Last night I heard a pop on the wall again. My mind was racing with too much thinking. The I did an AI visual of the area where I would walk around during lunch time. I saw the trees and thought to myself about focusing within.

I did just that and zoomed into my alter self of that place but at the same time felt myself resting comfortably on my bed that night. I felt my crown chakra open up and then my `upper wings` flutter upwards and fanning out but only a few degrees, not beyond my shoulders. That happened for but a few moments and then the sensation of fluttering energy dissipated.

They say that when you point your finger at someone, three more fingers point back at you. On Thursday, I told Vinnie L. that I use the keyboard more than the mouse because my right index finger is used for pointing.

After taking a watery poop a few moments ago, my thumb rifted through the pages of `The Teaching` by DB. This time the page was 179. I’d like to share a couple more truths:

“They waited for me to come along and then counted on my perceived weakness to aid a fellow human in distress. Noble motives almost cost me my life.”

“In some future life, I will help you, not hurt you as I have in this one.”

So it is. Don’t expect miracles but accept reality that some day your kindness will be returned.

After breakfast this morning, I told Maw of my experience while working as a temp at SJ Water Company off First Street. Long ago, a disgruntled state employee shot and killed, I believe, ten people. I was sitting at a desk facing the light-rail off First Street. Everyday, I’d see flashes of bright lights twice or more. I didn’t feel pain but the pounding pressure of seeing these quick mental images.

Maw then recalled a television programming on ghosts. Vincent Curatola saw his father walk to an old Ford truck. The old ghost wore the same clothes and hat. I then told Maw that maybe in that dimension his father was still alive but in Vincent’s dimension he is dead.

Then after pooping again, I was reading `The Significance of the One` by DB. In Chapter 8 of the first paragraph, I know how the `torrent of tears` feel like – the separations and then the returns. On page 74 of that same chapter, here is another truth worth sharing:

“Time and distance are illusions.”

What Vincent and I experienced where illusions. What we saw, heard and felt was as we were re-living what was a time – a reality – long gone but at the same time co-exists but sometimes goes beyond our perceptions, given the limitations of our senses, which almost always do not lie.