You are at the far north end of Pine Hill Lakes Park sitting
facing the tree leafless hill. Carol is catching up on a Time magazine.
You were going to see a movie today but the weather is sunny and pleasant;
tomorrow it is supposed to rain. Your notes did not transfer from Cloud thus
you don't have what you wrote before bed. - Amorella
One time I woke up after a terrible dream of not being able to
make it home, Downtown. We were attacked by a gang in an inner-urban area near
downtown. We made it to the subway then we crashed in this metal tube (but rose
rather than drop) and I got on some sort of military-like vehicle and we
trudged north in a tractor/tank-like (non-public transportation) machinery
until we reached a point where we had to climb on a boat to continue up a
canal. I thought, 'Where are we going? I want to go downtown to meet family but
I am heading the opposite direction.' There are few passengers and this looks
like no man's land ahead.
Then
I realized upon waking that this was from Ship's perspective. He is lost save
for three 'fellow-like' humanoids. He wants to go home to ThreePlanets. He is
built to run but there is no emergency and he cannot run unless one exists.
That's from the dream. Earlier I wrote something in the notes to work with
today but I don't remember what it was. It is on the iPad, which I took
upstairs to bed, not the MacAir.
The dream is obviously more vivid than the
notes. Give Ship an unconsciousness
of sorts (a dream state) and apply some usable symbolism to 'correct' his
fears. - Amorella
Downtown may mean 'HomePlanets'. If it does then perhaps he
was attracted by someone (a Parent in Charge) who knew about the scheme to
travel to Earth (and secretly hoped it would happen) and tweaked Ship's format
from safety-at-all-cost to curiosity-at-possible-cost. Ship thus wanted to
'touch' fellow machinery even though it was 'alien' and possibly dangerous. A
slight touch would do and Ship thus chose to brush with the Cessna without
knowing the real reason behind it.
Mid-afternoon. Late lunch at the rocking
chairs in front place, a car wash at Mike's, shopping at Walmart then Kroger's
on Mason-Montgomery Road. Busy and busier.
Strange. I keep trying to think of the name of the restaurant
... Chester's Roadhouse comes to mind but they've been gone for years, besides
they were in Montgomery.
I
would like to finish Pouch-7 up tonight. I don't know what Ship is thinking.
Maybe my neuron cells related to information flow are disappearing.
You are now at Kroger's waiting for Carol
with skim milk, mouthwash and bananas. You were going to have spaghetti today
but it is put off until tomorrow.
1542 hours. We are home from today's adventures in living. I
would like to work on Ship's contribution. Now I can give the notes a read.
Here
is my note (shorter than I remembered): [Yermey thinks my original error,
letting the Cessna come too close, was intentional; that it was set up by
someone in ParentsinCharge. I erred, I am sure of it, but I don't know
how," Ship.] Strange enough, I think this led to the dream. I had
completely forgot what I had written. I am definitely using my unconscious mind
in this blog and books, absolutely no question about it.
I
am sure glad I am still taking notes. No mystery behind my writings it's all
here for G---D and readers to see. I would have gone/go crazy trying to keep
all this in my head. I tried doing that once. Even then I couldn't contain
myself I had to share, to talk it out as it were, on paper. Once I am dead this
will be worthless and I'll instruct daughter Kim to destroy everything but
these revised books for Owen and Brennan. I will be able to say "I taught
English for 37 years and wrote three creative novels, a trilogy." That's
pretty good for the likes of me as far as I am concerned.
Let's complete Pouch-7 so we can move on,
boy. - Amorella
2134
hours. This is what I have but it needs work.
***
Pouch-7 concluded
In
the pending short marsupial humanoid silence Ship stirred into cognition. 'I,
Ship, understand Yermey's words. They are meant for me too. The information
processed through various channels unimpeded. This is Ship's data fully
understood.
I,
Ship, am in a terrible dream. I cannot run Home. The alien Cessna attacked me.
We would have crashed but in my maneuvering we only touched. In saving her I
rose up as she dropped. I, Ship, reached a point where I had to save Family but
I am forbidden to run Home unless so ordered by captain or crew who are
pres
ently safe. Yermey's vitals tell me I am suspected of error. Friendly and
Hartolite's vitals show me they are struck in a thought I cannot read through
vitals. 129 w
***
Let's do it this way. - Amorella
I,
Ship, am in a terrible state. I let the alien Cessna touch me. My maneuvering
allowed only a slight touch. I need to be re-validated at HomePlanets; however,
I cannot leave without an extreme unordered emergency to run to HomePlanets.
Friendly and Hartolite are struck by Yermey's words. His vitals show me he
feels I erred-in-a-purpose. I have no purpose other than to escort-in-safety-first.
The Cessna came onto me. I attempted to jar Cessna's instrumentation
magnetically but failed. The Cessna engine should have stopped but it did not.
Pouch-7
is complete. Add and post. - Amorella
***
Pouch - 7 completed nfd
Pyl
said, "I am glad you understand, Blakie."
"We
would just be investing the money at this time in our lives. No need and not a
good time for investing anyway. Dad would like that we are not selling. It was
a rush anyway. Out of the blue someone wants to buy our plane. Odd in itself,
and in the middle of January too; in Cleveland no less."
"I
think it is strange too," spoke Justin. "Lindsey didn't know what
dissimilar meant in context. She appeared to be analyzing the word. Her sister,
Michael goes by Mykkie. Michael Carlson sounds much more feminine than Mykkie.
Both have the same last name. Both are certainly old enough to have been
married."
"Right,"
commented Pyl sarcastically. They both have the same last name. They should be
married at their age. Such mature observations."
Blake
smiled cautiously while seeing Justin change his face from curious to a silent
piquing aggravation. "Don't get riled," noted Blake, not realizing
his diplomatic filter had drifted away, "I've had to put up with her
feminist tongue a lot longer than you have." To which he uncontained
himself by laughing aloud and adding, "Penis envy, no doubt."
Pyl
caught his misinforming smile and retorted, "I hardly envy yours, my dear
brother."
"Shot
down, Blakie," quipped Justin in a slightly tempered grin.
***
Yermey
sat comfortably in the chair-with-meditation-mode-max. He heard Friendly and
Hartolite enter the room-in-mind-place from his far-away-right like the gentle
rustling of leaves ahead on his solitary path. Though his body lay motionless
Yermey shifted his notions to the left and his mind circulated left into a
relocated thought.
We
have taken the courage to come to Earth on our own, independent of our elected
Council of Parents-in-Charge and our many Three-Planet kin and untied cousins.
The primary objective is to instill into these humanized primates that we are
real, that Three-Planets is real and exists in the shared space of this
galactic-pouch and that we here-without-polite-invitation on their planet.
Our
Parents-in-Charge are more fearful of these similar though alien beings than
they are in their much-weathered patience to acknowledge and greet. They lack
the foresight and courage to learn, to accept that though our civilization is
twenty thousand years advanced we may be missing an aspect of our humanity this
much younger civilization still has.
Our
being here on Earth is to show a just equality among both of our species even
though we have a technical advantage through our sciences and mathematics. Our
separate species philosophies are so similar to be almost identical. Our
separate species sense-of-equality is
in our recognition of heartansoulanmind. This is what we must show through our
kindness and patience. This is why we are here; this is what we are about.
"What's
on your mind, Yermey?" asked Friendly. "I know you are in a
consideration. Something is up in your head."
"What
is it, should we still be concerned about the plane?" continued Hartolite.
She added, "We think so."
Yermey
fully opened his eyes and quickly sat upright. "Ship says the Cessna is clean
on all points but one."
"Which
is?" said Friendly in surprise as she had just monitored Ship herself and
found the plane clean.
"The
time slip. One minute does not correlate with the plane computers and
Ship."
"A
minute means nothing by itself. The Earthlings do not have access to Ship to
discern any difference," responded Hartolite.
"A
minute has to be relative to something," reinforced Friendly.
"It
is relative to us," said Yermey with more heart in his voice than mind. We
come here unannounced and without invitation. When we make ourselves known, to
whomever we do this first. These three people will know who we are and assume
that we are deceptive in our intentions, because this is what we are being
presently."
In
the pending short marsupial humanoid silence Ship stirred into cognition. 'I,
Ship, understand Yermey's words. They are meant for me too. The information
processed through various channels unimpeded. This is Ship's data fully
understood.
I, Ship, am in a
terrible state. I let the alien Cessna touch me. My maneuvering allowed only a
slight touch. I need to be re-validated at HomePlanets; however, I cannot leave
without an extreme unordered emergency to run to HomePlanets. Friendly and
Hartolite are struck by Yermey's words. His vitals show me he feels I
erred-in-a-purpose which caused the touch. I have no purpose other than to escort-in-safety-first. The
Cessna came onto me. I attempted to jar Cessna's instrumentation magnetically
but failed. The Cessna engine should have stopped but it did not.
768 words
***
Thank you, Amorella.
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