At the End of the Tunnel

is it wrong of me to see the light at the end of the tunnel and want to dance and skip gleefully rather than float a little unwillingly always trying to hold back and wait for the voices to bring me back? I want this really. It's not that I'm impatient so much that I have been all too patient in this life and know that is definitely one of the things I want to change in the next.

Hell I have chewed through many partners and roommates. I have chewed through education upon education. I am constantly learning and absorbing all around me like "The Blob"...I call it a gift. Like counting cards or being savant towards music and the arts. I am able to do whatever I choose and be whomever I want to be and what I want to be is dead. For a little while. I am not afraid of the pain factor and actually tingle with anticipation for that aspect as pain equates arousal to my brain. I am not afraid of the hereafter or lack thereof, for those of you who don't believe in anything at all, as I know full well what is after the final curtain. I relish being able to not be bound by my body's limitations and be able to come and go as I please between this life and time and the next or previous. Time really is relative after all. So I dream of the past and of the future and get signals and messages from the great beyond all the time. I just wish they wouldn't make it seem so wonderful and entertaining. I don't see faeries or wings and halos and white fluffy clouds. I see it as a change of venue, of occupation and the ability to fix things that are broke and to perfect those that aren't. I'm close, everyone knows I believe this. But really I am close. I have few lessons in this world to be had and I have many to teach the "not yet birthed" when I am "home."

Let me tell you what I see. I see a place like a checking station and there are people coming and going on an invisible path or tram. Only the people are surreal and only echoes of their previous selves and more of lit matter or glowing strands of energy. Not one has a mouth so, therefore, cannot speak but we all communicate through a primal form of telepathy. Hell, I even do it now with lay creatures and animals and plants and new babies. Nothing is "spoken" unless needs to be because we have total access to all's thoughts whether they want it that way or not. It is a time of truths and there is no room for chatter as most all have places to be. Some need to check out or leave for destinations unknown and some need to check in and account for the last several decades and then get reassigned to a new post or go to be retrained. It is very tidy and orderly and some even choose to just stay for a visit and perfect some of their skills, much in the same way a samurai would have some five thousand years ago. He has gone off on his own to train and hone his skills returning only when he felt he was done and had no more to improve upon. Then he'd learn a new lesson and start the process all over. Life is so less complicated there as there are no expectations. We all have things to do and no one bucks the system. Even those who would appear in charge.

So a few days ago I had another recurring dream. Nothing special in it except it was a recounting of my past, my deep past. I have recounted all the horrors I have seen and now it would appear that I am starting to recount for my pleasures as well. I went back this time to childhood happiness. I was walking the streets of the city to which I was born. Only I am viewing things from all different eras even some not my own. When I came to the street my grandmother on my mother's side was there were shops and people going about their business which seemed to be gambling and dancing and drinking in the street and on the sidewalks. The closer I got to my grandparent's home the younger and shorter I was to the people and surroundings. I was still an adult of mind but I had this feeling of renewed strength and small of stature. I came upon my grandfather tinkering in the long driveway to the old home and ran up to him and jumped into his arms. He told me I was doing good and it was getting close to time. It wasn't time yet but will be soon and before he could get to the doorstep to the house, I woke up.

The funny thing is I have had similar variations of this dream over and over and over. Each had its own result and each time I was awakened with a sense of something needs to be finished. I have been busting my ass to finish things and to tidy my own things to make my small future in order for when my time comes. Only the city and area keeps hounding me and haunting me. Some of the architecture changes in each and is morphing into something I barely recognize. I have my suspicions on what it all means but no answers yet and feel I am being pulled down a tunnel to an end and that these faces and places from my past are preparing me for my end. I am alright with this and have comfort in the know that my family and community is still "shaping" me even in death. I will make good on my unfinished business and then soon after we shall see.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.