In a dream of skyscrapers
by Jon Rappoport
February 18, 2016
(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)
Was sitting in my office, asleep in my chair.
In the dream, two immense skyscrapers. Each one had its own landscape, its own sky, its own rivers and oceans. It was impossible to see the end of any dimension. Each building had its own space-time as well. When people tried to cross from one structure to the other, they were baffled, confused, and frightened. They couldn’t make sense of what was going on. The spoken and written languages were vastly different.
Two men met, each from his own building. They worked for a long time trying to develop a mutual language, and they failed, time after time. They tried to compare notes on the differences in space-time. Again, nothing.
A tyrant arose in one of the buildings. He and his troops penetrated the core of the other structure, where they suspected a machine was generating that skyscraper’s continuum. They were never seen again. Stories circulated: they had been smothered, squashed, flattened.
A man who called himself the Love Guru emerged in one of the buildings. He said an invasion of All-Love would solve the problem. “Embrace the Other” was his motto. He led hundreds of followers into the other building. Screams were heard for some time, and then that troop simply vanished.
Then came the scholar. He had a huge book with pictures of hundreds of paintings. Some looked “real.” Others were grossly distorted. He studied these works for some time and then strolled into the other building. He was never heard from again.
Finally, a man named Krag Nut said, “Why bother trying to understand the Others in the Other Building? Just go in there and live. See what happens over time.”
Strangely, no one had suggested this before.
So a few hundred people tried it.
Here is a brief excerpt from The History of the Osmotic Change:
“For the first six years, we frankly had no idea what was happening. We couldn’t understand their language. Their space and time were disorienting, to say the least. We termed them crooked and distorted. Were their days or nights longer? We couldn’t figure out an answer. There were holes in space and you could walk through them and find little floating islands on the other side. Then, gradually, we began to Know. We absorbed the changes. We began to grasp their speaking and writing. It was a kind of inside-out proposition. We were inside and worked our way back to the surface of the language. Their words are vague at the outset (inset) and then become more specific.
“This is how they analyze. They keep circling around a question with odd statements and move closer to a definite answer. It’s somewhat like landing a plane in a storm. You bounce and circle, and finally you bring the plane down on to the runway. It’s quite exhilarating.
“I would describe their spiritual life this way: the god is in you, and then you move out and find the same god outside you, and then it disappears altogether. The process appears to be a joke, and everyone gets the joke.
“Some have claimed that our acclimation was a surrender of our own heritage. But that is not the case. We retain what we know and believe (which of course is different from person to person). We then also penetrate into the Others’ way of life. As far as we can tell, that way of life has no end of exploration. They are always on the move, always seeking, always traveling through what we view as broken prisms of space. One of their sayings is, ‘There is no One.’ It seems to be a foundation of their culture.
“Many of their kind never return from their journeys. They go, and don’t come back. Some reappear with new talents. They can play the violin or design machines.
“They have no money here. They trade memories. We haven’t yet learned the trick. So a person’s past is made up of his own and other people’s. They don’t seem to mind. They enjoy recollection.
“They occasionally elect a king or queen. After a little while, the ruler steps down. No one cares.”
I woke up and went into the President’s office for the morning briefing. I looked at him. Broken red veins on his cheeks. One eye turns to the side and stares through glass at the human race. A few square inches of his forehead fall off. A dried out eye drops to the carpet. He may be composed like a puzzle. One piece may be part of a cheekbone plus a lip plus four teeth plus a fragment of his moustache.
The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.
This is amazing! Saw this and thought of the artist who created an encyclopedia of an imaginary world. My imagination skills are in the atrophy stage, and I hope one day to see something and then convey it into my physical world.
One of the skyscraper was built by the establishment New World Order.
The other skyscraper, was built by Donald Trump, where freedom exists and people are motivated to use their imagination and creativity to build new reality and infinite new horizons.
I have missed these stories.
I like this one…and now one for you.
The portals are everywhere.
I think a majority of people don’t even realize that they exist; and those that are left are mad from the knowledge, believing themselves mad, because they know they are there…and so they are locked away or babbling foolishly to themselves.
At first I thought, when I went to sleep at night, someone came changed the whole thing, and that it was a test, and the point of my day was to get back to the one I liked. Or started at; I don’t know which one I started at now, it’s been so long.
I mean there was more than one you could like, you could like a lot of them; they weren’t all strange. But some were really bizarre, nightmarish, and dangerous.
Some even with the slightest of differences. The smallest of things, the color red was missing in one, and replaced with another color I had never seen before.
There is one were everyone likes me, and they love me. They are always doing things for me. giving me items. or asking me to go along on unusual experiences with them. Everybody of importance. It got to the point that they would travel to my door to see me. It’s actually became quite horrible and amnoying…people always watching me. I would go to the mall and people were watching, and waiting for me to speak to them so they run up to me and make foils of themselves…I hated it.
Wherever I would go, I always live in the best house in town.
In some of them I am hunted down, for doing something, I don’t know what it is. But I am tracked and chased mercilessly, and then then I escape their clutches. And I always seem to be able to escape in that one. I am chased and harassed constantly.
In another one, quite perplexing; the only difference was a small mole about the size of the head of a pin, to the right of the mouth about an inch and a half, and down about an inch towards the chin; everyone had it.
But me, they all had stopped noticing they had it. They had taken it for granted I guessed, because they could’nt see it anymore… but I could see it. Plain as day. There it was on everybody’s face, to the right and down, exact same place. It was the only thing I thought about there. That mole.
I stopped mentioning these things that I had noticed when I was a child. It got me in a lot of trouble. It would upset the ones that took care of me, the ones that loved me or had authority over me; only adults seemed to be bothered by it, children never questioned it when I told them about these things. But tell an adult and I would quickly be raced of to see another adult who was expert in such things. But strangely ‘they’ could’nt see the portals.
So I decided not to tell anyone about them ever again.
I notice now that as I get older that I manipulate which ones I wake up in, and sometimes if I am not paying attention I wake up inside one that I have totally forgotten I created during a night of dreaming. And then I notice something throughout that day that brings me back to the dream, and I realize.
Or in some way, I have imagined an answer to question, or some profound thought I had been mulling over for sometime, and there it will be, a portal. I have sometimes played with multiple answers, just to see the outcome.
Lately I have gone back to some that I lived in for while, weeks or months and correcting some of my, how should I call it…my, malfeasances.
Yes in some I took control when I should’not have. Let’s leave it at that.
I think that I have discovered something that only I am aware of, or that I can do…and possibly everyone else can do it, but they don’t know how to.
They have not learned to do it yet. Could I teach it?
I am not sure, I haven’t thought about it. I am too busy exploring.
And so now I move from one to the other, sometimes back, sometimes forward. Sometimes I have gone back to childhood portals to experience a specific day, were I am clear and a child, young and new, and in the Spring sun and happy…oh so desperately happy.
I have a tendency to forget a lot. I am not sure how old I am now, I not sure how long I have done this…maybe, I have always been doing it.
Brilliant! Thank you for posting it.
This may be overly simplistic, but I’ll try.
It’s a present day Earth thing.
In light of the unending disputes, argumentations, border attacks, cultural bickerings, etc.:
If simple respect, for others worlds would do.
Perhaps, we could mutually erect fences, most so for simple definition. This could be temporary.
We could always stand at fence’s edge & converse, if both parties would like.
We could view (not spy) the others ways & means & declare interest, if true.
We would offer the same to them.
Perhaps it’s too childish.