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I woke up this morning with one thing on my mind.
Is this real? I am beginning to freak out a little bit. It's like a world of noise and color just pounding against me. The
neighbor yelled. . .the traffic is intense this morning. Maybe some advil will calm me down.
I slide myself to a seated position on the edge of my queen size
bed.
"Aah. . ."
Rubbing my forehead, I complain about the pain.
What was that dream last night? Or was it a dream, I can't remember.
Maybe I should have stayed home last night instead of going to the bar. . .spent some time with my wife while the kids were
sleeping. The guys were great though, I didn't buy a single drink, but they got me drunk anyway. That was a lot of rum, we
played pool and sang along with the lame oldies on the jukebox. . . there was something else, wait. . . no, maybe. I barely
remember last night anyway.
Tick toc, tick toc. I hear the clock, why do I hear the clock? I
never hear the- wait- it stopped. T-i-c-k. . .T-o-c. . .
No, it just slowed way down. Am I okay? I'm looking around my bedroom
trying to get my bearing. It's not real!
"Ha Ha!"
I'm laughing at my own imagination. I just realized this is a dream
too.
"--Click-click--"
"What the-"
I look at my wall, the one dividing my apartment from my neighbors.
I see through it. There is a man with a gun--
"Blam!"
I sit frozen in horror. My neighbor is holding her hand in front
of her, as if the bullet will bounce off of it. Her mouth is twisted into a horrified scream. I watch the bullet create a
sound wave and slowly burst through it, creating a point of accelerated energy. The bullet spun perfectly, red hot from the
friction of the electrons colliding with it.
There was no movement, no sound. But I couldn't help but react.
This was wrong. I grabbed my small file safe and smashed it into the wall. Over and over again until the wallboard was demolished,
and the 2x4 studs splintered out of my way.
I look at my wife. . .
"Still asleep?" I say.
I must stop this tregedy!
I jumped through the hole in the wall, and on my way down, I drag
my terrified neighbor to the floor.
I look up in time to see the bullet soar above our feet. Feathers
from the pillow billow up and never fall. The bullet spins, barely burrowing a hole in to the wall. My neighbor is frozen
in a partial fall where we landed, and the guy with the gun is glaring at where she was sitting.
"t--i--c-. . ."
The clock again, slower now.
"wha-"
I'm confused, I must be dreaming. The world is frozen in time and
I am the time traveller. Too much rum last night.
"AAH!"
My head! What a painful headache!
Why all the pain!
So I took my aggression out on the lone gunman. I ran at him as
hard as I could and tackled him out of the room, down the hall, and through the front door of my neighbor's apartment. I left
him in a puddle of blood on the front lawn. My knuckles would heal faster than his face.
"Okay," I said to the sky, "Wake me up!"
I woke up suddenly, in my bed, and sat up with a gasp.
"oh good," I said with relief, "it was just a dream."
But then I looked around and saw the huge hole in the wall, the chunks of wallboard on the floor and the
dust hanging in the air. My wife still lay sleeping.
"What!?"
I stood up and leaned through the hole in the wall.
"Is everything okay?" I yelled.
Noone responded.
Wiping the plaster dust from my shoulders, I quickly dressed and headed for the front door.
The world was an eerie silence. There was no wind, no sound, no smell. . .
no anything. Standing in my opened entrance to my house, I held my breath in fear. The pounding of my nervous
heart was a duldrum of violent sound against the complete lack-ness of the day.
Slowly, my eyes began to filter light and I saw the earth as it lay, naked and bare. There before me was
a twisted landscape of burnt dirt and charred clay. Huge sections of the earth had been upturned. The mountains had been leveled.
The oceans filled. At places there were puddles of oily murk. But at the exact place where I had left the body of the man
with the gun, was the same man, gurgling blood slowly from his gasping mouth. Beside him kneeled the woman I had saved. She
was weeping and sobbing great sorrowful sobs. She screamed to the sky' "why- aaaaa!"
I stared so confused I couldn't move. I couldn't think. This was too much for my mind to handle.
I stepped back, raising my palms toward the lady. Astonishment etched my face.
"Look, I, I. . ." I stammered, unsure of what I should say. She ignored me and wept into his dead hands.
"I don't understand, I, I. . . Why are you crying?" I managed to form a sentence.
'What is going on?' My head splitting, I dropped to my knees and tried to grip at reality. "What is this?'
I felt like screaming because of the craziness of the whole thing. My mind filled with spasms and streaks of white lightning.
I looked up at her once more. The world began streaking by me on all sides, whirling and rushing. The wind it caused threw
massive clouds of dirt and mud into the air. But I saw her clearly, tears streaking tracks through the dust and blood on her
face. Her mouth did not move, but I heard her words and I will never forget the passion they carried.
"You have forgotten, sir. It is time to remember."
I screamed back, "remember what?"
She looked at me with worry. "It is never permitted to take the life of another, it is time you remember. You and
all your people."
The world folded in on itself and crushed me in its muddy oily embrace. I thought for sure that I was going to die. I
screamed and thrashed against the weight of the entire universe as it imploded over my body.
Lightning streaked across the back of my eyes and I fainted from the pain.Then everything went black, fading through the
shades of gray.
So, can you understand why I am looking for answers other than what I already know? I need some answers beyond what I
have been told before, and I thouht you might give me some leads, or some place to begin. . . I don't know.
I eyed the young man cautiously. He seemed to be telling me the truth. I knew for sure that he had indeed experiencd these
dreams and visions. His auric emannation intrigued me and I wondered if this was how I looked when I first received sight
and opened my eyes.
His visions did not concern me, and I knew enough to know that I would never interpret them for him properly. Visions
and dreams are only truly interpreted by the one who sees them. It was his capacity to learn that concerned me. He seemed
too eager to share these experiences with me, too eager to tell his secrets. This concerned me greatly.
I had listened to his stories for three days now. He had returned at the same time, exactly 3:30, to try to explain to
me his need. he had begun by asking for prayer, which is common. As the pastor of a small church I always took prayer requests.
But something about the way he asked caught my attention. It only took a little prying to get more out of him, he was desperately
searching for answers.
I wondered if it was chance or divine intervention that brought him into my office. Most people that go through this just
end up leaving the felowship for other spipritual pursuits.
I asked him, "I need to know something, just for my own education, but why did you come talk to me about this?"
His face displayed his determination, as he replied,"I know you have the answers. I have seen the things you do with
your mind."
EVERYONE SHOULD WATCH THE MOVIE CALLED 'WAKING LIFE'
IT IS FASCINATING
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