I have not forgotten any of my readers.
I am up to my hair follicles in two deep studies right now. I will
send them out as soon as I can.
I recently had a dream which I will
share with you. It is obvious to me that my studies at this time were
a factor in this dream, as well as were the criminal acts of the SQLD
against the People of Colorado.
*************************
I am driving a large and blue
semi-truck.
I am driving at night in a rain, the
night is pitch black without any moonshine from above. I am driving
in a countryside region with many elevations and natural features. I
am driving through many forests and over many hills to get to my
destination. I am at the end of a long roadtrip, and I am having
trouble seeing where I am going.
I am driving the truck to a large
factory situated on a wide hilltop. I did not know that, but it does
not bother me as I have gone to such places before. In the darkness,
I can just see (in the headlights) that the factory has many white
buildings, and is situated above the town that is near to it. A road
without lights leads straight up the hillside from the town to the
factory, which has many long buildings to it. There is a big empty
lot next to the factory, on the side just to the left of the
buildings. The hill is one of many hills in that area. I arrive there
the night before the scheduled morning appointment time for this
delivery.
That is not unusual, so I park the rig
in the large empty lot next to the factory, and I go to sleep in the
truck. The next morning, I wake up and go into the factory to find
the shipping/receiving office.
The factory is one and two and three
storied, in a kind of duplex fashion. It has very large floor spaces,
made of very thick concrete, that are quite smooth. Massive I-beams
support a high roof of steel that changes up and down with the floor
levels.
There is an air of silence and clinical
emptiness in the factory. I notice it once I am inside. This is not
surprising. I have gone to many factories and warehouses only to find
them empty, or everyone is off in one corner having lunch and so
forth. Here, there does not seem to be any offices to be found. Long
lines of green and stainless steel machines are to be seen, but no
people and no offices. I look about and find no one.
I return to the rig, and the trailer is
gone. I am concerned about the freight delivery, so I search
everywhere for the trailer; but I cannot find it. It is fully light
now, and I go back into the factory. In another section of the
buildings, I find many twisted corpses on the floor. The air inside
has the smell of blood and burnt flesh. There is much machinery in
the factory, but the assembly floors are huge and not cramped. The
equipment exists in long columns down the center of each floor, and
along the sides of the rooms. I do not know what the factory does.
I start to see people running through
the factory from some peril. They are random people of all
descriptions. Few of them appear as though they would be working at
this factory. They run in such a way that they are partly silhouetted
against a lighter background, but I can still see their frightened
features.
I ignore the peril, whatever it is, and
I go outside. I return to the parking lot where the truck is. Then,
on the side of the factory (near the lot) I see a loading dock. I fly
to the loading area inside the building. On the loading dock is an
army lieutenant, in a khaki uniform and wearing an officer’s hat,
who has taken delivery. The trailer is gone, I never see it again.
The delivery freight is dozens of
washing machines. The army lieutenant is hastily ripping open as many
washing machine cartons as he can to stop the peril. I look at him,
and say something which I cannot remember. He continues to slash open
the cartons with a knife.
I return to the factory. I walk into a
wide and very long assembly area that runs lengthwise from the front
of the factory towards the hills in the background. There, I am
attacked by diseased people. I try to reason with about ten of them,
that if they stay Human they will not die. They are near dead
already, and very disheveled. Their faces are gaunt and drawn with
prolonged fear and terror. Their hair and clothes are in disarray and
torn. They want my help as much as to attack me, but they are worse
than exhausted, and their eyes are walking tightropes over oblivion.
One man desperately crawls into a long
mass of stainless steel equipment, along the wall to my left. He
crawls on his knees and tries to turn on a faucet inside the
machinery. He reaches the faucet and turns it on and off. Water
sprays everywhere, but he turns it on and off because he changes from
life to death.
I am very close to him, and I tell him
to leave the faucet on. Others around us drop dead. He falls back and
sits against the wall clutching the knob of the faucet. He dies in a
dirty white shirt. I get up and walk to the other side of the mass of
equipment, which extends out past the wall where the dead man sits.
There is a woman standing there, or
rather hopping there, up and down. She is not beautiful but not ugly,
with wild yellow hair. She is about 5' 9" clothed in a flower
dress of heavy material and in her 40's. She is laughing to herself
and determined to flood the factory. She grasps a lever on a large
fire hydrant and opens it, water rushes out onto the factory floor.
She is showered with light from above, that reflects in many ways off
of her and the water that streams out onto the factory floor. She is
laughing, but she is fearing.
I begin to feel the doom coming. It is
pressing in upon us from the hills. It is totally alien and menacing.
It is an alien death, and it is moving towards the factory. It is
coming from the hills out back, and is approaching the hill that the
factory has been sitting on for many years. Outside, the day begins
to rain and a fog rises in the rain. The skies lose their light, and
all paths and roads up to the factory are shrouded in dark mists.
Then, the fog turns dark too.
I go to the showers. There is a men's
locker room in an older part of the factory, and many shower rooms
there. It is in the back of the factory, on the side facing the
nearby hills. The death is intensifying, and I can feel it trying to
lock onto me as it nears the factory. The factory walls are old, and
now they seem to be very thin and weak. I can see through the walls
to a pathway that leads up to the factory from the hills. In the
depths of the dark, the death is slowly moving up the pathway,
filling all sides of it; and inside of that walks a very tall thing.
I have seen that thing before. I know it is approaching, but I refuse
to be hurried.
The factory walls begin to ooze the
doom, as the main body of the death wave approaches. I take a shower,
and I am determined not to die. The situation seems to be precarious,
it is like being perched on the edge of an abyss. I have been in this
situation before. I finish my shower and wrap up in towels. Outside,
in the locker room I find there is a shorter and thinner man, bald
and in his thirties and wrapped in white towels. He sits on a wooden
bench under a single light bulb, and next to a green tiled wall. His
feet are off the floor, and he says he refuses to die. The feeling of
oppression is growing, and he is extremely under duress. I leave him
to take his shower.
Once outside of the factory, I begin to
float. In the dim light I fly past the truck to see if it is alright,
then I fly to the top of the road that leads to the town below. The
top of the hill is now covered by darkness, but the road breaks out
into star light about halfway down the hill. I can see down the wide
and tree-lined roadway to the main street of the town. The town looks
like ten thousand other towns, with brick storefronts along both
sides of a single wide street. Somewhere down there are a drug store,
post office, market, hardware store, cafe, gas station, feed store
and a small town square with a civil war cannon. So far, the
catastrophe has not reached the town.
I turn back to the factory. Many large
openings show me the interior which is very well lit. The excretion
has arrived, and is trying to come into the factory; but the water
and the wild woman are keeping it out. I can see through the factory,
and I can see that the 'thing' is behind it all and walking around
the right side of the buildings to reach the road down to the town.
The metal outer walls of the buildings spark and flash and melt
wherever it walks, but the I-beams do not and the water rejects it,
so the factory floor and all of its equipment remain undamaged. An
enormous pressure of death and mindless stillness presses down upon
and into everything.
It reaches the top of the hill where I
am. It is ten feet tall and three feet wide, and humanoid without
eyes. I wonder why the hill is not crushed by its weight. In its
presence, every cubic inch of airspace must weigh a thousand tons or
more. Air cannot move where the thing is, and luckily I do not need
to breathe. For a moment I worry about the truck, but I remember not
to worry. I am suspended several feet above the road, and the thing
tries to walk through me. It is ten feet tall and vaguely humanoid,
with spikes coming straight up out of its head. It is sharply cut out
of time and space. It is an animated opening into a place of total
death, but it is sharply cut out of space and time. It has sharp
borders, there is nothing fuzzy about it. It is the cut outline of
some thing, but not the thing itself. It is the emptiness without the
thing that occupies it.
I see that the outline of it moves and
turns and shifts, so I determine that there is something inside of
the outline that cannot be seen. It must be transparent, and through
it I can see into the nothingness that it comes from. Through it, I
can see an existence where lifelessness is life, and all is
anti-universe. The death that it comes from has a weight and a
presence that is murderous. An enormous and stifling asphyxiation
descends upon me as it nears. I cannot understand how it can exist
inside of such incredible forces. How can it move? How can I move?
I feel my spirit surrounding my heart,
so it cannot be touched by the thing. I remember that it exists at
absolute zero, and infinite heat, at the same time. What it does not
evaporate, it freezes.
The hilltop forest around the factory
cannot stand the pain, and the trees scream and burst into flames. A
vast fireball ascends into the air over the hill, all trees burn
white and yellow where they stood. As torches they illuminate the
entire hilltop, the scene becomes that of flashing contrasts and
beams of fire and shadows, and the 'thing'.
The thing is mindless of any of this,
and blindly tries to walk through me (killing me) to reach the road
down to the town. The road beneath it fractures and evaporates as it
moves, revealing that it does not need earthly support; for it does
not fall as the ground beneath it disappears.
I will not move. I am frozen in
resistance and the thing stops when it touches me. The intensity is
almost blinding, the pressures beyond description. It is a state of
being far too close to an open blast furnace; as though having fallen
into one and able to realize it for the last second before dying --
but the second never ends. I am closer than face to face with the
'thing' -- it's outline and existence is actually pressed against my
face.
Then, water splashes onto its back. The
wild blond woman has thrown a big bucket of water onto it from
behind. This makes no sense to me. The thing is an opening alive.
Through it will flow the torrent from its world, of death upon the
town. The water should fly into it, and through it, to its terrible
place of origin. Instead, the water splashes onto it. The woman
giggles with glee, and cackles for me to go to the town. She turns in
her steps, and another big bucket of water appears for her to grab.
She throws this onto the thing and turns to get another. An endless
procession of big yellow water buckets appear behind her, hovering in
the air in a line.
The thing is stopped, but does not know
how. It tries to turn on the woman, towering over her, but it cannot
face the water. The secretion of disaster, that came up the far side
of the hill with the 'thing', is trying to come around the sides of
the buildings now; having failed to swarm over the factory.
The intensity of death versus life here
is phenomenal; all other experiences cease to exist in comparison.
This is a constant and continuing time of death, the moment of death
prolonged and refused.
I accept that the wild woman will
succeed, and I fly down the road. There is a river down there which
must be crossed before I can reach the town. The river is narrow, but
the canyon in which the river flows is wide, and the bridge over all
of it is long; a suspension bridge that is silver.
Rather than go to the town, I fly down
into the canyon and start to go upstream to the right. The floors of
the canyon are covered with trees and tall grasses. The walls of the
canyon are bare dirt, and above the far side I can see some buildings
of the town. This is a very typical sight.
From upstream, a column of the ooze is
coming down towards the bridge. It is as wide as a football field,
but flat rather than cylindrical. There is a man standing in the
grasses on the factory side of the canyon. He has somewhat long blond
hair. He is strongly featured, with an almost classical face from
ancient Grecian times. He wears a white toga belted at the waist, and
his arms are uncovered. I cannot see if he wears sandals.
He faces the doom as it fills the
canyon and begins to swarm over him, but he refuses to move. Instead,
he moves his arms in a thrashing way over his body. He is not
pretending to be a wizard, he is using his upper body to thrash at
and repel the tide of demise -- which is dark grey with swirls of
sparkling anti-matter running through it. The more he flays at the
ooze, the more it stops.
He begins to walk into the flow of
anti-life. At this the cross-pressures are too much for the trees of
the valley, and they ignite and surge into flames of many colors. The
sides of the canyon cannot take the pressures either, and begin to
powderize. A violent torrent of wind rises up from the canyon taking
the walls with it. Everything that is not rooted to the canyon
disintegrates, and is caught by the huge torrent of white hot wind
that now dwarfs the town itself with a tall column of dark billowing
smoke and ashes.
At the base of the holocaust, down in
the canyon, is the blond-haired man in the toga. He is walking
upstream into the flowing anti-matter, beating upon it with his arms
above him as he goes. The flood is constantly trying to overthrow him
and to rise above him and drown him. It cannot withstand his efforts,
so the mass of it begins to spread outwards as if to go around him.
The canyon explodes into ground fires,
as though the earth's core has risen to the surface. Upwellings of
hot and shining red lava begin to fill the canyon behind the man with
a purpose. The town becomes shaded and dark under a huge formation of
blackness that rises from the canyon next to it. Inside the canyon,
the blond-haired man in the toga assaults the tide of anti-life, and
is himself immersed in a high wall of earth's lava that has now
filled the canyon behind him and aligns itself with him. Thus, only
the front of him protrudes from the red hot mass which moves step by
step with his paces into the death. Together, as a wall of defiance
they smash against the onrushing doom, face against face, atoms
against atoms.
The flow of non-existence cannot
coexist with such natural forces, and begins to disintegrate before
them. The process of removing it will be long, and the man will walk
into it and destroy it; until none is left of it, his supply of lava
being endless.
I relocate to a position inside of the
high arches of the bridge. I see that on top of the hill the 'thing'
is trying to kill the wild woman with bolts of electricity, but she
just throws buckets of water on it, and it electrocutes itself each
time.
The terrible oppression of doom and
dread slowly fades away.
The town is covered in ashes and
debris, but it is saved.
I wake up, and the first thing that I
think is -- where is the monster 'Clooney'?
*************************
Markel Peters
