Re: Did I see into the future?
by susancollins » Fri Apr 27, 2012 9:03 am
Nothing is impossible, if we have the will to do, then everything is possible.
Writing as Twain, I never responded to that thread. Now I am not writing as Twain, but as Shakespeare, and it is time to speak of cabbages and kings, and other things, such as
Catsmeat Witnesses Three Precognitive Experiences
As a child, before quantum mechanics penetrated my consciousness, my mother and the religious traditions taught me Calvinist predestination, and my father taught me scientific determinism. I had no way to imagine, without thinking it mere fantasy, that I had free will.
Precognition. My first experience: From the time I was six until I was nine, I continually received impressions that I knew were coming from myself in the future, each time I imprinted, for example. These felt like the Delphic oracle telling me I would kill my Dad in their inevitability and undesirability, and they came true. They continued with decreasing frequency for years.
Now, my imagination is vivid enough that I played with an invisible white rabbit for half a day after watching Harvey. I saw him as clearly as the infinite1 said the car was seen in the precog the above post described. The classic example of the precogs I had was approaching a door, picturing as clear as life the mirror on the door falling to the floor and breaking as I would open it: seeing I hadn't opened the door yet, hearing a voice say "Seven years bad luck", opening the door and experiencing in fact what I had experience in vision.
Since they had to do with the reasons I would be lonely and despised much of my life, I do not want to discuss any others in any detail, except, never having heard it, I knew that I was "homosexual" the first time I saw the word, even tho I had no clew what it meant from knowledge, I knew what the rest of the book would say it about it, although that was the first word I saw, the first time I opened the book.
Harry Hay had the same experience. For clarity, while I would now be considered a repressed homosexual by the standards of 1970, I prefer to think of myself as a repressed bisexual.
At ten, I stopped hearing voices pronouncing oracular dooms. I started having experience like this one. I saw the cover of the 1970 editions of The Lord of the Rings, and knew this was important to me. I am far from the only person to have had that precise imprinting on that text, felt in the same flash. I felt it the first second I saw my ex-wife as well.
Not-quite Precognition At thirteen
Flickers continued for years afterward, and I still get similar impressions, but at about thirteen I grokked quantum mechanics. For three years, I saw myself committing suicides in an alternate time line every day at least once on average, I'd guess. Shakespeare told me a coward would die a thousand deaths, but I lost count after 500.
I am Tiresias.
Not really, but I used those experiences to be him on stage in Oidipos Basileos.
The only time I felt anything similar to the experience of prophesying as Tiresias, I felt as I was feeling I had as Tiresias, harangued by Oidipos, prepared to prophecy; an overwhelming despair as he envisions the fate of the child now grown before him, before the ecstasy of prophecy.
Oct. 7, 2010, I posted “Mathematical Mysticism” in our Spiritual Teachings / Esoteric Wisdom forum . Another datum soon seemed to confirm the prediction made that Language is one of the fundamental constituents of reality. This confirmation lead me to feel I had answered the question of my life which had driven me to 'satiable curiosity since I was two.
About the same time, I had an overwhelming feeling that figuring this out was the reason I existed, and I had no more need to exist, and could sleep in the mother's earth As good as this made me feel, I resisted really believing my own conclusions, as they meant I would have to rethink everything again, but I had already answered the question I had asked myself when I was two, and I couldn't think of any detail interesting enough to make it worth living under Obama to find out.
Then the world depressed me, and, resisting belief in the evidence of my mind and my senses, I severely sank into illness, coming finally within thirty minutes of dying, and only the lack of opiates kept me alive. Over the course of a six month decline, I became aware of the nature of a peculiar sensation I had been having for a year. I felt somehow my energy was being being drained to project my consciousness back to my childhood self, thus accounting for my precognitive experiences.
Then Twain died. What came out of the hospital was a blind see-er on three legs, an Oidipos rejected by the earth. Twain o' Shakespeare (2001-2011) is as gone as my four previous incarnations in this life (I have died on average just once every decade since I was twenty) A few months later, when the bookshelf exploded, I started my return to the world of men and meaning from the hermit's cave I had crawled into to recover, and the scales fell from my eyes,
TS Ross, who has been Tam o Shanter by his father's sophomoric whim, and Tyger Slider, Tech. Srg. and Tough Shit, among others, is now Tiresias o Sophocles.
But call me Catsmeat.