiencing being beyond human for the first time, believing in the word, in intuition, in the protection of feeling always watched, always guarded, always covered by a shadow with celestial lights, a warm smile, and a blanket of glorious hugs. "Being my own path, my own guide, my dear angel." I left school at just the right time, where the atmosphere was bustling, "Very normal for South Florida." On the way; to cross the street to go to Walmart in front of my school. In that disorientation characterized by extremely high degrees of passion. Passion for life and the glory of acquiring knowledge outside of common sources of realism. A car trapped me on the corner, it didn't wait for me to pass; nor did it signal me. I stared at it grudgingly because of the sunlight characterized in its windows. I let it pass, as it wasn't necessary, it sped by at maximum speed, just like that. Going for some markers to highlight my agenda even more intuitively, more to my taste, was expensive. After I left it waiting on the last entrance street, letting a car know that it wouldn't pass even in jest first. Then right in front of me a woman in the very entrance of sliding doors. She decided to stay there staring at the ceiling covered with metal sheets. I barely gave her permission, honking 3 times to stop; because the woman wouldn't let me pass. She seemed like a piece of plaster in the middle of an experimentation park. I had to go around her side and felt a little sorry; for that push of friction. How is it possible for people to be so agitated, so malicious, so stupidly obtuse?... << it could be the heat, it could be the high prices, it could just be human stupidity to feel like the center of attention. I don't know, I prefer to never know. I had talked to my mother a few hours before classes. I think it was one of the few times I heard "I don't have anxiety, I have a peace that I can't explain, that has accompanied me all day." My mother said to me in words after feeling agitated from hearing the experience "Why do you want to take those kinds of trips?" << I thought silently and didn't say anything. After that incident, after taking the markers to the cafeteria, after spending a 30-minute line; during which the lady in front took an eternity compared to other checkouts; and they were all closed for lack of, I don't know, there was just a yellow circus tape. "<< I knew it, but I didn't tell her in every possible word": I want to feel free from time to time, to have control over what happens to me, to know where I'm going without interruptions, to not depend on anyone or anything to be defenseless <<". Perhaps seeing some entities is not as bad as it seems, they can even be funny if you think that they can take whatever form they want just to scare you. << What form would you take?, what identity would make you a super villain?... That night I slept peacefully, I silently told myself that I didn't want to go out "well, I really never wanted to for now", but just in case sleeping facing the ceiling even if it hurt my buttock a little; I endured it before having to continue writing something that I still couldn't establish; of understanding based on an uncontrollable spark of sufficiency. Friday: It was a casual day, I woke up quite late as usual, badly managed. I started writing the first part with the intuition that it would be the last in a few weeks, but no because no... I stopped to believe that Fridays have become somewhat dense days, it's as if the week stops there to harbor thoughts, dejavus, memories. I had one when preparing my noodle soup. Interesting that, of two bought, the one from Wednesday didn't provoke any feeling. But this Friday was like that, in the act of pouring the sweet sauce and perceiving that past of taking the sharp packet to my mouth to dismantle what little was left of the wonderful sauce, slipping between my teeth; rubbing on my tongue. Last Friday wasn't the best either, thanks to meditation I took charge of feeling cold, frozen, almost a dead body and happy to return to this human consciousness. It's customary to go out to the boulevard and walk around seeing the puppies in the puppy store, go to the bookstore to have a drink and then eat simply at one of the fine restaurants. That's how it was after 3 hours, when my mother had to go make an appointment to get tires for the car. I accompanied her, but the anxiety validated itself more powerfully every time the clock marked steps; a second. After so many reunions with the past, I had to sit down to meditate on the thought, but my mother didn't understand that, she hurried me without knowing what it feels like to leave the house without having marked a point in a continuous sentence. It's something I have to improve, to save a thought for later, leaving me peace in the present, meaning in patience and freedom to pick it up or leave it where I put it.Saturday: I dedicated myself to getting up even later. I had been talking to a good friend who brightens my nights. I wanted to dedicate the day to finishing my writing and not to have to extend it much longer. But that's life, beautiful and unpredictable. Full of lessons where you least expect them, where at any minute something different can happen, something tempting, something that makes us create a phrase, mark a story, or devise a tale that stays etched in our soul. My parents left together for the tire shop, it was 2:30 in the afternoon and I was alone. I spent that time putting on a meditation to calm the mind, about 3 hours that I didn't expect to take up completely. My phone didn't have charge so I didn't mind turning it up on the TV in the living room. After about an hour where I could silence my internal thoughts, where music became my greatest medicine, where the light barely touched the blinds. Those vibrations started again with a touch of strength I hadn't experienced. My whole body began to vibrate, including my head in a position that is not at all comfortable. On the couch, but in that part where a link is raised that is for the feet and one is lying down in an L shape. I felt like I was coming out, my whole body was about 15 centimeters away from my physical body. I resisted, as I had no desire to leave right at that moment when I wanted to dedicate myself to something else. I let myself go. "If I have to leave; then I leave." I still had my eyes closed, and my feet were crossed; there where they rest. I attempted to move and almost stumbled, so I went back in. I raised my hand up, it felt real, and when I opened my eyes out of curiosity; I saw nothing, it was right under my right buttock. Wow, experiencing it as I write it is another story, it's like going back to those wonderful moments, "I don't want to leave, I don't want to leave," I said to myself, "I'm content to be a few centimeters away and float as if lying among the waves." An interference started, it sounded like a dive in the ear. I started to hear two or more people talking to each other, and yes, it was Spanish; but very fast. The fear of the unknown, not of terror. It completely clouded my desire to understand what they were saying. It's the tangible proof I have; that there are several dimensions. In this case, the real world and the astral realm plane. Every time I went in I didn't hear anything, then I made the effort to come back out again by amplifying the vibrations to the maximum and I rose gently, sometimes it was abrupt and without me controlling it. That's how it was about 10 times, where only the sound could remain where I was in trance. "Hello, who are you?" I agreed to say mentally, "I think I made the mistake of making myself present to some spirits who were watching me, who realized that I was already in their territory, or perhaps they had been watching me, exchanging glances." "You, the one who's always sitting there...." I heard that voice of an old woman, somewhat protesting and throwing words at me. The first thing that came to mind was "this is surreal, this woman has spoken to me, I mean I've entered her own world and she's talking to me." She said other words, she kept talking and sometimes I would disconnect and fall back, I would come out again and there she was, I heard her talking to me, only to me in my house full of black layers. I sensed that panic of uncertainty, so I decided not to keep going up... My heart was poor and racing, I ran to the bathroom to pee because I suddenly had the urge. I rested for a while, I called my friend who seemed a bit busy; I had to relax on my own. I drew the curtains, put on my amethyst quartz amulet, played again what had been paused a few seconds ago "that relaxing video of about 3 hours." I dedicated myself to truly going out, I dedicated myself to seeing what I could hear in that immense plane. I was confused, I tested my own existence, I didn't know what to think, what to say, where to go, what to wish for, "my parents arrived." I told them, of course I did. My mother takes everything very literally, leaning towards the very demonic and somewhat terrifying not good to talk to her about, in chaotic or undefined moments. Then she turned the joke around "look for that; the spirits see that you're not doing anything that's why they even want to tell you to get a job." The experience didn't sit well with me, it's like those that you don't imagine; they just happen and that's it. "They get stuck." "I didn't have protection, I know, but I felt that I was always protected. Maybe not from the first moment of trance that I didn't come out, or maybe the Elisas that always accompany me are also there where matter doesn't dwell. I had that thought of leaving it there, of not touching the subject; of leaving myself lying like forgotten, but" ... "I could say that I don't want to try to leave; that now it scares me even more. But I can't stay with only 5% of the story, I can't close myself off to just the black pages of my book. Remember: Beauty has infinite coincidences; if you never dare to dirty your feet with sand you will never be able to feel what it's like to clean them with water."End 🙂...
