I was at work in one of the large rooms covered in dark grey tar paper. Someone was pulling down the tar paper and exposing the wooden 2 by 4s behind it. I walked forward to help when suddenly I realized that this was not what my work place actually looked like. This was a dream and now I was lucid within it. But what to do now that I was here? Surely I didn't want to waste this opportunity. I pondered frantically for a few seconds and then I remembered I wanted to meet my guides. I looked around quickly and saw a female dressed in white standing by a hallway wall.
I went up to her and asked, "Are you real?"
"No," she answered.
I was taken aback. She did not look plasticlike and she had spoken, two things that set her apart from regular thought forms. But yet I could sense no emotion or personality from her. Finally I decided she was real but testing me. Had I detected maybe a note of sarcasm in her answer or was that in my imagination? I wasn't sure.
"Are you one of the ones that guides my life?" I then asked her. As I said it, I pondered life's trials and wondered what kind of hard advice she might have for me. She was walking now with her back turned to me, but briefly she turned her head to look at me and said, "I am also responsible for the good things." At first I was suprised, but then I realized that I had been thinking only of negative hard things in my life, as if all learning must be hard.
A split second passed and I found her sitting at a desk typing on a computer. She had an air of concentration about her. I wondered is she was looking at my life on her computer. Then the dream ended.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
How Not to Get Sleep
I've been so tired this last week or more. I am trying to get more sleep, but the sleep has not been fulfilling. Last night, I decided to go to bed very early in hopes of breaking the cycle and catching up on some sleep, but instead, I ended up just laying there bored. As tired as I was, sleep would just not come. And my body felt hot and sticky, even though the air was cold. I have learned from experience that when my body feels hot for no good reason, sleep will never come. So finally, I got up again and read a book for another hour and a half until my body began to feel the cold air again.
I slept for maybe an hour before waking to feel a nagging energy moving along my spine. Sometimes, energy there feels good but other times, like last night, it just feels irritating and exhausting. I lay awake for another half hour and then tried something that sometimes works. I don't know why, but sometimes if I turn around in the bed so my feet and head have reversed position, then I can get some sleep.
It worked for a while. I slept for another hour, until I heard a beep beep beep noise coming from the storage room that shares a door with my bedroom. My mother had piled all manner of storage items on shelves in that room and for the last month, something occasionally omitted beeping noises from there late at night. The beeping was short lived and always occurs late at night when I was sleeping, and each time, by the time I raced in there to find the noisemaker, the sound had already shut off before I could decipher what was making it. But over time, I had at least narrowed it down to a general location and this night, I raced into the room with renewed determination. And at long last I found it! Tucked into a corner behind some spray cans was a tiny portable battery operated alarm clock that was no bigger than the size of a large thumb. Victory! I had located the late night noise maker. I turned the alarm option to 'off' and waltzed back into my room plenty pleased to have finally solved that problem. Finally, I would get some sleep!
Then I lay for another half hour bored but no sleep. I almost decided to try my most desperate strategy, which is to lay on the hard floor. For some reason, which I fathom not, when I feel hot for no good reason and cannot sleep, I have found that if I lay on the hard floor for about 30 minutes, I can usually sleep after that. But who wants to lay on a hard floor for 30 minutes! Not me, that is for sure. And luckily, I finally drifted off before having to exercise that option.
Except that several hours later, I was suddenly jarred awake when my right hand and arm, apparently for no good reason, shot out from under the covers and clutched at the air violently, as if to catch an invisible fly or something. I didn't even know that my arm could move that fast! And why had I done that? I was not aware of having been dreaming and I am very good at remembering recent dreams. Now I was somewhat unnerved by the apparently illogical and alien actions of my own hand. In fact, I had clenched my hand so roughly and quickly that the ring finger nail had gouged itself into the flesh on the outside of my thumb, and now as I lay there not sleeping and feeling a bit freaked out, I could feel the top of the thumb throbbing from where I had gouged myself.
But by this time, I was oh so very tired and despite the weirdness, I managed to drift off again. I dreamt about a place where 10 foot tall brown plywood walls had been erected all around for the sole purpose of displaying artworks. The walls had been set up as if to form roads and allyways, but all the traffic was foot traffic and there was plenty of it! This was a culteral meeting place where many people would walk and discuss the art that had been given by volunteers. Theft was not an issue and neither was money. Surely, this must have been in another kind of world, but all the people looked human and I felt that this was a place I had visited countless times before. Ironically, I was not much interested in the art itself, but I loved the place for it's happy ambiance and good memories. I dallied here for a while until, in a semiconscious state, I knew it would soon be time to wake up and go to work. But now I was so tired that I did not want to face waking up!
I considered other options. Maybe I could just open one eye for a while and work my way up to two eyes. I tried this and it seemed easier. I opened the one eye and saw through a small round aperature the sight of several people walking around in the front part of a store. This one eyed seeing seemed relaxing until a part of me realized that eyesight does not involve little round aperatures and my bedroom is not in a store. Therefore, I must not actually be seeing with my eyes!
I was starting to become lucid and determined to see more so I opened both my 'eyes' and watched as people came through the swinging glass doors of this place. First came several black guys in their 20s dressed in casual clothes. They were my homies and I was glad to see them but despite that, we all remained subdued in our greeting. Behind them came a powerful figure of a black woman, tall and trim and looking to be in her 40s. Her hair was set into some kind of ultra refined dreadlock type style like thin cords of hair, that balanced beautifully with her handsome face and high cheakbones. This was a powerful and stately woman both in appearance and in demeanor. SHe commanded respect and was accustomed to getting it. And by the stern look on her face, she was not happy with me.
I smiled tightly and followed them all to a long rectangular table where we all sat down. She began to lecture me about being irresponsible. She spoke of some trouble that "Tony" had gotten into and talked about how it related to me, and I heard myself respectfully saying "Yes Ma." I had been gone away from them for a while and had not told them before I left. Even now, I had told them very little of what I had been doing and most of this meeting would be about me telling her as little as possible. She was angry but as the night wore on, I expected she would loosen up. I would just have to listen and do my best until the mood lightened. Even now, I longed to make a joke about sweet and sour sauce that someone's comment had triggered, but I knew it was too soon. Joking now would only anger my mother, but hopefully later, we could turn to a lighter mood. Meanwhile, all of us would wait patiently.
A part of me that was still me and not the black man was listening and trying to take notes. I jumped on the name "Tony" and vowed to remember it, but much of the rest was gone moments after waking. And waking I did, this time for real, as that day's work still demanded my attention. I crawled out of bed and considered the nights fitful events. Wondering about the incident with the grabbing hand, I inspected the back of my right thumb and found the stabbing imprint still there and sore, so I knew the whole thing had not been a dream. I had really grabbed out into the air for some reason and I had really stabbed into my own thumb. But why? Now my eyes were blurred from grogginess and a light pain between my eyes would be slow to resolve itself. My thumb hurt and so did my shoulder, perhaps also from the violent flailing motion of the grab. Looks like it would be another day of tired exhaustion.
Maybe tomorrow I would get to bed early and catch up on some sleep!
I slept for maybe an hour before waking to feel a nagging energy moving along my spine. Sometimes, energy there feels good but other times, like last night, it just feels irritating and exhausting. I lay awake for another half hour and then tried something that sometimes works. I don't know why, but sometimes if I turn around in the bed so my feet and head have reversed position, then I can get some sleep.
It worked for a while. I slept for another hour, until I heard a beep beep beep noise coming from the storage room that shares a door with my bedroom. My mother had piled all manner of storage items on shelves in that room and for the last month, something occasionally omitted beeping noises from there late at night. The beeping was short lived and always occurs late at night when I was sleeping, and each time, by the time I raced in there to find the noisemaker, the sound had already shut off before I could decipher what was making it. But over time, I had at least narrowed it down to a general location and this night, I raced into the room with renewed determination. And at long last I found it! Tucked into a corner behind some spray cans was a tiny portable battery operated alarm clock that was no bigger than the size of a large thumb. Victory! I had located the late night noise maker. I turned the alarm option to 'off' and waltzed back into my room plenty pleased to have finally solved that problem. Finally, I would get some sleep!
Then I lay for another half hour bored but no sleep. I almost decided to try my most desperate strategy, which is to lay on the hard floor. For some reason, which I fathom not, when I feel hot for no good reason and cannot sleep, I have found that if I lay on the hard floor for about 30 minutes, I can usually sleep after that. But who wants to lay on a hard floor for 30 minutes! Not me, that is for sure. And luckily, I finally drifted off before having to exercise that option.
Except that several hours later, I was suddenly jarred awake when my right hand and arm, apparently for no good reason, shot out from under the covers and clutched at the air violently, as if to catch an invisible fly or something. I didn't even know that my arm could move that fast! And why had I done that? I was not aware of having been dreaming and I am very good at remembering recent dreams. Now I was somewhat unnerved by the apparently illogical and alien actions of my own hand. In fact, I had clenched my hand so roughly and quickly that the ring finger nail had gouged itself into the flesh on the outside of my thumb, and now as I lay there not sleeping and feeling a bit freaked out, I could feel the top of the thumb throbbing from where I had gouged myself.
But by this time, I was oh so very tired and despite the weirdness, I managed to drift off again. I dreamt about a place where 10 foot tall brown plywood walls had been erected all around for the sole purpose of displaying artworks. The walls had been set up as if to form roads and allyways, but all the traffic was foot traffic and there was plenty of it! This was a culteral meeting place where many people would walk and discuss the art that had been given by volunteers. Theft was not an issue and neither was money. Surely, this must have been in another kind of world, but all the people looked human and I felt that this was a place I had visited countless times before. Ironically, I was not much interested in the art itself, but I loved the place for it's happy ambiance and good memories. I dallied here for a while until, in a semiconscious state, I knew it would soon be time to wake up and go to work. But now I was so tired that I did not want to face waking up!
I considered other options. Maybe I could just open one eye for a while and work my way up to two eyes. I tried this and it seemed easier. I opened the one eye and saw through a small round aperature the sight of several people walking around in the front part of a store. This one eyed seeing seemed relaxing until a part of me realized that eyesight does not involve little round aperatures and my bedroom is not in a store. Therefore, I must not actually be seeing with my eyes!
I was starting to become lucid and determined to see more so I opened both my 'eyes' and watched as people came through the swinging glass doors of this place. First came several black guys in their 20s dressed in casual clothes. They were my homies and I was glad to see them but despite that, we all remained subdued in our greeting. Behind them came a powerful figure of a black woman, tall and trim and looking to be in her 40s. Her hair was set into some kind of ultra refined dreadlock type style like thin cords of hair, that balanced beautifully with her handsome face and high cheakbones. This was a powerful and stately woman both in appearance and in demeanor. SHe commanded respect and was accustomed to getting it. And by the stern look on her face, she was not happy with me.
I smiled tightly and followed them all to a long rectangular table where we all sat down. She began to lecture me about being irresponsible. She spoke of some trouble that "Tony" had gotten into and talked about how it related to me, and I heard myself respectfully saying "Yes Ma." I had been gone away from them for a while and had not told them before I left. Even now, I had told them very little of what I had been doing and most of this meeting would be about me telling her as little as possible. She was angry but as the night wore on, I expected she would loosen up. I would just have to listen and do my best until the mood lightened. Even now, I longed to make a joke about sweet and sour sauce that someone's comment had triggered, but I knew it was too soon. Joking now would only anger my mother, but hopefully later, we could turn to a lighter mood. Meanwhile, all of us would wait patiently.
A part of me that was still me and not the black man was listening and trying to take notes. I jumped on the name "Tony" and vowed to remember it, but much of the rest was gone moments after waking. And waking I did, this time for real, as that day's work still demanded my attention. I crawled out of bed and considered the nights fitful events. Wondering about the incident with the grabbing hand, I inspected the back of my right thumb and found the stabbing imprint still there and sore, so I knew the whole thing had not been a dream. I had really grabbed out into the air for some reason and I had really stabbed into my own thumb. But why? Now my eyes were blurred from grogginess and a light pain between my eyes would be slow to resolve itself. My thumb hurt and so did my shoulder, perhaps also from the violent flailing motion of the grab. Looks like it would be another day of tired exhaustion.
Maybe tomorrow I would get to bed early and catch up on some sleep!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Back Again!
He came back again this morning! Or at least I think it was him. I was sleeping and I felt someone touching my back, a rather probing and experimental touch, as if he was checking on something or trying to do something, touching here and there, but not particularly sexual in nature. I was half asleep but did recognize that 'it' was happening again and that 'it' probably was that dream lover guy again. Then I lay there and wondered if I would see him more clearly like last time. It was an interesting experience also in that I was actually laying on my back, but yet I could feel him touching my back, as if the physical existance of the bed was irrelevant.
But I totally forgot how I had learned to materialize him last time and I forgot all the long list of questions I had for him! Instead, I just lay there like a lump on a log doing nothing. Duh! Eventually, the touching stopped and some time later, I woke up. And I could have just kicked myself!
But I totally forgot how I had learned to materialize him last time and I forgot all the long list of questions I had for him! Instead, I just lay there like a lump on a log doing nothing. Duh! Eventually, the touching stopped and some time later, I woke up. And I could have just kicked myself!
Friday, March 5, 2010
Dream Lover #2
I was asleep on a large bed in a room with other large beds (not where I sleep in waking life). A woman came to me and asked me if she and her boyfriend could share my bed. I said, "Sure, why not?" It seemed like the polite thing to do. She said, "Thank you." I slept for a while. Eventually, I realized I was curled up at the end of the bed, essentially hogging that whole end. I wondered if the others would want to stretch out. If so, they could not while I was taking the whole end. I asked the woman if they wanted to stretch out because if so, I would take one side instead of one end. She said sure. Some time passed and I drifted into another slightly different state of consciousness.
Then I realized there was a hand on my stomach. I knew it was a man's hand, and I liked it, but I could barely feel it. By now, I had forgotten all about any previous exchanges with the woman. I only thought about what was happening right at that second, which seemed sudden and spontaneous to me. And pleasing. But I was not sure how to make the feeling stronger. I wondered if it was my imagination at times. Or a dream. Then I had the sudden idea to just stop questioning if it was real or hoping it was real and just IMAGINE it was real. So I imagined the hand was really there.
Immediately, the man materialized next to me, accompanied by a sort of slurping sound as the image came together, starting with the hand and quickly spreading to the rest of him. I was shocked. It had never happened this way before. No one had ever actually materialized like that before and it was so easy and sudden! I was excited and the man looked excited. He was muscular and good looking and seemed very pleased with himself and me.
He immediately introduced himself by saying cordially, "My name is Derek Miller." My mind was spinning a mile a minute now with questions and excitement. But in the back of my head, I remembered that name. That was the name of a boy I once knew in early childhood. And somehow I knew this guy in front of me was not that guy from my childhood. I figured the one here now must have pulled the name from my memory in order to have some name to give me.
Excitedly, I asked the man in front of, "How do I do that again?" meaning the materialization.
He answered, "All you have to do is miss me less." This confused me as I was not aware of missing anyone, certainly not a man I did not think I knew in the first place. I thought about what happened and how I decided to use my imagination. I did't think I had ever tried that method before and rationalized that maybe when he said "don't miss me," he meant something like assume he was there instead of missing him. Anyway, I felt like I knew enough to do it again, even if I didn't entirely understand his statement.
I leaned forward now so I was on top of him and his legs were around me. I am not sure exactly what we are doing. It was not exactly sex but we seemed to be naked and the feeling was that warm fuzzy nice feeling like sex can give you. Questions flooded my mind and I said, "Oh my god so who are you and why did you come here?"
He answered, "Someone, a lady, told me you had nothing to do."
I asked, "So how did you get here?"
He answered, "It was the dilithium dilithium."
Incrediously, I blurted out "You mean like on STAR TREK?!!!" Now I was getting really suspicious that he was pulling stupid stuff out of my head. Dilithium is a fictitious power source on the Star Trek TV show series. He could't possibly expect me to believe THAT!
But he continued on despite my objections saying, "Something about the dilithium dilithium-When we encountered the dark star crystal, it ran out of something underneath." I could see him concentrating as he was trying to find the words to explain this and he did not appear to take note of my skepticism. His answer came out slowly and I had time to ask one more question as he was still speaking.
I asked him again, "So who are you?" And then I snapped suddenly awake in my waking world bed, laughing and confused. I was excited to finally have a conversation with some kind of apparent entity. But yet his answers seemed far from satisfying and enlightening. But apparently, I learned something. Apparently, in order to speak to these kinds of creatures, they seem to need some help from my end. They seem to need me to believe they are already there in order for me to see them, or at least that is how I interpret it.
I had never tried this before, but had many times wondered why others have reported speaking to guides and I have never been able to do so. Maybe this is why. Because they need a bit of help from my end and I have never before given that help in the form of believing. The entity I spoke with did not seem to be just a mere thoughtform, an empty boring shell of a creature that does not speak and never surprises. This one did surprise and often confuse me. Yet, the answers could easily have all come from my imagination.
I got out of bed and immediately wrote everything down so I would not forget later. And the next day, I did a google on dilithium and found there really is a thing called dilithium and that it is a molecule consisting of two lithium atoms. Ironically, lithium ions have been found to help regulate mood swings but I couldn't find much especially about dilithium itself. If I see this guy again, hopefully I will be able to get better and more interesting answers out of him! Or are they out of me?
[Addendum: Of note are similarities between this incident and the one described in the first Dream Lover post. Could this be the same couple and/or the same guy? Maybe. And now that I reread that, I remember that although I do not remember examining his face much, Dream Lover #2 had a European sounding accent. Wow, now how did I manage to forget that!]
Then I realized there was a hand on my stomach. I knew it was a man's hand, and I liked it, but I could barely feel it. By now, I had forgotten all about any previous exchanges with the woman. I only thought about what was happening right at that second, which seemed sudden and spontaneous to me. And pleasing. But I was not sure how to make the feeling stronger. I wondered if it was my imagination at times. Or a dream. Then I had the sudden idea to just stop questioning if it was real or hoping it was real and just IMAGINE it was real. So I imagined the hand was really there.
Immediately, the man materialized next to me, accompanied by a sort of slurping sound as the image came together, starting with the hand and quickly spreading to the rest of him. I was shocked. It had never happened this way before. No one had ever actually materialized like that before and it was so easy and sudden! I was excited and the man looked excited. He was muscular and good looking and seemed very pleased with himself and me.
He immediately introduced himself by saying cordially, "My name is Derek Miller." My mind was spinning a mile a minute now with questions and excitement. But in the back of my head, I remembered that name. That was the name of a boy I once knew in early childhood. And somehow I knew this guy in front of me was not that guy from my childhood. I figured the one here now must have pulled the name from my memory in order to have some name to give me.
Excitedly, I asked the man in front of, "How do I do that again?" meaning the materialization.
He answered, "All you have to do is miss me less." This confused me as I was not aware of missing anyone, certainly not a man I did not think I knew in the first place. I thought about what happened and how I decided to use my imagination. I did't think I had ever tried that method before and rationalized that maybe when he said "don't miss me," he meant something like assume he was there instead of missing him. Anyway, I felt like I knew enough to do it again, even if I didn't entirely understand his statement.
I leaned forward now so I was on top of him and his legs were around me. I am not sure exactly what we are doing. It was not exactly sex but we seemed to be naked and the feeling was that warm fuzzy nice feeling like sex can give you. Questions flooded my mind and I said, "Oh my god so who are you and why did you come here?"
He answered, "Someone, a lady, told me you had nothing to do."
I asked, "So how did you get here?"
He answered, "It was the dilithium dilithium."
Incrediously, I blurted out "You mean like on STAR TREK?!!!" Now I was getting really suspicious that he was pulling stupid stuff out of my head. Dilithium is a fictitious power source on the Star Trek TV show series. He could't possibly expect me to believe THAT!
But he continued on despite my objections saying, "Something about the dilithium dilithium-When we encountered the dark star crystal, it ran out of something underneath." I could see him concentrating as he was trying to find the words to explain this and he did not appear to take note of my skepticism. His answer came out slowly and I had time to ask one more question as he was still speaking.
I asked him again, "So who are you?" And then I snapped suddenly awake in my waking world bed, laughing and confused. I was excited to finally have a conversation with some kind of apparent entity. But yet his answers seemed far from satisfying and enlightening. But apparently, I learned something. Apparently, in order to speak to these kinds of creatures, they seem to need some help from my end. They seem to need me to believe they are already there in order for me to see them, or at least that is how I interpret it.
I had never tried this before, but had many times wondered why others have reported speaking to guides and I have never been able to do so. Maybe this is why. Because they need a bit of help from my end and I have never before given that help in the form of believing. The entity I spoke with did not seem to be just a mere thoughtform, an empty boring shell of a creature that does not speak and never surprises. This one did surprise and often confuse me. Yet, the answers could easily have all come from my imagination.
I got out of bed and immediately wrote everything down so I would not forget later. And the next day, I did a google on dilithium and found there really is a thing called dilithium and that it is a molecule consisting of two lithium atoms. Ironically, lithium ions have been found to help regulate mood swings but I couldn't find much especially about dilithium itself. If I see this guy again, hopefully I will be able to get better and more interesting answers out of him! Or are they out of me?
[Addendum: Of note are similarities between this incident and the one described in the first Dream Lover post. Could this be the same couple and/or the same guy? Maybe. And now that I reread that, I remember that although I do not remember examining his face much, Dream Lover #2 had a European sounding accent. Wow, now how did I manage to forget that!]
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Freudian Dreams
There I was sitting on the toilet ready to let loose. Suddenly pee was squirting everywhere. I had forgotten I was a man now! I was sitting down and the pee was coming out of an unexpected place and getting all over the place. I realized I had no idea where the muscle in this body was located that would cut off the stream of pee, if there even was one. I couldn't turn off the flow, so belatedly I attempted to bend the male organ to point between my legs and into the toilet, but this too met with only partial success. By the time it was over, I had made quite a mess of things and took a while to clean up.
Then I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. My blue jeans and dark blue sweater made my thick muscular body look less threatening. My face was of middling handsomeness, reminiscent vaguely of Jay Leno with a big chin and manly features. Although I had a naturally powerful body, I was mild mannered by nature.
I found myself thinking about the male organ and how it wasn't as simple to use as I would have assumed. But of course, most men had years learning how to use it from the time of birth. I would have to be much more careful next time, but I felt eventually I would become reasonably proficient.
However the bigger problem would be my own preference for men. Although I was in a male body now, after searching my feelings, I felt no corresponding changes in my sexual preferences. I wondered if over time, this new body would influence me in new ways, but if it didn't, my life could become difficult in some aspects. I looked into this mirror, I pondered this issue, until suddenly, I woke up.
Then I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. My blue jeans and dark blue sweater made my thick muscular body look less threatening. My face was of middling handsomeness, reminiscent vaguely of Jay Leno with a big chin and manly features. Although I had a naturally powerful body, I was mild mannered by nature.
I found myself thinking about the male organ and how it wasn't as simple to use as I would have assumed. But of course, most men had years learning how to use it from the time of birth. I would have to be much more careful next time, but I felt eventually I would become reasonably proficient.
However the bigger problem would be my own preference for men. Although I was in a male body now, after searching my feelings, I felt no corresponding changes in my sexual preferences. I wondered if over time, this new body would influence me in new ways, but if it didn't, my life could become difficult in some aspects. I looked into this mirror, I pondered this issue, until suddenly, I woke up.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Scam
A nearly priceless collection of antique jewelry, now finally up for sale. This one piece especially, medallions of a hardened clay like substance with painted spiral designs strung into a necklace harking back from before history began, was an artifact that few in this world could afford to possess. In these hard times, an outgoing and charming middle aged couple, my patrons, finally had to sell some of their heirloom pieces. Or at least that is what they had been telling people.
I admired their technique, I really did. Even now, as their target couple walked towards the door, they acted nonchalant, but just as their victims were nearly gone, mumbling to eachother that it was a big purchase and they should discuss it with their family first, one of my patrons whispered loudly to the other that it was fine because that OTHER lady had been quite interested in that piece as well and would be visiting later in that same day. My patron's delivery was so perfect and so well timed, as if she had only been whispering to her husband and it was only an accident that her whisper had been just barely audible to the other couple. Of course the other couple immediately hesitated at the doorway.
"Well now wait a minute.." said our victim as she started to turn back towards my patrons. At that, I knew the hook had been sunk. It was only a matter of time now for them to be reeled in. And it would be weeks if not years before they ever found out that the priceless artifact they bought at a bargain price was actually a forgery, done by a skilled artisan of course, but in much more modern times. By that time, my patrons and I would have long since moved on.
My work here was done. I had made the flawless fakes and acted the part of the knowledgeable expert and my patrons had used their connections and certificates of authenticity from the true originals to scam millions off of their victims. I had already recieved my percentage of payment for most of those sales. This sale was the only one left, but I would not be waiting around for my payment.
I knew my patrons would be busy now making their final pitch and milking those last few dollars off of these last juicy victims. Meanwhile, I took that time to make one last swap. One last forgery swapped for one last original and now it was time for me to make my hasty retreat. For I had made not just one forgery for each antique, but instead I had made two. One forgery went to the buyers and, although my patrons had not yet realized it, the other forgery had been given back to my patrons. My patrons thought they retained the originals, but instead I would end up with all of them. It would be weeks if not years before they ever found out, and by that time, I would have long since moved on..
I admired their technique, I really did. Even now, as their target couple walked towards the door, they acted nonchalant, but just as their victims were nearly gone, mumbling to eachother that it was a big purchase and they should discuss it with their family first, one of my patrons whispered loudly to the other that it was fine because that OTHER lady had been quite interested in that piece as well and would be visiting later in that same day. My patron's delivery was so perfect and so well timed, as if she had only been whispering to her husband and it was only an accident that her whisper had been just barely audible to the other couple. Of course the other couple immediately hesitated at the doorway.
"Well now wait a minute.." said our victim as she started to turn back towards my patrons. At that, I knew the hook had been sunk. It was only a matter of time now for them to be reeled in. And it would be weeks if not years before they ever found out that the priceless artifact they bought at a bargain price was actually a forgery, done by a skilled artisan of course, but in much more modern times. By that time, my patrons and I would have long since moved on.
My work here was done. I had made the flawless fakes and acted the part of the knowledgeable expert and my patrons had used their connections and certificates of authenticity from the true originals to scam millions off of their victims. I had already recieved my percentage of payment for most of those sales. This sale was the only one left, but I would not be waiting around for my payment.
I knew my patrons would be busy now making their final pitch and milking those last few dollars off of these last juicy victims. Meanwhile, I took that time to make one last swap. One last forgery swapped for one last original and now it was time for me to make my hasty retreat. For I had made not just one forgery for each antique, but instead I had made two. One forgery went to the buyers and, although my patrons had not yet realized it, the other forgery had been given back to my patrons. My patrons thought they retained the originals, but instead I would end up with all of them. It would be weeks if not years before they ever found out, and by that time, I would have long since moved on..
Friday, January 1, 2010
Shadowmaker
I am lounging on the couch, watching tv, when a shadow moves across the wall behind the tv. I am startled and the shadow is soon gone. The sole source of light is in front of me an above me, a simple hanging light fixture. I quickly look between the light bulbs and the wall but I don't see anything. I am confused for a few seconds but blow it off and am soon back to watching tv.
Then it happens again. And again. And then one more time. The movement pattern of the shadow could best be described as a rapid floating pattern, too fast to be from wind or air in a closed room, but it moved in a slightly wavering up and down path, and would either turn off or disappear as it reached the console that the tv sits on top of. Each time, I inspected the situation more carefully, checking the air space, checking the light bulb for bugs, checking everything I can think of. The dog remains curled contentedly on the floor, barely taking note of my activities.
Eventually, I get up and attempt to replicate the shadow. From what I can tell, the source of the shadow must have been approximately fist sized and approximately half way between the light bulbs and the wall that cast the shadow. I have lived in this house approximately nine years now and but I'll be damned if I can explain that shadow.
Then it happens again. And again. And then one more time. The movement pattern of the shadow could best be described as a rapid floating pattern, too fast to be from wind or air in a closed room, but it moved in a slightly wavering up and down path, and would either turn off or disappear as it reached the console that the tv sits on top of. Each time, I inspected the situation more carefully, checking the air space, checking the light bulb for bugs, checking everything I can think of. The dog remains curled contentedly on the floor, barely taking note of my activities.
Eventually, I get up and attempt to replicate the shadow. From what I can tell, the source of the shadow must have been approximately fist sized and approximately half way between the light bulbs and the wall that cast the shadow. I have lived in this house approximately nine years now and but I'll be damned if I can explain that shadow.
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