I’m going to assume that most of you have no idea what the title of this article means, but no worries, the FisH™ abides, as always. Just click the link here, on the word METANOIA, & you now have a new word to add to your lexicon. It essentially means a spiritual breakthrough, but like THE BREAKTHROUGH, breaking on through to the other side, literally. Coincidentally, this happened to your truly not so long ago. It’s too bad it took so long for me to find that word for myself, because if I had, I might have made some better choices. Unfortunately, I came up in the public school system indoctrination camp, in the Dirty South, no less. Yep, my lily-white ass had to ride the big banana bus, right through the black part of town. Those old school descendants of southern slaves, oh man, they stunk so bad. I think I have some repressed PTSD from those times, & I haven’t thought about it for a long, long time, until just now-ish. This keeps happening, more & more, & at this point, it seems like a life review in real-time, & that’s no exaggeration.
Visions, vivid visions of memories, going way back, exponentially becoming more prevalent by the day. No idea why it’s happening, but I’m glad it is, despite my dire financial life situation. I also have a bit of anxiety, over the fact that as I mentioned earlier, it feels like a life review, of sorts. Is this what happens before you take your last breath? Yikes…I guess we’ll all know shortly, won’t we? Oh dang, I must mention the dreams, these insanely lucid dreams, & when I get to get a bit of sleep, I go beyond astral traveling. I have no recollection of being here, or anywhere, for that matter; it’s as if I am somewhere else entirely, maybe even another planet and/or dimension, I don’t know. I know I love being there though, & I surmise that when we dream, we’re in a space that encompasses 3d, 4d, & 5d, all at the same time. It’s not full 5d, because you’re subject to time, but 4d time is distorted because of the influence of the 5th dimension. Ever had dreams that seemed to last for hours, even days sometimes, then wake up & realize only an hour or so has gone by? That’s the distortion I just illustrated, time still moves forward, but forward like a drunk driver, all over the place. Of course, we can’t forget 3d, because as I said, it’s 3d, 4d, AND 5d, all at once, like some bizarre backroom liminal space. You still have a body, somewhat, & there are still elements of this 3d world, as far as landscapes, & solid objects, but you cannot manifest said elements, at will, as you can in 5d.
These dreams, these visions, my personal metanoia, the Big Breakthrough, what can it all mean? It’s all so surreal; I wish I knew why, ya know? I DO KNOW, & I know that I know, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t remember. As 5d immortal soul beings, we know everything; we know music, the highest math, we know it all, but when we descend down here to 3d, POOF, it’s all gone, & this life should be a life of remembering what you already know, but it isn’t for most of us, right? Nope, this world has been hijacked, hijacked by soulless devil-worshipping scum, & turned into a prison planet. The divide between the proverbial guards, & us inmates, grows grander by the minute. That’s right, inmates, we’re all inmates down here in the peasantry, & the so-called “ruling elites,” they’re the guards. There’s fewer of them, a lot fewer, & yet they rule, but why? I’ll tell you why…it’s because they keep us inmates divided, & fighting each other, rather than us fighting them. We could take them all down in a an hour, but how can we, if we can’t unite as one undivided unified force? Divide & conquer, & it’s nature, the psychology behind it, oh yes, I figured it out. Goes beyond the Hegelian phrase, & even though many people have heard of “divide & conquer,” have they really thought it out? Think about the teaching, the instructions given to said ruling elites, reading book after book, listening to mentor after mentor, giving them the esoteric knowledge of how to divide the populous in order to rule them. It’s one of their secrets, one that I’ve discovered, & as promised in countless prior posts, I am here to find the truth, THE REAL TRUTH, then expose it by publishing these articles, passionately illustrating these truths, for all of you.
I want us ALL to know, to remember, not just them. FUCK THEM. Jesus Christ, it’s as if that movie They Live is a documentary, not science fiction. Could it be true? Could reptilian shapeshifters make up these “ruling elites,” & maybe that’s another buried treasure trove of knowledge & information? I’ll have to speak more on that next time. Before I wrap this Foozer up, I’ll try my best to detail one of these dreams that I can recollect. Ready? Set? GO GO GO…
This one that I remember well, & try to ponder often, also haunts me in a way. Picture a beachside bungalow, one story, a white house with an angled roof, atop a cliff, that overlooks an ocean. Think of Washington State, the coast, or Oregon even, with those steep cliffs that overlook the Pacific Ocean, & this house, like I said, was white in color, with two pillars prior to the front door. What happens when we go though this door? I’ll tell you, I’m in there, with one or two other dudes. We’re all connected in a way, but there were these rules, these unusually odd rules in this house. I recall a couch, a bed, & a TV broadcasting some kind of colored static alien program. I would be in all 3, as the time passed, as the roles seemed to rotate. The TV guy, the couch stretcher, & the sleepy sleeper. I can somewhat remember going outside a few times, & having this feeling of novelty, as if I was in some outerworldly dimension. I’m sure I could spice it up into some kind of short film, which I just texted myself to do, as a reminder, but I digress, now where was I? Oh yes, in & out of this house, rotating positions, & as I said, there were rules. What rules?
Great question, thanks for asking. The rules were unspoken, yet known, known like a second language. There was no question, the rules were the rules, & for some reason, I was…unable, you could say, to break them, yet never gave breaking the rules a thought, not even once. Maybe it was more like…obligations. Yes, forget the word “rules,” & think of them as obligations. Obliged to who though, or what? I have no better word than “God,” at least a god. These obligations weren’t written on the wall, there wasn’t a telephone in site, or a computer, & certainly no internet, yet, as I said, I was obliged to abide them, & could care less about no phones or internet. There never is in any of my dreams, never the phone, never the internet, never any concept of money, lending much to my theory that this world is artificial, & no longer following the natural order. Regardless, there I was, with the other guys, inside this little white house, then outside this little White House, for days & days in my dream, but all within an hour or so of 4d time in this 3d Clownworld. I told you, time is distorted when you dream because you’re much closer to 5d, where you higher self exists, your TRUE self, not this mask-wearing ego 3d-self I exist as, when I’m in the waking world. That’s right, days & days went by in this dream, & consistently consisted of the rotation. I can’t remember what happened when I watched the multi-colored static TV. I seem to remember it was possibly instructing me, but about what, I cannot tell you, because I cannot remember. It sucks that we can’t remember dreams as they totally happened; we can only recall pieces at best, & nothing at worst. Let’s illustrate this rotation now, shall we?
Moving on to the bed, rotation one. I don’t think I slept while laying down onto this bed in my dream. Can you imagine, sleeping in a dream, like some kind of Inception, but no, no sleeping. I’m pretty sure it was a full size bed, pushed up against the wall. Oh shit, let me describe the main room this all happened in, so you can add more detail to the figurative picture I paint for you, as if I were the great Bob Ross, & you were one of my art students, so let’s paint said picture. Opening the door of the house, you come to a large living room, the wallpaper is gaudy, like those flowery wallpapers you might find in circa 1970’s London, & to the left, is the bed, perpendicular to that wallflowered wall. One white pillow, & a white comforter, but no sheets, & it’s just as I said, a white comforter & a white pillow. Temperature didn’t appear to matter, however, so sheets or blankets mattered not. A foot or so from the bed’s foot, there was a walkway. No door, just a walkway, a dark walkway, as dark as a moonless night in a middle-of-nowhere sort of darkness. I don’t remember anyone going through said walkway from this languid living room, nor anyone, or anything, coming from the dark side into the living room. It was ominous though, I knew that. On the floor against the opposing wall from the front door, sat the television. One of those older TVs, circa 1987 perhaps, broadcasting this watercolored swirling static with symbols I cannot recall, only that they were popping up now & again. There was most certainly an…an…annnnn…an alien, yes, an alien feel to it, for lack of a better descriptor. The floor of this living room, by the way, was old hardwood flooring. Real wood mind you, but old wood, & I would guess it would be analogous to a 50-60 year old house here in 3d space. That’s the left side, & an intro to the tv space, but what is happening on the right wall?
The right wall is identical to the left wall, except instead of a bed, there’s a couch to stretch out on, which, as I said, was part of the rotation. There’s also another mysterious walkway, with nothing but the darkest of dark, should one choose to walk on through that portal to the darkness. It’s directly across from the walkway across the way, just past the foot of the couch. I know, I know, how can a couch have a “foot,” right? Wrong, & the answer is quite simple; the answer is…is that it faces the television. I don’t know what’s through these walkways, however, & neither do the other guys in this wonky white house with me. Wait a second, just who are the other guys in this rotating game, you might be wondering, yes? After countless hours of trying to remember, I think they were…well they were me, me in three different manifestations, like triplets, all bound to the obligations of the rotation. It almost felt like a video game , & the whole dream, consisted of me, myself, & I, either on the couch, or on the bed, or sitting a foot away from the TV on the floor, watching this bizarre, water-colored static emanating from the television. What can it all mean? Regardless, it’s one of the dreams I can recall very well, so I thought I’d share it with you, because the FisH™ abides, & you know this.
UPDATE: Yours truly had a fresh dream, that went on for a day or two, in the dream, but in real-time, ohhhhhhhh…maybe 2 hours, give or take 10 minutes. As I mentioned earlier, dream “time,” which is the 4th dimension, is distorted, due to the fact that you’re between the 3rd, 4th, AND 5th dimension. Anyway, I had this dream; I was at a party in this dream, a party of maybe 20-30-40 people, & somehow I knew them, ALL of them, despite never ever never meeting them in the waking world. How can that be? Who are these people? Nonetheless, there was love all around, & I was maybe 20 years younger than I am now, dressed in board shorts, sandals, & nothing else, & my board shorts were a bit big for me, so I had to keep pulling them up because my ass, & occasionally my shwing-shwang, kept popping out. No one seemed to mind though for as I mentioned, it was all love at this party. Again, there were no cell phones, no internet, & had no recollection of being here in this world, as if I truly was in another dimension. Oh, I forgot to mention this, I was there, but not quite all-the-way there, which gave me a sense of feeling kind of…drunkish, you might say. I wasn’t drinking; I wasn’t even interested in getting drunk, but my equilibrium was way off. Lots of stumbles, lots of malfunctions while trying to grab things, yet my mind head was completely sober. I could think like normal, but getting these thoughts to come out was proving very difficult. Maybe it was the time distortion, I don’t know, but regardless, I kept stumble-walking around this surreal party. A couple of girls, younger girls, were trying to get me to do the hat trick with them. They were wearing jeans, & tight tank-top shirts, one blue, & one red, & they wanted the big D, from me, obviously, but unfortunately, I never followed through. I feel like I changed my mind & went to look for them, but they were nowhere to be found. Bummer. Who else was at this party?
Great question, thanks again for playing. Oh let’s see, there was a hodgepodge of white dudes, black dudes, a bunch of hot white girls, & maybe one or two black girls, & they were all drinking from a big punch bowl that never seemed to run out of whatever the beverage was that was in there. I don’t recall drinking any, but as I said, my body felt “drunk,” for lack of a better term. It felt more like the feeling you get when you go heroic with Xanax. Your mind still functions in a relatively normal manner, but your body, your body stumbles. Bumping into walls, dropping things, & not giving a fuck, yes, that’s Xanax for you bubblegummers out there who have never taken it, much less in a large dose. I know the feeling all too well, sadly, so if I had to equate my physical state, it would be more like Xanax, rather than booze. Now, if you ever mix the two, booze & Xanax, prepare to have your mind erased, & to wake up with zero recollection of what exactly happened when you were drunk & xanaxed up. It’s a terribly dark drug, pun intended, because that’s what happens when it wears off. You only see black, total darkness, when you try to remember what you did. I digress though, as always, now where was I?
Oh yes, the big party…everyone was drinking from the big punchbowl, people were laughing, joyous, truly having a good time. Perhaps I should have tried the mysterious punch, but I didn’t, I just kept walking/stumbling around, babbling to everyone I encountered, & as I mentioned, I knew them somehow, & knew them quite well, but had never met, nor ever seen, any of these people in real time. Also, I knew this house the party was happening in, as if it were my own house, but again, I had never been to this place here in 3d world, much less lived in it, this house I was in, yet somehow, I knew it. It felt like I was back home, kind of, as in when I went outside, there was a familiarity as if I were in the beachfront town I came from, but it wasn’t. Nope, it wasn’t back home; the scenery, if you will, was different, the roads, the businesses, the houses, all of it was different, yet strangely similar, as well as exceptionally familiar to me as well as everything else. I recall seeing the names of some of the businesses, but I can’t remember what the names on their respective marquees above their buildings said. Distortion distortion distortion. Oh damn, just had a vision, a vision from a dream I’d forgotten about, but since I literally just had this vision, POOF, it came back to me. Let me finish the party illustration, then I’ll come back to this vision I just had.
It’s not gonna take long, since I’m almost at the end of describing the punchbowl party dream. What else can I say, what did I miss? Let’s see…party party party, missed a threesome with 2 hot younger broads, didn’t try the punch from the punchbowl, was stumbling & bumping due to equilibrium failure, I knew everyone somehow, as well as the big party house, & there was an almost a tangible energy of pure love betwixt myself & the party goers. I remember walking out of the house, turning right at the end of the walkway up to the house, followed by a little walk to the west I assume, because it was a sunny afternoon, & the sun was setting behind my view of the buildings ahead of me. I remember a split in the walk way; think of a “Y,” & that’s how it appeared to me from my vantage point. There was a business at the crux of the “Y,” with a sign, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what the sign said, as well as the rest of these signs. When I try to remember, it all just looks like jumbled letters, along with symbols & numbers, on these signs. It wasn’t a foreign language, it was more like codes, of some kind, but I have no idea what they translate into. Who put these signs up in this town? How did I know everything so well? What is going on in my fish-eyed brain? Is a dream really just…a dream, or is it more than that? Maybe it’s less, what do you think?
I think it’s individually subjective, but who’s doing the subjecting? Gah, I know, I know that I know, I know I have the answers within me, but for some fucking reason, I cannot find said answers. It’s incredibly frustrating; it’s frustrating, it’s depressing, it’s heart-breaking, all the above, & I’ve never felt so alone in all my life, wayyyyyy out here on my island, way out, all the way out to the tightroped perimeter of sanity, & I think there might be no way back, not here in 3d Clownworld at least. Yep, it’s looking like my ship has unprecedentedly entered uncharted waters, waters filled with ghost sharks, ready to rip me apart, limb from limb, should I decide to abandon their proverbail ship & try to swim for the shore, the shore of silence, the shore of safe returns. It looks so peaceful on this figurative shore, but if you’re stuck on an island, with no ship, there’s nowhere to go. Can’t stay on an island forever, now can you?…but how long can one stay on a ship before finding a sanctuary on land? Here I am digressing again, & just to finish up the illustration of the party dream, I went walking toward the V part of the Y, to the point where the road splits, leaving me to go either left or right, if I were to keep going in this generally westerly direction. I didn’t, however, & once I got to the spilt, I took a hard right, going off-road, in order to circle around & go back to the party, which I did, as if I knew exactly where to go, cutting through yards, until I got to an alley, which led me right back to the house. Want to know what I saw when I got back?
Of course you do, & since the FisH™ abides, I’ll tell you. Upon returning to the party, there was a lot less people there, & these people were all new. None of them, not even ONE, were there before I went on my walkabout. I knew these newbies too though, somehow, & knew them well, just like the others. More walking, stumbling, socializing, basking in the glory of the love between all of us, with ZERO recollection of this world, even yours truly, who is typing this in my present, while you read it in my past. That’s right, two different yours trulys, with two different minds, in one strange brain, probably in one body. I cannot know until I look into a mirror in a dream. I’m saying “mirror,” over & over in my head, with the hope that the concept of said mirror, will imprint into my mind & create synapses so that I can maybe, just maybe, dream about it, if I sleep tonight of course. My sleep has been so fucked up lately. Dreams, that last notably longer whilst dreaming, as opposed to a couple of hours I sleep in real time here in 3d. The dreams, on top of my visions, might be helping me in some way I am missing. Obviously, my dumb ass has no clue how to find whatever I’ve lost, but yep, definitely missing something. The answers are within me, I know it, God damn it I know, I KNOW, but I also do NOT know. Nope, don’t know a God damned thing, much less the meaning of dreams and/or visions. Of course, I’ve been searching the interwebs, like a group of hound dogs chasing a deer, & it’s all over the place, which leads me to believe that no on has a clue what is happening with dreams/visions. If they did, wouldn’t they all be saying the same thing? The reason we have dreams, as well as visions, should definitely NOT be subjective. Come on now people, there’s an answer for why it happens, of course there is, doesn’t everything have an answer, per se? We haven’t found the answer to dreams, or visions, so a bunch of power-mad morons with a PhDeeznuts write books to give people interpretations, disguised as “answers.”
Holy tap-dancing Jesus, this has turned into quite a post, & I’m just gonna stop, & wrap this one up. I could keep going, & going, & going, but the human attention span stop sign got ran about 4 paragraphs ago. Until next time dear readers, chronicle your dreams, for they have to mean something, right? So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎣
“Chronicle your dreams; it’s the only way to remember them.” Fish F Fish🎣
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 