(A Cosmic Experience, —or What?)
It was like this: the apparatus, had yellowish, pink and orange fire like flames, against this great wall, radiated outward, pulling my arms wide-open, and lifting my body up from my half-awake sleeping position I was in, in my bed, it was 3:00 a.m., It was as if I was in front of a spiral, twisting tempest, and it was pulling at me, and it engulfed me, it engulfed the insides of me, pulling at and through my flesh, as if it wanted to pull out my soul, through all of the other life’s inner mechanisms. Hence, all being pulled outwards towards this bright and burning apparatus; at the same time its emissions, penetrating me like dampness might penetrate through a brick and plaster wall; my mind unsure of how to react; I tried to resist the pull, as if it might simple be imaginary or a nightmare (but was it? —if so it was unlike any other nightmare I ever had in my 66-years on this earth)
In any case, still the apparatus, with its black dotted, dots, encircled by the fiery-flames, came closer, as now I had been pulled up to a sitting position on my bed, perhaps less complicated; the apparatus more visible now yet still in the process of its magnetic pull on my frame. I ask myself: was it some sort of cosmic machine, beyond space and time, I wondered, I mean, no angels appeared, God’s hand or the devil’s hand didn’t appear. My wife didn’t know what to make of it, nightmare, most likely, vision perhaps, something in-between, possible, but what?
I told my wife, in so few words “Something is going to happen,” and in hand gestures, to be silent (whom was now awake and had seen everything, but the apparatus); I had, the impression of I’m sure—to my wife, of unseeingly haste, sensing I had but a few seconds, and no more than that, for I was in the force of its magnetic severity, its draw and drag (it now makes me think we don’t know much about anything, to include death, and perhaps on the latter, we don’t have to know, for time has not mellowed death, even in my old age, it is a startling moment, quietly, or not quietly, ‘Here I go I said,’ then added, ‘Lord, I think I need some help’, now for the pallbearers: but of course it didn’t come to that).
Whatever it was, whatever took place, and perhaps it was reparation, it was put on hold, as sudden as it came, it left. No dark silence, no random jerks, no ghosts, just some cosmic force bumping into me—if indeed it wasn’t simply a nightmare, and it would simplify things if I could categorize it so. But what was its intent, its message? That might be the more important question! I do not know. I know my wife prayed, and in such cases, that is all one can do: lest you fall into it like a winter branch in a storm—trying to figure it out, only to end up like grass under the snow.
No: 1024/1-10-2014
