Circus Escape Scenario

I will pray for you ... When you pray for someone ... An angel goes ... And ... Sits on the shoulder of that person !!! Now ... Can you tune in ... A little better ... To your angel ??? Laura

Twenty-one years later, heart loaded with miracles and prayers,
he sets off racing forward into memory
like an ambulance without illusions
to rescue his own source from the context he resides in,
numbing the treasures of pain and pleasure with a fatigued wisdom,
glad to be alive.
"i am supernatural. A rainbow cut through me and left me for dead,
but I live again in the vapor of your lungs,
in the wishes of your passtime; free,
free to roam the hills forever; I call out to the wild
and sometimes it answers back in poems
full of symbols that harrow the darkness.
Home is where the heart is, but when the heart is ripped out of you,
home is where you wish to be, and you go there.
I left behind lives rich with meaning and varied hues,
but they still ring out in the night
and shine with a light brighter that anything on earth.
Go I will, back to the solitude of my country,
where I will project my stories full of wisdom and energy,
and I will expect you to understand."

don't worry, don't be scared, i'm not "evil", I get on ok. I'm a traveling computer networking instructor in the us, in omaha, nebraska this week. I'm schizotypal, not schizophrenic, which means I have "optional schizophrenia", or "schizophrenia lite"; I just turn it on when I want to for entertainment. For my job iu play the role of a normal person who cares about computers and finance and the mundane world. But when I travel on twenty-four hour bus rides across the country, I turn on my shamanic journey drumming tape and travel the universe, conversing with the spirits! Dangerous game...
What is "evil"? I’ve been thinking about this for a while. After 9/11, there was a pbs special: “what is evil?” and watching it, I thought, ‘no, they don’t understand’; a book on the topic was published since, as well as several newspaper essays, when the kids blew up columbine, but I haven’t seen an explanation yet that rings true for me. I wonder if I understand. (i wonder what you think of my explanation…)

there’s “akrasia”, (“akratic action is an action against an intention to perform an action of a particular type here and now, the most challenging species of incontinent action.”) this doesn’t really interest me; its just lack of self-control of the human appetites. I think there’s much more to evil. Akratic action is the human will pushed by external stresses into what it wished to avoid. Demonic action is the religion of evil.

When I read the newspaper and I feel like becoming enraged, I amaze myself at the one-sidedness of all the news coverage – a sniper starts killing people, and all the newscasts say he’s the bad guy. Maybe i’m the world’s most open-minded liberal, but it seems to me it’s a difference of opinion – some guy says certain people should die, others say they should have lived. How can everyone be so sure who’s right, if they’re really objective and honest? It’s usually just a difference of opinion or conflict over access to resources. Russian 19th century radicals argued that a legality based on property rights (such as our culture takes for granted) is evil, contrasting it with a healthy tight-knit simple society in the woods.

Then there’s the quote I have by a survivor of the nazi concentration camps who won the nobel prize for literature a couple of years ago, well worth considering:

“…and please stop saying that auschwitz cannot be explained, the product of irrational, incomprehensible forces, because there is always an explanation for wrong doing: its quite possible that satan himself, like iago, is irrational; his creations, however, are rational creatures indeed; their every action is as soluble as a mathematical formula: it can be solved by reference to an interest, greed, sloth, desire for power, lust, or cowardice, to one or another self-indulgence, and if to nothing else, then, finally to some madman, paranoia, sadism, lust, masochism, demiurgic or other megalomania, necrophilia, or – what do I know – some other perversity or perhaps to all of them simultaneously. On the other hand, and this is important, what is really irrational and what truly cannot be explained is not evil but, contrarily, the good.”

but years ago I found a line in buddhism that captured my imagination: the buddha said “look around you. Except for action for the purpose of sacrifice, all men are constrained to action; therefore, act free from attachment, for no reason.”

in the mid-80’s I met belial, the unholy spirit, and the religion of evil. I got it from early megadeth, early metallica, mid-to-late death, middle entombed, and vision of disorder (that’s all 80’s and 90’s stuff, I guess these days it’s linkin park). Anyway, the difference here is the irrational element; evil as religious practice.

“killer, intruder, homicidal man, if you see me coming run fast as you can; bloodthirsty demon is stalking the streets, I hack up my victims like pieces of meat; bloodthirsty demon, sinister fiend; bludgeonous slaughter, my evil deed… my hammer’s a cold piece of blood-lethal steel, I laugh as you writhe in the pain that I deal; swinging my hammer I hack through your head, bodies in line, next to be dead, I unleash my hammer, with sadistic intent. Pounding, surrounding, slamming through your head… yeah!… bodies to rot in agony and pain, I mangle their face till no features remain, a bread for the butchering I cut them to shreds, first take out the organs then cut off their heads! Remains of the butchering sop under my feet, one more bloody massacre this homicide’s complete. I seek to dismember, a sadist fiend; bloodbath’s my way of getting clean! I lurk in the alley, wait for the kill…. I have no remorse for the blood that I spill… a merciless butcher who lives underground, i’m out to destroy and I will cut you down… I see you, and i’m waiting… for black friday!” megadeth sold a lot of albums. I went to several concerts – it was like a cult.

Around that time I came up with the concept of doing ‘good deeds for the purpose of evil’, and announcing it this way after the fact. Working extra hours, being extra helpful – I once caught a bank robber in new york city, when I was a bike messenger. I had to testify in front of the grand jury. The da was thrilled, and when it came to asking why I had bothered to help, I really freaked her out. (about half the people I said this to were really upset by it, the other half were simple pragmatists.) I once told my wife about this concept, and said I had stored my good deeds that day in the eggs in our refrigerator, where I would convert them to evil overnight and then offer them to satan in the morning. My wife cried, took all the eggs out of the refrigerator and then threw them out the 4th floor apartment window on to the sidewalk below. I said ‘no problem, i’ll just do more good deeds tomorrow’, and that just drover her crazy.

I know what you mean, edge, about the quotes from neighbors on the news – “ I can’t believe I lived next door to someone who was capable of such a thing”, and like you I always think to myself, “well, i’m capable, and i’m right here!” vertigo of possibility, sartre called it; all the knives in this restaurant could be used to create quite the bloody mess. I reserve the right to kill everybody. I even fantasize when venting the reptilian core of my mind, (see the last short story I posted up here, called “this one’ll get me censored”), but I also realize that there’d be consequences to my actions, (that’s the cortex overcoming the core). Shakespeare’s line is “let him fly; the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster”.

When I was bike messenger in new york city, I once noticed a huge group of cops in uniform, maybe a hundred or so, their backs to the public, as they participated in some sort of ceremony on park ave. Vertigo of possibility – one bike messenger with an automatic weapon to the backs of all their heads, what a ruckus that’d cause! And then he gets away on the bike in all the confusion of a city he knows the ins and outs of so well! And all for no reason! That’s evil.

But is it human, edge? (this is where i’m going to get a little weird…)

i realize the following reasoning is somewhat akin to ‘the devil made me do it’, necessarily dismissed by a pragmatic culture, but see what you think…

i have a long-term pet psychosis, which serves me well: I have two souls, one human and one demon. The demon soul was implanted in me in a brutal demon abduction that happened when I was 5, and I remember it vividly to this day – it’s like the stories of ufo abductions. The demon put his two hands inside my back, moving my internal organs around wildly. I now have two families: my “real” family (a mother, a brother, two sisters), and my “demon” family, in the demon world. I exist in both worlds simultaneously. (i’m not alone in this “psychosis”; it’s a worldwide, time-honored traditional concept of shamanism – they call it their “shamanic community”)

in the demon world my family and I do much more than just evil. We live together in a commune, work together, help eachother; but we also go on killing safaris against other demons and humans, as simply considered there as if humans here were to go on vacation, stand in a stream, and go fishing. It’s a cult our commune is a part of – we plant black holes in the universe and detonate them during wartime in the demon world. We kill like monsters, not ‘moral people’; we are the source of cancer in people (we’re just playing a game with you, really. It’s a test, on how you manage your immune system).

At this point you may think i’ve gone off the deep end, because in our culture, the people are fond of saying the ‘demons’ aren’t real; “flesh and blood, flesh and blood, nothing else is real!” (duh!) the demons say the people aren’t real. But I think both sides are lying, as would any two sides at war with eachother over worldly resources may well be expected to do. Because I am a shaman, and straddle both worlds, and my spiritual guide is the universe itself, which holds both light and dark like a big yin-yang symbol – made up of brilliant balls of light and vast swaths of darkness, as well as the ultimately dark ‘black holes’ – I let my being be the unification of the opposites. Light and dark. Demon world and human world.

Knowing all this, I watched a special on a kid who who and killed some other kids at his school. I found there was a huge lack of understanding in the courtroom:

his mother had ‘left him behind’ when he was very young – he thinks that’s why it all happened; I think he’s onto something, but it’s much more complex.

He said “i don’t know what happened in my core”; here’s what I think happened – a schizotypal person pursues mysteries of every kind and composes solutions; he’s a mystagogue, a hierophant. And shamans know that the scene of a hierophany opens a hole between the worlds. God can look down, and demons can crawl up through the hole. Graham nash (“a beautiful mind”) was working on mathematical mysteries, and several characters came out to haunt him with their unreal stories. I’ve seen may schizophrenia patients in the hospitals completely given over to these demons that come out from this hole at the center of the mind, the ‘gates of hell’, the demon world. I know these demons well, but I use my own energy to keep them caged, so that I can hold a job and pass through society accessing resources without anyone suspecting. But it does take energy. And energy fluctuates in life. Stressful situations tax the energy supply, and the prison walls in the mind can falter, can even collapse.

The kid in court admitted that he had smiled as he shot down his classmates. “were you crazy?” a tv interviewer asked. “i don’t think so – that’s not the word,” he said, “it’s more like an out of body experience.” he said he smiled because he ‘belonged’. He ‘belonged’ to the spirit of evil, the demon world. There had been a humiliation by a teacher. The shield went down during the subsequent energy drop, and the demon world leaked out – “all hell broke loose”.

“was it bullying?”, the interviewer asked. He looked surprised – “of course not.” he had put linkin park lyrics in his farewell letter.

He says he’s sorry, and cries, and says it was worse on his side of the gun – even he doesn’t understand.

The concept of unity, like the yin-yang symbol in taoism, (which grew out of eastern shamanism), actually pre-dates the rather recent attempted splitting of mankind’s nature into ‘good’ and ‘evil’, which first occurred in zoroastrianism, and evolved into the judeo-christian-islamic culture much of our world is caught up in today.

For me, the universe we are so graciously presented with is the truest ‘bible’, and in astrophysics there’s no such thing as ‘evil’ or ‘ruins’; when a star explodes, we call it a ‘supernova’, enriching the interstellar medium with heavy elements previously concealed in the stellar core. And we don’t think of the exploding universe as an initial singularity in ‘ruins’, destroyed by evil.

I saw the latest copy of newscientist had an article on just that, so I read it. They point out that a violent person has a tendency to have diminished activity in the orbitofrontal cortex, and yes, they are still human. But the fascinating point is that my demon theory fits right in between the lines of that article. They way yes, the violent offenders can be spotted on the brain scan, but not the serial killers!. They admit that, though violent, antisocial behavior based on a low-functioning orbitofrontalcortex is genetic, the serial killer type is not. Those people have the same functioning on a pet scan as everyone else. What they do tend to have is a history of child abuse as a kid, or atleast a hard childhood. This is what is known to create a schizotypal mind, which is what creates the storm that astrates the hole to the demon world.

They ask, "so what does the serial killer lack?", compared to regular people. They answer "empathy", but they're way off. The answer is energy. C'mon, you, edge, can write a poem like this but i'm sure you can show empathy in the appropriate situation, if your survival or your access to resources counts on it. That's why the serial killer can get away with it for so long... They act nomal, have a wife and kids. Go see "taking lives", great movie. He fits the profile perfectly. And so do i.

Rational vs irrational you are really beginning to get on my wholesome nerves !!! " hate that which is evil" ... Like hitler with our jewish brothers and sisters !!! I 'll give you something rational to think about !!! Hate for that which is cruel ... Like kkk members is the concomitent ( or, the same thing as ) of love now go out there and be a good good boy !!! Your adopted mother, laura

Having read what you've just shared has left me feeling a bit sick.If what your writing is your true experience's then I recommend you turn to jesus in order to save your soul. Christian counselling is helpful and if you have demons like you say they can be sent back to where they came from{hell usually}.If what your saying isnt true, then you have a good ability to write, maybe you should try writing about more positive things instead of dwelling on such dark things.You do need help its just wether you want it{and I pray to god that you do}.

I have talked to jesus. I was baptised catholic. Spoke with the angels in the cathedrals, they taught me how to pray. Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's a very big one, a warden in the prison that contains the demons. And if you want the life of comfort, then bow down to him, worship him and swear to abort and exclude other demons, and he will give you pleasure and comfort. But stand up and fight him, and he fights just like a demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's doing. He needs help. I try to go to him but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light. Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an aztec shamaness who fougt in the war against panchovilla using magic. My father was a german jesuit priest. Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth religion and a sky religion crashing into eachother.

But thanks for your attention and interest. Want to hear more about the adventures of a red magic shaman in the way out there?

Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple of big bags, I was in a big basement where a demon sat writing at a desk across the room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug stung me. I threw out the rest of the beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly because the aura of the environment just doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour in the reclining chair, until my ride to whatever i’d been packing for, but when I woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of kids what time it was, day or night 11:15, disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my sister to drive me, but she said she’d never see me again. Eventually my mom drives me, along on a ride with a bus full of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot, and I remembered he had done the same thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon, so I threw him off the bus, and his body fell down a long way; I saw him fall and then die on impact. I was surprised that everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and talk loudly trying to send myself a message, but I apparently can’t get through. As we continue to walk down the block and approach a corner, I try to fly, and to do magic by throwing stuff up in the air, but the priest stops me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it seems to be some sort of commune, a large apartment where several people live and work, and only a small portion of them are actually here right now. Sitting down the priest asks, “what do you notice about the room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted into the wall. “what else?” amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very good!”
i wander into the next room and in a moment I come back out and say “not the bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman walks into the room and smiles. She says I remind her of someone. She and I walk into the dining room and we sit down with her husband. The couple seems russian and appears to get along well, though they are both older looking; I ask his name, and he gives none. The woman has a name for him though, and when I ask she points out that they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath his feet. Seeing some of the other, smaller, plain white statues and assorted paints scattered on the floor in the living room, I got the idea that the statue the priest had given me was meant to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in the same room as the table. As I walked past him, he said toward me, “a lot of bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the table, I said I intend to remember everything I see here, and the priest commented that most people can’t even remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a patio door, and there were several people gathered out on the patio, maybe about twenty people, and they seemed to be having a party. The priest and I decided to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts going down, sideways and backwards, approaching a distance of only a few buildings, and everyone panics and starts to run inside, and so do i. I was wondering about the safety of being in the structure of the building if it collapses, but I keep going, even when someone behind me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I are going back in to get people’s stuff, after the dust has settled, and on the way up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and stairs. I gather my statue, some paints, then my clothes, then I start to gather some of the women’s pocketbooks on my cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest, while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And suddenly I wake up.
A few nights after the experience with the shaman there was a supernatural dream. It was like a whole movie. The dream begins with me sitting in a movie theatre, watching a movie, and there are several other people watching too, but the theatre isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a sudden, some kids, mostly very young, maybe a few teenagers, come running in from the back of the theatre, past me, and up around the back of the stage. There were about thirty to forty kids, but the speed of the stampede was other than natural. And I sensed extreme fear. They had just passed, and disappeared behind the screen, and no one else in the audience seemed to care, but I got the feeling that whatever scared them into running like that, it might threaten me, too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up several flights of stairs, running and getting more scared myself. The kids all reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the top and it’s the end of the line, so everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really hiding too well, just in their seats, with their heads down.
A moment later a few adults come in, and turn on the lights; they see everybody, and start picking out different ones and calling to each other, and also yelling out some chant at everyone. These are the people the kids were running from. I get picked, among other people, and i’m asked, or told, to do an operation on someone, and asked if I can be ready in three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the other kids around me, a packet, with maybe a scalpel and a syringe and some medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us now is something like “we give you the power of life and death, but you have to use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if I can make it ten minutes from now instead of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of balconies up in this movie theatre, all behind the screen, and each lower level is a little farther out, and there are big golden bars, so you can jump, holding on to the bars, and it’s a series of small leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a middle level that’s much bigger than the others, like the concession stand area. I get that far, and they catch up with me. I’m not the only one who tried to get away, there are two or three others, and we’re all cornered on this large, middle balcony.
The chasers stand in the middle of the floor talk calmly to us, then pull up chairs and sit down and lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager disciplining and employee in his office. But I and one or two other kids are in the corner, standing on top of something, and there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash the glass punch bowl, and we all start throwing the sharp chunks of glass at these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out of the three managers get up calmly, looking disappointed, and walk away. The one main guy walks forward, walks straight up to me, talking sternly and more forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass right into his forehead. Blood comes out, but he continues talking and talking, like nothing happened. Now I and the other two kids are really scared, and we must have looked confused, because he breaks his monologue for a second, pulls the glass out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then he starts pulling all the flesh of his head apart and off, and his skull is showing through, and he’s still talking, saying something like “this doesn’t matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally frightened by this, and we’re corralled, brought back to the top floor where everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened next. Some time went by, but I decided to make another run for it. I start swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars, going down the different levels again. They start chasing me again, but not that hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but they’re right behind me. But i’m trying harder this time, and I have more momentum going, and as i’m getting near the bottom levels, I see some people on the side I recognize. I touch their faces as I go by to make sure they’re real, and they are, and it feels reassuring, at least I have witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I come out a door into the lobby of the real movie theatre, out of that whole supernatural realm. The three pursuers are right behind me, and they follow me out into the natural realm. But several movie theatre employees see them, and it’s like they’ve always known who they were but couldn’t chase them into their own realm. They see these three guys, and they gather around each and stamp them to death on the floor of the lobby, chanting “flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s like as soon as they followed me out into the lobby of the real movie theatre they were mortal, and totally vulnerable and easy to kill. I looked at the splattered bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer, just me hanging out in the lobby and doing stuff. And when the shift was over, all the employees gathered by me smiling to say goodbye, and congratulations. And I looked at all their faces and I recognized them from somewhere, but I don’t know where.
She and her children were poor, and when the man and woman at the door said they were government agents and needed to speak with her son and daughter about a very serious matter, she had a resigned look and sound, like "those kids in some crazy trouble again", and after letting them in went back about the hectic business of dealing with the kids in another part of the house.
A short while later one of the agents came over to them holding a thermos cup with the lid on, looking even more serious than before, and said, "we need to show something to your son now, would you mind if he listened to this?"
the crazy kids kept running around, and the son went with the agents downstairs to the living room. He seemed very excited about the opportunity to communicate like this, and so was his sister, who knew she was next, and was hurriedly trying to get the cat in the basement out through the yard in time to escape.
The boy was given the thermos cup and he held it in his two hands, carefully taking the top off. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he put his ear to the soup inside. He listened to a couple of garbled lines, which the agents overheard, then the agents quickly took the cup away and went back to work on it in another room.
The mother went with the agents for a moment because they looked so serious and concerned, then, a little more serious herself, she came out and asked if any of the kids had been overseas recently; maybe when they were with their father, but they said, "of course not, we haven't gone anywhere."
meanwhile the girl had made sure that the cat had escaped but it had already come back again and was running all around the huge basement like a maniac.
The agents came back in to the mother and said "ok, now we've got it, he can talk to him", and the boy went into the next room again.
He listened to a couple of garbled lines, at first having no idea what was going on but figuring it out pretty quickly. He asked if he could talk back, and the two agents looked at eachother, then the female agent said to the man, "i guess it's his right", and the boy carefully put the cup of soup near his mouth and started yelling into it excitedly. "i'm here!", he began. "everything is going fine! You'll never find the cat, he's been gone a long time, the dog chased him away like he always does! I can't believe you called, I can't believe i'm talking to you!..."
the boy kept yelling into the soup and he knew what was going on and what would happen when another phone rang and the female agent went to answer it. It was another small thermos of soup, and as the woman put it to her ear and listened the boy watched the amazed look come over her face when she realized that what she was hearing in the second container was the same thing the boy next to her was yelling.
And now he was really talking to the two agents in a final exclamation before the big getaway, when he yelled into the first container, "that's right, it's me, of course it's me, and you want to know how I do it? I come outside of my body and I dance around and yell like crazy, that's how it's done!"
then he ran downstairs and got there just in time as his sister, the dog, and the skinny little cat went running out the back door and down the rocks.
Had a dream, like an encounter with the devil: we're all in one part of the house, one kid is crying in another room, he's sitting by a well opening; we check and he's ok, but he keeps crying and calling us over. Because of something he saw down there? So we smash the well opening and install a steel lock. But he still cries. Out through the steel lock pops a character, and I take a stick and swing at the character. It becomes more and more obvious that it goes right through the character, right through the lock. There's a tv near the lock. Somehow it's becoming obvious that before we tried to put the lock on the well-hole, there was a balance of good and bad, and no matter what we do, that balance persists. The guy running around out of the hole says, "that's why no good deed remains unpunished". We try to make a better world, and a tv world pops up like a simulacrum with all bad. So much evil on the tv is dispelling it from happening in our world?
But right at the end I took a shot at the character with the stick in the other room, and rather than going through him, he skedaddled over to the room with the locked hole, where it went through him again. After this dream I was extremely allergic with "ghost bugs", and had to get up and take a thera flu. Last time I felt this way I later thought it might have been a supernatural encounter. I think it was a meeting with the devil and I think he tried to make a point, but I don't think I should believe his point. Rather, do only good and let god do the balancing, which will put all the bad on him, in hell. So he comes out to say "you have to do bad for all the good you do, you have to have a balance somehow", to get it off himself. Ignore him.
While I am awake I may be schizotypal but I am not schizophrenic; I know the difference between dreams and reality, even if half the significant stuff that happens to me in life happens in dreams. But when I am asleep, I go over the edge. “the despicable devil gets you at your most defenseless – when you’re sleeping”, elissa said. While I am dreaming I don’t have the extra function that keeps me seemingly sane. I get confused about what’s real. There are regular dreams but then there are supernatural dreams, and in the supernatural dreams I can seem schizophrenic.
There was some demon in the bathroom of a big house, so when he was in there with the door closed, I slipped some paper under the door, as an attack. Then I ran out of the house and kept running through the neighborhood with big homes and very wide streets. I had thought I would have more time, but the demon was right behind me, so I had no time to hide; I thought I would find someone and ask for help, so I looked around at people’s living rooms with the tv on while I ran through the street, but I thought I wouldn’t have enough time to get in, so I ran toward a park and I saw a police car going into an area enclosed with a fence, so I went there for protection. A cop with a big dog was looking for a criminal he couldn’t find, and when he saw me, he was corrupt and decided to kill me saying I had been the person he was looking for. So I killed the dog and killed the cop and chopped them up and buried them in the park. (the demon chasing me never showed again. I had done his will, I think.)
then I went back to my family, but the next morning my sister’s cat was missing, and I knew I had killed it, thinking it was that dog, and I felt very guilty, but I acted like I didn’t know where he was and went out and pretended to look for him. The person I had killed was really the philippino fiancé of someone else in the group, and she didn’t know where he was, and I felt very bad about that also.
Then he came back! He had lived, but he was very badly damaged, and didn’t remember what had happened. So not only did I feel guilty, but I was frightened that I would be caught for what I had done. Time went on looking for the cat, and the fiancé had a stroke and said he felt like he was sinking to the ground. I thought I should tell his fiancé that he was going to die and this would be her last time with him, but I didn’t because I was scared.
Eventually I was going on a business trip, and it seemed a couple of guys knew what I had done and weren’t telling but were torturing me. One said, “what are you packing there? He’s got dead bodies in the bag!” but I said “no, it’s just some papers I need”, and I was worried that my cell phone would be found with the chopped up body of the cat with my name on it. The guy next to me said “maybe we should get a bunch of people to search the park” but I still acted like I didn’t know anything.
When I woke up I felt so regretful of everything, and noticed elissa was having a rough time too.
I had just parked the car and gotten out on an unfamiliar looking block, looking for the address of a kid's birthday party. A kid on the street asked me what I was doing, looking up and down the block at everyone's house, and I explained but he didn't seem to believe me; he said that address didn't exist, and he was harassing me, so I was relieved when I saw another parent and her two kids, whom I recognized, also arriving and getting out of their car. Since we couldn't find the address, I went off by myself to look through some other things that seemed to be mine in a mailbox. When I came back I saw the local boy again, but not the parent and her two kids, so I asked if they had finally found the address. He said yes, he finally found it, and led me to where it was. We went through alleys and climbed in windows and out back doors, and I was thinking 'something's wrong', then in an apartment in the corner there was a big wooden box with an "exit" sign on top of it. The boy opened the box and turned on the tv that was inside, and said "that's where they all are". The tv playing showed several cakes, one at a time, coming out from behind curtains, with the names of the people I had recognized written at the bottom of the screen, one below each cake. The voice-over announcer said "come on in, it's time to die; everyone already died, it's time for you to die". I knew better that to go inside the tv, but the boy who had brought me here insisted, and led the way, jumping into the tv. In an aggressive attack, I quickly reached over and turned off the tv; the boy shouted "no!!!!" and started jumping back out, but seemed to be caught half-formed because the tv had finished going off before he had completely gotten out. I turned and ran, trying to find a faster way out than the way we came in, but all the doors were locked, there weren't any windows, and another exit sign in the bedroom was another tv in a wooden box. I finally got out through a back door into an apartment building hallway, but the boy was now a giant demon and right behind me, chasing me and getting pretty close. I went flying down the stairs, swinging from the poles of the banister and barely touching the stairs, but he was still right behind, and I woke up.
Thirty years after the soul was implanted in my back, when I was 35, my demon soul matured and blossomed, and I joined my family in the demon world.
It takes place in a crater. I walk by a skull on a stick next to three other sticks in a square formation, and an arched piece of wood across the top of the skull, and a crow standing on top of the wood turned to the side. I thought ‘is it a threat?, like 'you go here too’? Then I thought ‘no, his spirit guides me; a powerful shaman leaves his skull, sometimes multiple skulls, to continue to guide the society. This one came to the event. It looks like woodstock but everyone is in colorful war paint and indian headdress, and a central spectacle occurs, way better than any rock festival. It's wild like a rock festival but really a much more powerful religious event, where they actually use the enthusiasm of the surrounding crowd to perform miracles. Sitting, colorfully dressed, one indian holds two rattles on a stick, like balloons, while looking the other way, waves them together, slowly across right to left; as they go by, inside them, another movie takes place, in a different, vividly bright dimension. What’s going on in there? The genome!
I walk through the crowd to the backstage, then down an aisle on the stage surrounded by old iron junk. At the center of all the commotion and with everyone's attention on me, I inhabit a counter-rotating nucleus in relation to the giant disk of observers around me. I walk toward the front of the stage, toward the crowd, throwing the objects around me up in the air, and everything hovers - typewriters, office equipment, telephones, wooden boards, utensils - and the crowd roars! Everyone is spinning one way, and at the very bright center there is a sudden shift, and it swings around the other way, as the one central eye gazes into the night, its holy voice singing in the sacrificial prayer for grace, calm, wisdom, and beauty.
Apparently doing this magic has convinced the demons that I have come of age, and my family takes me to show me more – an array of colors and marks is revealed within any wall around them by scratching in a certain sequence of directions, some with the left hand and some with the right hand, and a colorful message appears and disappears. I try it myself but its not really working; just barely; all of them walk over to me and one explains verbally while another shows another colorful diagram, like it has to do with the genome, and a special pattern reveals a circular set of letters ‘human master’; rub it and it shows, rub it differently and it goes away again, and a female voice says “show him the genome” but we get distracted and all through the rest of the dream I was waiting for this direct instruction but it never came. On the way out of the room she did say “you just have to experiment”, and that her brothers had found they could do certain things because they had more alveoli on their genome.
We left to watch what seemed like a movie, where a girl auditions to be the nanny of a bunch of rich kids; she does very well by showing she already knows all about them, and serves pizza. The one daughter isn’t eating though, while the kids and guests are eating the pizza – she’s listening carefully to the wall and sitting on a chair with her feet up. She listens and taps out a pattern with her toes very complex, like fingers on a typewriter. What she is listening to is this part of the movie that we’re all going to see next. She sounds very excited; her father and mother are in the other room she is listening to, and the father is small like a monkey but shaped and dressed like george washington; she says “my father was… (something) !” sounding very amazed.
We go to another room to see this new information in a movie, but as one amazing part comes, i’m the only one who sees it and they are all in the other room. I see these skeletons come through the wall. They’re ancestors bestowing magic. I stop the movie and call the others in. I rewind it a little, but apparently not enough. It’s like a movie but we see it taking place live in the room before us and with us. I play it back, but to me every time it seems a little bit different. We all see the skeletons again and they say I should rewind it more and play it back again. As i’m rewinding, a woman says, “that’s amazing, we all could be one person.” another says, “they were immigrants. I had thought they had originated here; they immigrated to idaho first.”
the movie is rewound more this time. People are at a train station. The butler cooks and serves the food to everyone. The children are gathered together and put in an elevator at the train station, gathered up by fun-stuff-dressed-up characters and balloons. Someone in the audience next to me says, “just like a t a bar mitzvah”. Then the selected children go down in the elevator, and i’m down there with them, and these flying monkey skeletons come up out of a doorway, flying over each of us, each one of them in succession, bigger and bigger ones, and tap each of us twice on the head; this seems to be the bestowing of some kind of magic power. After this two big skeletons come through the wall, and they seem to transform as they move, amazing everybody, eventually ending up in a kind of george washington form. After the movie I go walking around the house of these magical kids, my brothers and sisters, and look at embroideries each one has done. One of them said ‘we don’t eat meat because it’s each other’s flesh’. One was about me, and said something about zen. I forgot what most of them said but I got the idea, as I walked up the stairs of the house, that these are our souls, we have been bestowed with these magic souls, and that’s what the skeletons were.
There was one big piece of furniture that was the size of a piano but full of water and it had three stories of rocks and caves, and it had a saying near the top – I forgot what it was but something about balance – and I rocked it back and forth and wondered why the water didn’t spill out, though as it continued to rock after I stopped I worried a little but then noticed it seemed to crash up like waves in the back and take care of itself.
I went upstairs and saw some of the kids. I was going to ask again about the genome but didn’t get the chance. The butler was cleaning up and the kids were playing. A little girl asked the butler if she could play, he said yes and she started ironing on the floor next to me. I made the comment that I do that kind of playing every day, and an older boy sitting down on the floor to the other side of me asked why, and I explained for suits and shirts, but he said even for that there was an easier way, just pinching it, but he didn’t really explain, and he was putting on a pair of sneakers like mine but metallic color, and I was thinking ‘oh I guess I should start getting them in metallic color’ (silver).

I have talked to jesus. I was baptised catholic. Spoke with the angels in the cathedrals, they taught me how to pray. Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's a very big one, a warden in the prison that contains the demons. And if you want the life of comfort, then bow down to him, worship him and swear to abort and exclude other demons, and he will give you pleasure and comfort. But stand up and fight him, and he fights just like a demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's doing. He needs help. I try to go to him but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light. Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an aztec shamaness who fougt in the war against panchovilla using magic. My father was a german jesuit priest. Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth religion and a sky religion crashing into eachother.
And as a sage and a shaman I like to look at the truth, and unite the worlds - I span the human and the demon world, and I am the host of a game show, "testing for justice", where I am a supreme court justice in the demon world and millions of demon communes and warring tribes are watching as I interact with unsuspecting humans, opeing myself up for injustice and seeing if they will take the bait, or if they will be just and win the game.

But thanks for your attention and interest. Want to hear more about the adventures of a red magic shaman in the way out there?

Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple of big bags, I was in a big basement where a demon sat writing at a desk across the room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug stung me. I threw out the rest of the beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly because the aura of the environment just doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour in the reclining chair, until my ride to whatever i’d been packing for, but when I woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of kids what time it was, day or night 11:15, disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my sister to drive me, but she said she’d never see me again. Eventually my mom drives me, along on a ride with a bus full of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot, and I remembered he had done the same thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon, so I threw him off the bus, and his body fell down a long way; I saw him fall and then die on impact. I was surprised that everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and talk loudly trying to send myself a message, but I apparently can’t get through. As we continue to walk down the block and approach a corner, I try to fly, and to do magic by throwing stuff up in the air, but the priest stops me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it seems to be some sort of commune, a large apartment where several people live and work, and only a small portion of them are actually here right now. Sitting down the priest asks, “what do you notice about the room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted into the wall. “what else?” amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very good!”
i wander into the next room and in a moment I come back out and say “not the bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman walks into the room and smiles. She says I remind her of someone. She and I walk into the dining room and we sit down with her husband. The couple seems russian and appears to get along well, though they are both older looking; I ask his name, and he gives none. The woman has a name for him though, and when I ask she points out that they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath his feet. Seeing some of the other, smaller, plain white statues and assorted paints scattered on the floor in the living room, I got the idea that the statue the priest had given me was meant to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in the same room as the table. As I walked past him, he said toward me, “a lot of bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the table, I said I intend to remember everything I see here, and the priest commented that most people can’t even remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a patio door, and there were several people gathered out on the patio, maybe about twenty people, and they seemed to be having a party. The priest and I decided to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts going down, sideways and backwards, approaching a distance of only a few buildings, and everyone panics and starts to run inside, and so do i. I was wondering about the safety of being in the structure of the building if it collapses, but I keep going, even when someone behind me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I are going back in to get people’s stuff, after the dust has settled, and on the way up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and stairs. I gather my statue, some paints, then my clothes, then I start to gather some of the women’s pocketbooks on my cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest, while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And suddenly I wake up.
A few nights after the experience with the shaman there was a supernatural dream. It was like a whole movie. The dream begins with me sitting in a movie theatre, watching a movie, and there are several other people watching too, but the theatre isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a sudden, some kids, mostly very young, maybe a few teenagers, come running in from the back of the theatre, past me, and up around the back of the stage. There were about thirty to forty kids, but the speed of the stampede was other than natural. And I sensed extreme fear. They had just passed, and disappeared behind the screen, and no one else in the audience seemed to care, but I got the feeling that whatever scared them into running like that, it might threaten me, too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up several flights of stairs, running and getting more scared myself. The kids all reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the top and it’s the end of the line, so everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really hiding too well, just in their seats, with their heads down.
A moment later a few adults come in, and turn on the lights; they see everybody, and start picking out different ones and calling to each other, and also yelling out some chant at everyone. These are the people the kids were running from. I get picked, among other people, and i’m asked, or told, to do an operation on someone, and asked if I can be ready in three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the other kids around me, a packet, with maybe a scalpel and a syringe and some medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us now is something like “we give you the power of life and death, but you have to use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if I can make it ten minutes from now instead of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of balconies up in this movie theatre, all behind the screen, and each lower level is a little farther out, and there are big golden bars, so you can jump, holding on to the bars, and it’s a series of small leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a middle level that’s much bigger than the others, like the concession stand area. I get that far, and they catch up with me. I’m not the only one who tried to get away, there are two or three others, and we’re all cornered on this large, middle balcony.
The chasers stand in the middle of the floor talk calmly to us, then pull up chairs and sit down and lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager disciplining and employee in his office. But I and one or two other kids are in the corner, standing on top of something, and there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash the glass punch bowl, and we all start throwing the sharp chunks of glass at these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out of the three managers get up calmly, looking disappointed, and walk away. The one main guy walks forward, walks straight up to me, talking sternly and more forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass right into his forehead. Blood comes out, but he continues talking and talking, like nothing happened. Now I and the other two kids are really scared, and we must have looked confused, because he breaks his monologue for a second, pulls the glass out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then he starts pulling all the flesh of his head apart and off, and his skull is showing through, and he’s still talking, saying something like “this doesn’t matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally frightened by this, and we’re corralled, brought back to the top floor where everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened next. Some time went by, but I decided to make another run for it. I start swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars, going down the different levels again. They start chasing me again, but not that hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but they’re right behind me. But i’m trying harder this time, and I have more momentum going, and as i’m getting near the bottom levels, I see some people on the side I recognize. I touch their faces as I go by to make sure they’re real, and they are, and it feels reassuring, at least I have witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I come out a door into the lobby of the real movie theatre, out of that whole supernatural realm. The three pursuers are right behind me, and they follow me out into the natural realm. But several movie theatre employees see them, and it’s like they’ve always known who they were but couldn’t chase them into their own realm. They see these three guys, and they gather around each and stamp them to death on the floor of the lobby, chanting “flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s like as soon as they followed me out into the lobby of the real movie theatre they were mortal, and totally vulnerable and easy to kill. I looked at the splattered bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer, just me hanging out in the lobby and doing stuff. And when the shift was over, all the employees gathered by me smiling to say goodbye, and congratulations. And I looked at all their faces and I recognized them from somewhere, but I don’t know where.
She and her children were poor, and when the man and woman at the door said they were government agents and needed to speak with her son and daughter about a very serious matter, she had a resigned look and sound, like "those kids in some crazy trouble again", and after letting them in went back about the hectic business of dealing with the kids in another part of the house.
A short while later one of the agents came over to them holding a thermos cup with the lid on, looking even more serious than before, and said, "we need to show something to your son now, would you mind if he listened to this?"
the crazy kids kept running around, and the son went with the agents downstairs to the living room. He seemed very excited about the opportunity to communicate like this, and so was his sister, who knew she was next, and was hurriedly trying to get the cat in the basement out through the yard in time to escape.
The boy was given the thermos cup and he held it in his two hands, carefully taking the top off. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he put his ear to the soup inside. He listened to a couple of garbled lines, which the agents overheard, then the agents quickly took the cup away and went back to work on it in another room.
The mother went with the agents for a moment because they looked so serious and concerned, then, a little more serious herself, she came out and asked if any of the kids had been overseas recently; maybe when they were with their father, but they said, "of course not, we haven't gone anywhere."
meanwhile the girl had made sure that the cat had escaped but it had already come back again and was running all around the huge basement like a maniac.
The agents came back in to the mother and said "ok, now we've got it, he can talk to him", and the boy went into the next room again.
He listened to a couple of garbled lines, at first having no idea what was going on but figuring it out pretty quickly. He asked if he could talk back, and the two agents looked at eachother, then the female agent said to the man, "i guess it's his right", and the boy carefully put the cup of soup near his mouth and started yelling into it excitedly. "i'm here!", he began. "everything is going fine! You'll never find the cat, he's been gone a long time, the dog chased him away like he always does! I can't believe you called, I can't believe i'm talking to you!..."
the boy kept yelling into the soup and he knew what was going on and what would happen when another phone rang and the female agent went to answer it. It was another small thermos of soup, and as the woman put it to her ear and listened the boy watched the amazed look come over her face when she realized that what she was hearing in the second container was the same thing the boy next to her was yelling.
And now he was really talking to the two agents in a final exclamation before the big getaway, when he yelled into the first container, "that's right, it's me, of course it's me, and you want to know how I do it? I come outside of my body and I dance around and yell like crazy, that's how it's done!"
then he ran downstairs and got there just in time as his sister, the dog, and the skinny little cat went running out the back door and down the rocks.
Had a dream, like an encounter with the devil: we're all in one part of the house, one kid is crying in another room, he's sitting by a well opening; we check and he's ok, but he keeps crying and calling us over. Because of something he saw down there? So we smash the well opening and install a steel lock. But he still cries. Out through the steel lock pops a character, and I take a stick and swing at the character. It becomes more and more obvious that it goes right through the character, right through the lock. There's a tv near the lock. Somehow it's becoming obvious that before we tried to put the lock on the well-hole, there was a balance of good and bad, and no matter what we do, that balance persists. The guy running around out of the hole says, "that's why no good deed remains unpunished". We try to make a better world, and a tv world pops up like a simulacrum with all bad. So much evil on the tv is dispelling it from happening in our world?
But right at the end I took a shot at the character with the stick in the other room, and rather than going through him, he skedaddled over to the room with the locked hole, where it went through him again. After this dream I was extremely allergic with "ghost bugs", and had to get up and take a thera flu. Last time I felt this way I later thought it might have been a supernatural encounter. I think it was a meeting with the devil and I think he tried to make a point, but I don't think I should believe his point. Rather, do only good and let god do the balancing, which will put all the bad on him, in hell. So he comes out to say "you have to do bad for all the good you do, you have to have a balance somehow", to get it off himself. Ignore him.
While I am awake I may be schizotypal but I am not schizophrenic; I know the difference between dreams and reality, even if half the significant stuff that happens to me in life happens in dreams. But when I am asleep, I go over the edge. “the despicable devil gets you at your most defenseless – when you’re sleeping”, elissa said. While I am dreaming I don’t have the extra function that keeps me seemingly sane. I get confused about what’s real. There are regular dreams but then there are supernatural dreams, and in the supernatural dreams I can seem schizophrenic.
There was some demon in the bathroom of a big house, so when he was in there with the door closed, I slipped some paper under the door, as an attack. Then I ran out of the house and kept running through the neighborhood with big homes and very wide streets. I had thought I would have more time, but the demon was right behind me, so I had no time to hide; I thought I would find someone and ask for help, so I looked around at people’s living rooms with the tv on while I ran through the street, but I thought I wouldn’t have enough time to get in, so I ran toward a park and I saw a police car going into an area enclosed with a fence, so I went there for protection. A cop with a big dog was looking for a criminal he couldn’t find, and when he saw me, he was corrupt and decided to kill me saying I had been the person he was looking for. So I killed the dog and killed the cop and chopped them up and buried them in the park. (the demon chasing me never showed again. I had done his will, I think.)
then I went back to my family, but the next morning my sister’s cat was missing, and I knew I had killed it, thinking it was that dog, and I felt very guilty, but I acted like I didn’t know where he was and went out and pretended to look for him. The person I had killed was really the philippino fiancé of someone else in the group, and she didn’t know where he was, and I felt very bad about that also.
Then he came back! He had lived, but he was very badly damaged, and didn’t remember what had happened. So not only did I feel guilty, but I was frightened that I would be caught for what I had done. Time went on looking for the cat, and the fiancé had a stroke and said he felt like he was sinking to the ground. I thought I should tell his fiancé that he was going to die and this would be her last time with him, but I didn’t because I was scared.
Eventually I was going on a business trip, and it seemed a couple of guys knew what I had done and weren’t telling but were torturing me. One said, “what are you packing there? He’s got dead bodies in the bag!” but I said “no, it’s just some papers I need”, and I was worried that my cell phone would be found with the chopped up body of the cat with my name on it. The guy next to me said “maybe we should get a bunch of people to search the park” but I still acted like I didn’t know anything.
When I woke up I felt so regretful of everything, and noticed elissa was having a rough time too.
I had just parked the car and gotten out on an unfamiliar looking block, looking for the address of a kid's birthday party. A kid on the street asked me what I was doing, looking up and down the block at everyone's house, and I explained but he didn't seem to believe me; he said that address didn't exist, and he was harassing me, so I was relieved when I saw another parent and her two kids, whom I recognized, also arriving and getting out of their car. Since we couldn't find the address, I went off by myself to look through some other things that seemed to be mine in a mailbox. When I came back I saw the local boy again, but not the parent and her two kids, so I asked if they had finally found the address. He said yes, he finally found it, and led me to where it was. We went through alleys and climbed in windows and out back doors, and I was thinking 'something's wrong', then in an apartment in the corner there was a big wooden box with an "exit" sign on top of it. The boy opened the box and turned on the tv that was inside, and said "that's where they all are". The tv playing showed several cakes, one at a time, coming out from behind curtains, with the names of the people I had recognized written at the bottom of the screen, one below each cake. The voice-over announcer said "come on in, it's time to die; everyone already died, it's time for you to die". I knew better that to go inside the tv, but the boy who had brought me here insisted, and led the way, jumping into the tv. In an aggressive attack, I quickly reached over and turned off the tv; the boy shouted "no!!!!" and started jumping back out, but seemed to be caught half-formed because the tv had finished going off before he had completely gotten out. I turned and ran, trying to find a faster way out than the way we came in, but all the doors were locked, there weren't any windows, and another exit sign in the bedroom was another tv in a wooden box. I finally got out through a back door into an apartment building hallway, but the boy was now a giant demon and right behind me, chasing me and getting pretty close. I went flying down the stairs, swinging from the poles of the banister and barely touching the stairs, but he was still right behind, and I woke up.
Thirty years after the soul was implanted in my back, when I was 35, my demon soul matured and blossomed, and I joined my family in the demon world.
It takes place in a crater. I walk by a skull on a stick next to three other sticks in a square formation, and an arched piece of wood across the top of the skull, and a crow standing on top of the wood turned to the side. I thought ‘is it a threat?, like 'you go here too’? Then I thought ‘no, his spirit guides me; a powerful shaman leaves his skull, sometimes multiple skulls, to continue to guide the society. This one came to the event. It looks like woodstock but everyone is in colorful war paint and indian headdress, and a central spectacle occurs, way better than any rock festival. It's wild like a rock festival but really a much more powerful religious event, where they actually use the enthusiasm of the surrounding crowd to perform miracles. Sitting, colorfully dressed, one indian holds two rattles on a stick, like balloons, while looking the other way, waves them together, slowly across right to left; as they go by, inside them, another movie takes place, in a different, vividly bright dimension. What’s going on in there? The genome!
I walk through the crowd to the backstage, then down an aisle on the stage surrounded by old iron junk. At the center of all the commotion and with everyone's attention on me, I inhabit a counter-rotating nucleus in relation to the giant disk of observers around me. I walk toward the front of the stage, toward the crowd, throwing the objects around me up in the air, and everything hovers - typewriters, office equipment, telephones, wooden boards, utensils - and the crowd roars! Everyone is spinning one way, and at the very bright center there is a sudden shift, and it swings around the other way, as the one central eye gazes into the night, its holy voice singing in the sacrificial prayer for grace, calm, wisdom, and beauty.
Apparently doing this magic has convinced the demons that I have come of age, and my family takes me to show me more – an array of colors and marks is revealed within any wall around them by scratching in a certain sequence of directions, some with the left hand and some with the right hand, and a colorful message appears and disappears. I try it myself but its not really working; just barely; all of them walk over to me and one explains verbally while another shows another colorful diagram, like it has to do with the genome, and a special pattern reveals a circular set of letters ‘human master’; rub it and it shows, rub it differently and it goes away again, and a female voice says “show him the genome” but we get distracted and all through the rest of the dream I was waiting for this direct instruction but it never came. On the way out of the room she did say “you just have to experiment”, and that her brothers had found they could do certain things because they had more alveoli on their genome.
We left to watch what seemed like a movie, where a girl auditions to be the nanny of a bunch of rich kids; she does very well by showing she already knows all about them, and serves pizza. The one daughter isn’t eating though, while the kids and guests are eating the pizza – she’s listening carefully to the wall and sitting on a chair with her feet up. She listens and taps out a pattern with her toes very complex, like fingers on a typewriter. What she is listening to is this part of the movie that we’re all going to see next. She sounds very excited; her father and mother are in the other room she is listening to, and the father is small like a monkey but shaped and dressed like george washington; she says “my father was… (something) !” sounding very amazed.
We go to another room to see this new information in a movie, but as one amazing part comes, i’m the only one who sees it and they are all in the other room. I see these skeletons come through the wall. They’re ancestors bestowing magic. I stop the movie and call the others in. I rewind it a little, but apparently not enough. It’s like a movie but we see it taking place live in the room before us and with us. I play it back, but to me every time it seems a little bit different. We all see the skeletons again and they say I should rewind it more and play it back again. As i’m rewinding, a woman says, “that’s amazing, we all could be one person.” another says, “they were immigrants. I had thought they had originated here; they immigrated to idaho first.”
the movie is rewound more this time. People are at a train station. The butler cooks and serves the food to everyone. The children are gathered together and put in an elevator at the train station, gathered up by fun-stuff-dressed-up characters and balloons. Someone in the audience next to me says, “just like a t a bar mitzvah”. Then the selected children go down in the elevator, and i’m down there with them, and these flying monkey skeletons come up out of a doorway, flying over each of us, each one of them in succession, bigger and bigger ones, and tap each of us twice on the head; this seems to be the bestowing of some kind of magic power. After this two big skeletons come through the wall, and they seem to transform as they move, amazing everybody, eventually ending up in a kind of george washington form. After the movie I go walking around the house of these magical kids, my brothers and sisters, and look at embroideries each one has done. One of them said ‘we don’t eat meat because it’s each other’s flesh’. One was about me, and said something about zen. I forgot what most of them said but I got the idea, as I walked up the stairs of the house, that these are our souls, we have been bestowed with these magic souls, and that’s what the skeletons were.
There was one big piece of furniture that was the size of a piano but full of water and it had three stories of rocks and caves, and it had a saying near the top – I forgot what it was but something about balance – and I rocked it back and forth and wondered why the water didn’t spill out, though as it continued to rock after I stopped I worried a little but then noticed it seemed to crash up like waves in the back and take care of itself.
I went upstairs and saw some of the kids. I was going to ask again about the genome but didn’t get the chance. The butler was cleaning up and the kids were playing. A little girl asked the butler if she could play, he said yes and she started ironing on the floor next to me. I made the comment that I do that kind of playing every day, and an older boy sitting down on the floor to the other side of me asked why, and I explained for suits and shirts, but he said even for that there was an easier way, just pinching it, but he didn’t really explain, and he was putting on a pair of sneakers like mine but metallic color, and I was thinking ‘oh I guess I should start getting them in metallic color’ (silver).

I have talked to jesus. I was baptized catholic. Spoke with the angels in the cathedrals, they taught me how to pray. Then I found out jesus was a demon. He's a very big one, a warden in the prison that contains the demons. And if you want the life of comfort, then bow down to him, worship him and swear to abort and exclude other demons, and he will give you pleasure and comfort. But stand up and fight him, and he fights just like a demon.
Jesus fights but he doesn't know what he's doing. He needs help. I try to go to him but he fights and runs away.
I am not only dark, I am dark and light. Redmagic, not black, not white. I am an aztec shaman, my great grandmother was an aztec shamaness who fougt in the war against panchovilla using magic. My father was a german jesuit priest. Shamanism is hereditary. I am an earth religion and a sky religion crashing into eachother.
And as a sage and a shaman I like to look at the truth, and unite the worlds - I span the human and the demon world, and I am the host of a game show, "testing for justice", where I am a supreme court justice in the demon world and millions of demon communes and warring tribes are watching as I interact with unsuspecting humans, opeing myself up for injustice and seeing if they will take the bait, or if they will be just and win the game.

But thanks for your attention and interest. Want to hear more about the adventures of a red magic shaman in the way out there?

Spooky dreams:
after eating beans, while packing a couple of big bags, I was in a big basement where a demon sat writing at a desk across the room from a mirror that reflected him.
As I went to open my dark closet, a bug stung me. I threw out the rest of the beans, thinking they may be bad, mainly because the aura of the environment just doesn’t seem right.
Back upstairs, I went to sleep for an hour in the reclining chair, until my ride to whatever i’d been packing for, but when I woke up it was 11:15, and dark out.
I ran around panicking, asking a crowd of kids what time it was, day or night 11:15, disoriented.
I had to get back. I yelled out for my sister to drive me, but she said she’d never see me again. Eventually my mom drives me, along on a ride with a bus full of kids; one mean kid steps on my foot, and I remembered he had done the same thing in an earlier dream, so now I knew I was dreaming, and I knew he was a demon, so I threw him off the bus, and his body fell down a long way; I saw him fall and then die on impact. I was surprised that everyone seemed shocked at the killing.
I try to wake up but I can’t, and I begin to worry that i’m dead.
My mom kicks me off the bus and passes me to a priest. He takes over in a fatherly way. We walk. I ask about waking up, and talk loudly trying to send myself a message, but I apparently can’t get through. As we continue to walk down the block and approach a corner, I try to fly, and to do magic by throwing stuff up in the air, but the priest stops me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“why are we worried what others think?” I asked him.
We go into a building, and upstairs it seems to be some sort of commune, a large apartment where several people live and work, and only a small portion of them are actually here right now. Sitting down the priest asks, “what do you notice about the room?”
i notice a crucifix, without arms, melted into the wall. “what else?” amitaba….Amitaba……amitaba buddha! “very good!”
i wander into the next room and in a moment I come back out and say “not the bedroom”. “ok.” (it had been full of demon statues.)
i drop to my knees, and another woman walks into the room and smiles. She says I remind her of someone. She and I walk into the dining room and we sit down with her husband. The couple seems russian and appears to get along well, though they are both older looking; I ask his name, and he gives none. The woman has a name for him though, and when I ask she points out that they met after death.
The priest gives me a small statue to paint, a buddha with two skulls beneath his feet. Seeing some of the other, smaller, plain white statues and assorted paints scattered on the floor in the living room, I got the idea that the statue the priest had given me was meant to be a symbol of my soul.
A man was working, standing on a ladder in the same room as the table. As I walked past him, he said toward me, “a lot of bones have passed through here”.
Sitting down again with the priest at the table, I said I intend to remember everything I see here, and the priest commented that most people can’t even remember the empty tabletop we’re sitting at.
Next to the table we were sitting at was a patio door, and there were several people gathered out on the patio, maybe about twenty people, and they seemed to be having a party. The priest and I decided to get up and go join them.
Moments after we got to the group of people, a jet in the sky suddenly starts going down, sideways and backwards, approaching a distance of only a few buildings, and everyone panics and starts to run inside, and so do i. I was wondering about the safety of being in the structure of the building if it collapses, but I keep going, even when someone behind me yells for help, saying, “i’m stuck!”
we gather downstairs and the priest and I are going back in to get people’s stuff, after the dust has settled, and on the way up i’m noticing cracks in the walls and stairs. I gather my statue, some paints, then my clothes, then I start to gather some of the women’s pocketbooks on my cart, stacking it high. I ask the priest, while we’re alone, “is this heaven?”
the answer, one word: “prelude”. And suddenly I wake up.
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a few nights after the experience with the shaman there was a supernatural dream. It was like a whole movie. The dream begins with me sitting in a movie theatre, watching a movie, and there are several other people watching too, but the theatre isn’t full, just a quarter full. All of a sudden, some kids, mostly very young, maybe a few teenagers, come running in from the back of the theatre, past me, and up around the back of the stage. There were about thirty to forty kids, but the speed of the stampede was other than natural. And I sensed extreme fear. They had just passed, and disappeared behind the screen, and no one else in the audience seemed to care, but I got the feeling that whatever scared them into running like that, it might threaten me, too, if I just sit in my seat, so I got up and ran to catch up with them.
I go behind the screen, up several flights of stairs, running and getting more scared myself. The kids all reach a bunch of theatre seats way at the top and it’s the end of the line, so everyone tries to hide. Nobody’s really hiding too well, just in their seats, with their heads down.
A moment later a few adults come in, and turn on the lights; they see everybody, and start picking out different ones and calling to each other, and also yelling out some chant at everyone. These are the people the kids were running from. I get picked, among other people, and i’m asked, or told, to do an operation on someone, and asked if I can be ready in three minutes.
I’m handed, as are some of the other kids around me, a packet, with maybe a scalpel and a syringe and some medical-looking stuff, and the chant at us now is something like “we give you the power of life and death, but you have to use it for us and do what we tell you.”
i’m getting worried and ask if I can make it ten minutes from now instead of three, thinking i’ll try to escape. My offer is contemplated, and rejected.
So I decide to make a run for it. Apparently we’re about ten levels of balconies up in this movie theatre, all behind the screen, and each lower level is a little farther out, and there are big golden bars, so you can jump, holding on to the bars, and it’s a series of small leaps, not a huge fall. I start leaping down, and i’m getting away, but there’s a middle level that’s much bigger than the others, like the concession stand area. I get that far, and they catch up with me. I’m not the only one who tried to get away, there are two or three others, and we’re all cornered on this large, middle balcony.
The chasers stand in the middle of the floor talk calmly to us, then pull up chairs and sit down and lecture us, calmly. It’s like a manager disciplining and employee in his office. But I and one or two other kids are in the corner, standing on top of something, and there’s a big glass punch bowl. I smash the glass punch bowl, and we all start throwing the sharp chunks of glass at these ‘managers’. Most miss, but two out of the three managers get up calmly, looking disappointed, and walk away. The one main guy walks forward, walks straight up to me, talking sternly and more forcefully.
I put one huge shard of glass right into his forehead. Blood comes out, but he continues talking and talking, like nothing happened. Now I and the other two kids are really scared, and we must have looked confused, because he breaks his monologue for a second, pulls the glass out of his head, and says “oh, this?” then he starts pulling all the flesh of his head apart and off, and his skull is showing through, and he’s still talking, saying something like “this doesn’t matter, i’m beyond this.” we’re totally frightened by this, and we’re corralled, brought back to the top floor where everyone else is.
I’m not sure what happened next. Some time went by, but I decided to make another run for it. I start swinging, jumping, holding on to the bars, going down the different levels again. They start chasing me again, but not that hard, just like i’m a nuisance, but they’re right behind me. But i’m trying harder this time, and I have more momentum going, and as i’m getting near the bottom levels, I see some people on the side I recognize. I touch their faces as I go by to make sure they’re real, and they are, and it feels reassuring, at least I have witnesses, and they cheer me on.
I make it to the bottom and I come out a door into the lobby of the real movie theatre, out of that whole supernatural realm. The three pursuers are right behind me, and they follow me out into the natural realm. But several movie theatre employees see them, and it’s like they’ve always known who they were but couldn’t chase them into their own realm. They see these three guys, and they gather around each and stamp them to death on the floor of the lobby, chanting “flesh and blood, flesh and blood”. It’s like as soon as they followed me out into the lobby of the real movie theatre they were mortal, and totally vulnerable and easy to kill. I looked at the splattered bodies on the floor in the lobby.
The dream went on a little while longer, just me hanging out in the lobby and doing stuff. And when the shift was over, all the employees gathered by me smiling to say goodbye, and congratulations. And I looked at all their faces and I recognized them from somewhere, but I don’t know where.
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she and her children were poor, and when the man and woman at the door said they were government agents and needed to speak with her son and daughter about a very serious matter, she had a resigned look and sound, like "those kids in some crazy trouble again", and after letting them in went back about the hectic business of dealing with the kids in another part of the house.
A short while later one of the agents came over to them holding a thermos cup with the lid on, looking even more serious than before, and said, "we need to show something to your son now, would you mind if he listened to this?"
the crazy kids kept running around, and the son went with the agents downstairs to the living room. He seemed very excited about the opportunity to communicate like this, and so was his sister, who knew she was next, and was hurriedly trying to get the cat in the basement out through the yard in time to escape.
The boy was given the thermos cup and he held it in his two hands, carefully taking the top off. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he put his ear to the