GHOST RESCUE

GHOST RESCUE

By Paul Schroeder

(Copyright 2016, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)
<Edited by Robert D. Morningstar>
*******
Sometimes, after abductions, the inter-dimensional door, left open, invites in the “gangster fringe” element of the spirit world.
I have heard astonishing things most unverifiable about Heaven, from ribald odd psychic mediums:
Too heavy smokers retain visibly black lungs, the vain- cosmetic- surgery- addicted, sport disfigured countenances, those too rich, ornate and gaudy, appear homely and threadbare.
According to some psychics, there is an inverse relationship between our aspects, after death, in transition, in an astral world, that mirrors and reflect our damages, foolishness and wrong values, from one’s  life most recently departed.
Who could foresee or imagine such instant spiritually blatant karma-ricochets ?
To skeptics or to the religiously programmed, I assert that the theory that consciousness ends with physical death, has never been proved, to me.
If one examines diverse spiritual phenomena: demonic possession, OBEs, NDEs, hauntings, poltergeists, reincarnation memories through regressive hypnosis, just to mention a few, the undeniable evidence of a spiritual reality looms as obvious as a trout in the milk.
We should all be born with lunch boxes for our stay here, in this school, is short, compared to the eternal spark of God within us that endures.
We step out of our body when we physically die , just as we do step out of our cars and our clothing, and we are no more our bodies than we are our cars or clothing.
Psychics and mediums well know this.
Our spirits, if not stolen by demons or reptilian aliens, or stuck, Earthbound,  move on to one of the very many varied realms of Heaven.

Spirits in beginning transition,  vulnerable to being stolen by reptilian aliens to be recycled, or garnered by demons who collect souls like children do marbles, will often  linger to stay close to us.
Since only our ‘clothing’, or our body’s external shell is buried,
visiting a cemetery is moot, because the loving spirits of our dead  travel with us there, and return from there, with us.
But, Earthbound sinister dark souls, and inhuman diabolical spirits, will persist within cemeteries.
Pregnant mothers are restricted from attending cemeteries by many religions, to offer protection to the unborn, from  opportunistic sinister spirits.
Certain minerals in stones, such as ferrous, jasper, tourmaline and quartz,  carried by some sensitives, can assist, and
can act as a deterrent.
I have also gleaned that The “LIGHT”, into which we enter, to ‘cross over’, at physical death, is not outward and external, but emanates from WITHIN us, at death, a detail overlooked and  unrecognized .
But, what about trapped ghosts?
 In our natural spirit state we are ghosts:
fogs of electromagnetic energy ,with memory and a sense of identity.
Ghost-hunters need a glimmer  that spirits who they document,  SHOULD BE rescued; this lack of moral recognition, risks  “depraved indifference”, a  moral crime.
Circus or rodeo’s audiences applause,  watching  abused animals hard- beaten- perform postures unnatural to their natures , is  similarly a ‘depraved indifference’.
Circus and rodeo  lovers, like ghost-  hunters, return to their cars to  leave a chunk of their spiritual evolution, behind..
We get a sure ride to Earth, from Heaven, at birth, but no guarantees for a safe return trip home.
When my psychic prowess began to sputter on, I initially was aware of so many ghosts afoot everywhere, that it made me doubt Heaven’s very existence.
1957 - Year of the Cock <br /> Computer Generated Phot... <br /> Manimals <br /> 1993 <br />
1946 - Year... <br /> Computer Ge... <br /> Manimals <br /> 1993 <br />
Trapped human spirits are ‘provoked’ by ghost-hunters to elicit evidences, and are  seen as sport, like an animal abused at a rodeo or circuses.
With ghosts, I think of the chrysalis that never emerges, the cocoon frozen and dead,  a human spirit lost in anguish between life and death.
My heart breaks and I am sullen for the unfairness of  God’s promise gone unkept, the return dream of Heaven, now deferred.
How and when did I learn that an unseen world exists all around us?
Picture - A Buddhist and Hindu temple Wat Rong Khun in Chiang Rai, Thailand  Also known as the White Temple  It was designed by Chalermchai Kositpipat. Fotosearch - Search Stock Photography, Photos, Prints, Images, and Photo Clipart
It blossomed
The feeling of unseen human hands and their undeniable touches on my arms, back and shoulders, with concurrent accompanying psychic disturbances  increased.
At restaurants, often a warm, heavy hand resides on my shoulder, for a moment, with no one observable, behind me, friendly but unsettling encounters.
I  feel symptoms of a dark one, a lost soul/ ghost, who jumps on me, and an energy connection is felt, in that my skin burns and buzzes where I am  touched and connection are made..
Sometimes that awareness crashes crystal clear:
Medusa HeadI recently had a very “odd in- your- face” encounter with a“Shadow Person.”
Sitting at my computer, writing long into the wee hours, the screen’s glow the only illumination in the room, I slowly became aware of a gradual peripheral movement alongside my right cheek, that moved forward into view, to emerge directly facing me.
A black silhouette of a face, illuminated by the neon glow of the computer screen, a side view of a profile of a slim young man, emerged which then quickly turned, to face me straight on.
A full second before I loudly exclaimed and shouted, an involuntary reaction, I could see a slim, thin human face darker than the room’s darkness, fully facing me.
As I have purposefully unlearned fear, the shout was instinctive and only awe surfaced.
But it was a “Shadow Person” up close and intimate.
At one time, in order to block these experiences, knowing that some medications did change brain chemistry to the extent,  to simply put one beyond the reach of such creatures, I tried antihistamines and did indeed manage to stop it all, temporarily.  I had read that on the Internet and just wanting to feel normal, again, tried it on myself.
I don’t know how it works but it works … temporarily.
But, one can’t live on Benedryll.
Other medications have specifically been developed for people who are troubled by ‘seeing things’, ‘hearing things’ and ‘feeling things’ and these were
pharmacologically designed because modern medicine makes no differentiation, no distinctions between spiritual dysfunctions and psychological dysfunctions.
A modern clinician  unversed in such spiritual truths, perceives a child patient who experiences these phenomena as more psychotic than  psychic, certainly not ever a young ‘sensitive’, who has not yet learned how, but must, to  close his energies, to such entities… 
I was told by others early on that what I was going through was a blessing.   I did not accept that at the time.   It has been a tough learning experience for both me and the unseen world.
I once advised a spirit whose hand rested heavily on my right shoulder -I could feel the weight and span of fingers- to “cross over to the other side”-  meaning that other dimension that we all come from and go to, ‘Heaven’.
  After just a few seconds, it obliged my request, by crossing over to my left side, and  good naturedly resting its hand, THERE, on my shoulder..
I deduced that rather than having a rarefied sense of humor,  it likely had no idea whatsoever, what I was referring to…
Another major problem for psychic sensitives, is that of all the spiritual energies, unseen, out there, many are NOT human; some are reptilian alien.
When a demon or juvenile reptilian cruises in, for what turns out to be an extended visit, an onset of the most awful nightmares, unlike any one can imagine, vivid and terrifying, ensue.
Such brilliant diabolical entities refuse rescue and delight in tormenting humans; nothing else except unholy ones could do such violence to mere dreams.
Scary blood with an evil halloween vampire character splattered and dripping on a white background as a spooky symbol of danger and fear as paranormal fantasy icon  Stock Photo - 21743139
During such sieges, in spiritual crises, I have had to neatly discard any classic pedestrian Freudian or Jungian explanations as misguided and moot, and instead  to seek metaphysical approaches that do, after a fashion, work.
In self defense,  with heightened empathy for an energy who jumps upon me, I counsel with love and compassion, as one would a lost traveler or lost child.  It could well be you, or me, so lost.
I used to dismiss an unseen touch as though it were a fly at my mustache, or treat it with the disgust or shock that a ghost often elicits.
Then I tried to openly complain to the spirit, that phantoms DO-  fill -the- air – around us, and that although we all come from God, one way or another, some of us  fight  hard,  to return to God.
I relay this to the unseen intelligence touching me, with a lack of fear and with  pathos, as much sympathy as I can muster.
All the while, I am fully aware that it could likely be psychically dangerous, as deeply disturbed as it had been, in its body.
If it ever HAD a body..
If it’s “sticky”, and persistent , I surround myself in a three-feet-around-me violet cloud of love, to dissuade it, in a fashion..
The worst, most predatory and harmful negative energies ‘out there’, for a sensitive to sense, are juvenile reptilians and small dark grey aliens. They come on like gang-busters,  insistently stubborn and ‘hungry’ for my energies.
When such  painful burning touches apprise me that connections between my energies and dark energies are continuing,  a spritz of incensed holy water mixed with tea tree and camphor essential oils from a plant misting bottle clears the attachment feeling and the onset of mild psychic attack.
I tell spirits who touch me more gently, them that it’s sad and  ironic that God has sent them to me for help,  for I myself, spiritually, am  so often  helplessly lost.
I  tell them that touching people for energy, stealing energy from people,  traps them here, between worlds, where they are subject to bullying or worse, theft, by astral – fierce-predators, afoot.
I ask them to reach higher into their own dimension,  to  ask for angelic help as I do the same, in mine.  I remind them that since they didn’t die when they left their body, that they cannot  die, and insist that they not steal human energy; humans look  like bright porch lights to them.  Some do not listen, because they still feel so, ‘alive’, though not in their physical body.
The retort I have more than once heard in my skull was:
“How do I know, that YOU’RE not dead!?”
Some, however, do listen.
I ask   rescue beings of light to work to bring  a neighbor, a lover, a child, a former pet, a parent, a friend, a schoolmate, ANYONE, SOMEONE whom they can trust, to bring them over, to the Other Side.
I try not to surround them in a white light , for negative-thought-beings can feast on white light, which is why they go initially quiescent, only to come on, again, later,  like gang-busters.
Visualized purple light, used for self-defense, can also  ‘wash off and cleanse’ the external blackness surrounding a dark spirit, who is half- willing to be rescued.
Such a ‘wash’ of purple light onto such  creatures couched in blackness, always soon reveals a tiny, faint pearl- like light within the dark one,  my proof to it, of God’s creation of it.
Then, ONLY THEN,  bereft of its outer shell of darkness,  and meanness will I send it into a tower of white light, which contains the hidden full color spectrum with gradations of each color  a different dimension of (earned) Heaven.
Some dark spirits can only freely go into red light, or orange light, to find their rightful place, towards their next perfection; all varied colored spiritual destinations, not unlike a rainbow, are contained  hidden within white light.
However, this cleansing and rescue is best and more safely done within a circle of minds, with a psychic-medium also in attendance.    Creative metaphysics, towards rescues, using just one human mind can be dangerous  as some entities/energies out there, are quite amazingly nasty, brilliant and diabolical. Self-defense evolved into a changed outlook:
I pray FOR them, instead of for my relief FROM them.
It raises their vibrations and moves them out of the darkness and is appreciated by them and by others, and is considered,”service to the other side’.
I also try to goad them into the finer purpose, of helping me:
I ask them to leave as ‘ Earthbound’ spirits,  travel to the Christ light, and RETURN to me, as cleansed spirits to assist me in others’ rescue.

What usually appeals to  ‘holdouts’,  is  reminding them that nobody  has spoken to them, or  paid any attention to them, for a  long time, except for me.   With a more humane stance, rarely do they attack with projected telepathic/psychic attacks, in nightmares, or sinister poltergeist machinations . I have bought some peace and I have done some service to the Other Side.
Ghost-hunters are the front line in this real endeavor, the rescue of ghosts, for in spiritually rescuing others, they can spiritually rescue themselves.
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AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

by Paul Schroeder

A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path:
“The Spell of the Yukon”
               By Robert W. Service
“I wanted the gold, and I sought it;
   I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy—I fought it;
   I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it—
   Came out with a fortune last fall,—
Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it,
   And somehow the gold isn’t all…”
I rarely ever worked overtime, or sought spare part- time jobs to make more money, seeking blue skies above to doing work indoors, and I relished my poorer beer pockets without ever developing or resenting the absence of a richer champagne taste.
Those ambitious lads of my childhood who entered finance, medicine or law,  worked 24-7 towards a salaried lifestyle that flew them first class, overseas to luncheon meetings and purchased them mansions in the  glass sky towers of Manhattan.
Effete, they would confess,”Those who say that money can’t buy you everything, don’t know where to shop!”
I  became a college instructor teacher who received a meager pittance, but though  I relished my bankers’ hours’ 9 to 3  job, I deeply longed for the respite of work, each academic year, within a ten week vacation, over the summer.
During academic semesters I recklessly ate up all of my sick days and personal days, taking escapes in the sun at the beach, and landscaped land escapes in three and four day weekends, at mountain lakes’ sites to hike in virgin woods alone.
Others in Higher Education had instead garnered many days, ‘in their bank’, saved up jealously, to trade for cash, losing one day for every two saved, upon retirement.
To me, counter intuitively, non providentially, time away to think was worth more, as an escape valve,  than half of some obscure future money.
Work was onerous and exacting, and freedom was a hiking-in-the-woods- relief, from fluorescent overhead lights, and the grinding grading of incessant exams and papers.
For release,  the best part of my chosen vocation, I lectured and pontificated, teaching American and English Literature, in a large lecture hall,  chain-smoking unfiltered cigarettes, during class instructions, throughout, to self medicate.
I am presently retired, thirty-five years in teaching, and have a modest lovely home and property, and as for wanderlust, I  have long found that armchair travel is the cheapest kind of travel, content to read brochures, than take inoculations, to explore the world.
Money aversion- ennui got worse as I grew older.
 I soon preferred the sidelines of copious earnings, a spent man, seeking  to relax and to write.
Why was I, so different, to care little for “success”, measured in hard work towards riches?
I wasn’t remotely money excited,  as a child, dimly knowing on a subliminal level that God didn’t place us here, on Earth,  on a special mission,  to make money.
A spiritual message experience, I received, as a teenager, a homeless runaway at seventeen, running from a divorced household of violence and police- being -called -by- the -neighbors,
became a core influence for my slant on monied life, a purposeful one of just getting by, instead of working hard towards earning luxuries.
It was Christmas time in New York City and I was seventeen years old, homeless penniless,  and wandering.
I had exited  the Museum of Natural History on Central Park West, where I had feasted for hours, on museum eye -candy, but my stomach  had rumbled with hunger.
And now back on the street, I found that it had been and was now, snowing heavily.
I wondered worriedly where I would sleep, that night.
 A local movie manager,  a friend, Paul Gary, said that I could, when in Brooklyn, sleep in a little used old loft room in his movie theatre, the Loews Oriental, in Bath Beach, Brooklyn, in a dusty, haunted costume property room.
I was the inhabiting spirit.
The smell of freshly roasted chestnuts,  sold to passerbys from a kiosk wagon, near to the museum’s stone steps, in a blizzard of snow, wafted my way and roused me.
I had no money in my pockets; I salivated at the  sweet nutty perfume.
 Chestnuts were a seasonal treat I had  enjoyed, at this very museum’s site, when I had a bountiful existence within my cantankerous parents’ marriage’s deep pockets’ circle of influence.
I would ask my parents,  they’d  fish for loose change and I would relish the sweet flavor of fire roasted hot chestnuts, now a new symbol of want and the faded memory of childhood .
I was alone upon the streets of Manhattan, hungry and had no money.
The  snow covered shoulders and face of the man who stood behind the kiosk wagon, were wrapped in steam; he was small and dark, wearing mittens with holes for the fingers.
The snow fell heavily in sheets that made a city of asphalt shock look gentler.
I  came close enough to  inhale the dark aroma of roasted chestnuts,  a childhood memory token, an olfactory solace for my pangs of hunger.
 I  noticed that on one side of his kiosk wagon hung a large piece of grey cardboard with a blue magic marker message upon it, his philosophy of the moment, but on an unconscious level, one  for the rest of my adult life.
A raised consciousness was sparked.
It read:
“I really don’t like making money;
I don’t want to conquer the world,
and I don’t wish to ever be rich;
I don’t even want to set the world, on fire;
 I just want to keep my nuts warm.”
A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path.

ALIEN-ABDUCTION MIND-CONTROL


                                          Alien Mind Scan

 

ALIEN MIND CONTROL DURING ABDUCTIONS

By Paul Schroeder

(Copyright 2014, Paul Schroeder – All Rights Reserved)
<Edited by Robert D. Morniingstar>
*******
Picture
Author’s note:
I am “he”
And this recollection is genuine.
However, I chose the pronoun, “he”, to make this vividly recalled abduction, more easily acceptable to the uninitiated reader.
ABDUCTION RECOLLECTION:

He is flying high over a lush green tree landscape, over rolling tree lined hills and though he knows that it must be night, within the tractor light-beam, under a moving craft,  the fields and countryside below are lit up as though it were day, but he knows it’s night, because he is told that he is dreaming.

 He is flying, floating above a tree landscape.
For a few brief seconds, until he is drawn into the craft, he sees the green granular nature of the trees below, and feels the  visual exhilaration of flying, but rather than fear, he is filled with a combined sense of peace and joyous happiness.

He marvels at the texture and color of his neighborhood, and his movement above it.

Going Over A Waterfall GIF - Waterfall Nature Forest GIFs

He is dreaming, but he is awake.The smaller craft lands near a much larger ship, hiding in plain sight, in a field.

A long ramp extends from and to the ship.

 

He is told by a small, dark, grey alien, always just out of sight, that he is to wait on line, for a tour of a country estate.

People stand on the ramp and slowly move forward

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He is numb and is  surreal vividly dreaming,  but he feels that he is awake.He  moves forward, people in front of him and in back of him,   on a narrow path surrounded by a false screen memory of a flat, unidimensional static scene,  a photograph of an English garden.

It is hot and humid with the rank smell of soil.

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People clutch what looks like brochures and move slowly in a single line, towards the country estate, bored, and only mildly interested.

He approaches the door of the large alien craft.

A ticket taker sits at the entrance way, on a stool behind a lectern, observing the entering crowd, a doorway official seen as a slim teenager.

He thinks it odd, that such a young caretaker should seemingly be in charge, and as he lifts his eyes to meet the teen’s gaze,  the young boy turns into a kindly old man.

“It’s mind control, not shape-shifting”, he is told, by a sonorous tour-guide’s voice, in answer to his unasked thought.

Image result for tumblr gifs of shape shifting aliens

Everyone is awake and dreaming.

Inside is a waiting room, dirty, dull and round, a white room with no adornments and a black floor.


He awakens, dreaming and feels that the room is in flight.

It is a dream within a dream.

Going Over A Waterfall GIF - Waterfall Nature Forest GIFs

Awake again, briefly, he is dreaming while standing upright, walking in his sleep, climbing  a steep metal stairway ladder path-bridge, that leads to a very large room at the top of the stairs.

Someone in front of him dreams, and wakes up dreaming.

He looks to his right, as he climbs, to see  an enormous domed -curved window which makes up the staircase’s whole upper wall of the alien craft, and as he climbs, feeling very numb, he pauses, and stops the line of mass abducted people.

He looks out of the window and sees the Earth and the Moon, opposite each other, hanging in the blackness of space.   He places his arms on the curved railing where the staircase meets the bottom of the window and cups his chin in his hands, to understand the raw beauty of what he sees:

Outside is blackness…

 

The Earth, in the far right portion of the glass window, hangs suspended in a black nothingness, a planet swimming in blue-white haze, with a large red area, perhaps, the desert of North Africa, or the Arabian peninsula.
A Time-Lapse of Earth taken by Elektro-L, The Russian Weather Satellite that Operates in Geostationary Orbit. (io9) Silver and bright, the Moon, far to the left portion of the glass, also hangs suspended in a black nothingness..

Far away, violet splashes of nebulae, and points of red pinpoint starlight, intersperse with millions of white stars.

Chin in his hands, he leans over and says in a wistful, admiring tone,

“These people who live at THIS estate have some view; what a view!”

The small, dark, grey alien tour guide became startled and all at once,  the window’s 3-D space scene, becomes  a painted uni-dimensional flat portrait,  of an English garden landscape.Chin in hands, still looking out of the window, but now at the expanse of poster-like green lawn, of a garden landscape, he dully repeats,

“They DO have a nice view!”

The tour guide, startled to hear him repeat this praise, seemingly unaware that the scene of the garden had already worked to distract him,  knee-jerk- reflex -overreacted; he is slammed with a mind control jolt.

lsd aliens GIF

The alien creature tightens and magnifies its short psychic leash of control to throw him into a vivid emotional ecstasy, and he feels compelled to look down at his feet, and away from the window’s view.

 

The simple metallic ladder- path underfoot, transforms into carved inlaid wood one, delicately patterned and dazzlingly ornate, an inlaid ebony and maple wood design, cryptic and deeply beautiful in motif and complexity.
He is forced to kneel to examine it, his eyes now fully away from the stars, Earth and moon, seen outside the enormous, curved window .
Powerful awe, love, and wood -admiration, a godlike reverence of wood, flashes through his mind at the mirage of the intricate wood designed staircase, suspended in air.
Opulent stenciled ornament on grand staircase in a elegant Victorian-Era townhouse in Pittsburgh.
Complex, gorgeous and lushly constructed, a staircase in multicolored woods,  forces an almost religious awe, which courses through his brain,  to thrill him, a tsunami of reverent awe for the dazzling wood patterns, and for the unknown artist-architect, overwhelms and distracts him, a gifted attempt to get him to forget what he has seen outside of the craft’s window.
The sleeping line of climbing people is now fully stopped by his fawning and repeated examinations, of the simple metal staircase, as he repeatedly retraces his steps to examine it, in a rapture.
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The tour guide, just out of sight, presumes that the delusion is strong enough to have worked and he hears a resonant, deep, paternal, impatient voice, now within his head, “Just keep going; it will be there, for you to see, when you get back.”

“But, things change so quickly, in dreams”,  he thinks, “and this gorgeous wood stairway, will likely not be there, when I return.”

He lingers, enthralled.

Opulent stenciled ornament on grand staircase in a elegant Victorian-Era townhouse in Pittsburgh.
The alien ‘ guide’,  who tethers him and all the others, within a snug cocoon of illusions, had deftly made a simple, metal staircase, the un-rightful recipient of that stolen awe, of the magnificent scene viewed outside the craft’s window.
But when he awakens, he DOES remember the staircase and  his monumental awe of the spectacular space scene, outside the curved window, of the alien craft;
“Astounding creatures, uncanny, psychic, mind-bending, short- leash-controls…”

He  dully thinks, when he awakens exhausted, with a dull headache and a copious nose bleed, more tired getting up, than he had been, going to bed.
 And ‘dreams’, in a gnawing realization, could no longer ever again, be trusted  to merely be, .. ‘dreams’…
BIO:
Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for me, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL I saw aliens float me out of my body, in my bed, at night.
Then, I knew that they were more interested in an essence, that I never suspected I had:: a Soul.

http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/alienfilm/images/6/65/Alien-real.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20130620214917
*******
Postscript
Rather than a fear-based approach to Dark Force Entity safety and caution, I prescribe a required spiritual “shift”  towards the equally unseen goodness of the spirit world, and away from fear.
Unlearning fear is a step-by-step acceptance and assertion, of one’s spiritual ‘Self’, a distance far and away from fearful  defenses mustered by one’s material physical self.
One’s longitudinal approach to any self-defense must be a spiritual one, and not a physical one.
For defenses to flare, one must  recognize that one is not a person having troubled spiritual problems, but instead an eternal soul having troubling human experiences.
From the stance of self-recognition as an eternal spirit, one can then insist on “one’s own space’ as spiritual fruition.

Avoid  church-based or organized religions and put the Bible on the same shelf as “The Tooth Fairy,” for God is real, but He’s to be found down a long hall, and somewhere else.

TELEPATHIC ALIEN ABDUCTEES

 

 

TELEPATHIC ALIEN ABDUCTEES

Spending a lifetime, recalled in snippets, with highly psychic, abducting entities, has made my intuitive prowess mushroom.
Hazards exist and one can flirt with the beast of madness, when inter-dimensional bleed-throughs become too commonplace.
I went to a presumed psychic who turned out to be a fake, and who did a cold reading, with almost nothing apropos, from him.
  I ended up by reading him, telling him that a red haired woman (who turned out to be his mother) who was sitting next to him, was unhappy about what he was doing!
He confirmed, with a photo, that his mom, a bright auburn like Lucille Ball, had passed that year, and rattled, he agreed to refund my $300.
After abductions, the inter-dimensional door, left open, usually also invites in the gangster fringe element of the spirit world.

Like an allergy sufferer, psychics have a hyper sensitivity, to the unseen.

A cautionary tale, for sensitives, is that
watching  television, in itself, (like driving, or playing a musical instrument) puts one, unknowingly, into a light trance  more commonly achievable by hypnosis.

 

Such trance ‘states’ of mind unknowingly magnify the mind’s power of a sensitive, to receive and transmit and one’s mind
acts as a light-house beacon which can easily bring in dark spirits, who like sharks, coast in.

Sensitives need this trouble, like a submarine needs screen doors.

Are those who have a developing ‘Third-Eye’ cursed or blessed and
what if it stems from experiences with non-humans?
One technique that I use, is to internally tell myself that I wish to be “open”, and then I  relax, as I await an insight or mind’s eye picture, poised to receive, like a fat catcher behind home plate.
This worked well, and it oddly also helped me, at times, to deliver an English college lesson, during a long career, when I misused this gift.
A classroom teacher’s predilection to amaze students, is always an opportunity to make them pay more attention.
On a  platform -raised-stage, in a lecture hall, gesticulating World, American and English literature, to a student audience below.
I would halt the lesson, when I saw that I was boring them, by interjecting a random ‘read’ of a pupil who was markedly off day-dreaming, eyes out of the window, brain in the hall, a pupil in a deep literature coma.
As an attention getting device or a means of embarrassment,  I would from left field give him an odd  personal detail of his private family life, a detail known only to him.
It could be as simple as mentioning that he left both a trumpet and a girlie magazine behind, on his unmade bed.
His eyes would be wide open pools of attention, for the rest of the week.
But garnering a reputation, for uncanny mind feats, seemed to backfire.
Just outside an English Literature classroom, I was stopped in transit in a busy college hallway, by an unknown female college student, who grabbed my arm and blocked my path, to class, and  said:
“Read me; I want you to read me!”
Startled and affronted, I wondered how the student grapevine knew that I would do such things, and I became worried about my  job security if Administration also were  aware, like this rude student.
I shook my head, disapprovingly, and dismissively and told her,
“Forget it!”
But she physically half-pushed me against a wall, and I felt an almost affectionate female assault.
She insisted again.
“Read me; I want you to read me!”
I relaxed completely, annoyed, in resignation, and was suddenly flooded with the shoreline image of a vast body of  lake water, a shore surrounded by water, and I was adrift far from shore.
This strong image was  accompanied by a vague feeling of dread stronger than my indignation.
I quickly asked her,”Why am I seeing water?”, to which she shrugged.
I asked her again.
“I’m seeing water, what does that mean, to you?”
She shrugged, again.
“I have no idea, what it means, but you perhaps do”, I prodded.
“Why, water?”
“I don’t know” , she said, again.
“Oh,” she said, “I’m on the swimming team.”
I  quickly told her,”promise me that you’ll never swim in a lake, it’s far too dangerous to take that chance, in that you might drown,  but also promise me, now you’ll tell  absolutely no one, about this conversation.”

She smiled and nodded, and I, late for class,  somewhat dismayed, hurried elsewhere, feeling  that I had been taken advantage of.

 

 

A relaxed mental and physical state allows imposed images to float into mind,  accompanied by an open expectation, that I WILL receive.

 A real problem, exists in trying to decipher precisely just what that image, or series of images, might  mean.
It is a psychic muscle that all of us have, a muscle largely unflexed and flabby, culturally under developed.
 Revealingly, for the many alien abductees who report such similar intuition experiences, the double edged sword of the abduction experience, cuts both ways .
Instead of elevated and angelic presences, in these spiritual experiences, predominantly untoward and impish intelligences, prevail.
Not yet able to ground myself, I often find at dusk and nighttime that I’m inundated by unseen gate-crashers, my energies jumped upon by negative- thought- beings of many ilks, and worse, juvenile reptilians, who like unerring persistent yellow-jacket-wasps, at a can of cola on a picnic table, worried and buzzed me with pinching and painful connections sought.
After a stunningly unpleasant  inter-dimensional  alien reptilian ‘encounter’, I was  aware of their unseen inter dimensional existence and diabolical brilliance.
  Afterwards, I was loathe to ‘ask’ within, again, psychically, wary and unwilling  to ‘receive’ ANY internal daydream-like images.
Reptilians’ persistent searing psychic attacks were THAT insidious.
These winged and mean-spirited creatures have uncanny psychic prowess.
Small dark greys as well,  quite sinister, are equipped with powerful mind-control abilities.
The more I experience “seeing” shape-shifting, involving small grey aliens, during rare moments of clarity within abductions, the more I am convinced that it’s not  shape-shifting, but instead telepathic control of our minds.
These beings telepathy is so strong  that they can  force us to perceive/ see what they choose, powerfully projected into our mind’s-eye.
I have grappled with why one would suffer such psychic-telepathic attacks, through broadcast negative thoughts, when awake, and in nightmares, when sleep, and I think in my case, forced beyond any willingness to write, that God sends  people into the darkest corners, to illuminate them, for others..
The spiritual/paranormal aspect in alien-human interactions, prevails:
UFO observations, though non-religious by nature, DO encompass a similarity to the “spiritual” or semi-religious  paranormal dimension, in many tangential ways.
Part of the phenomenon  involves astral abductions; one’s body is left behind in a car, or in bed, and one’s spiritual essences are extracted, ‘vibrated’ out of one’s body..
One reports seeing one’s body receding below, as one is ascending into, an overhead craft..
One’s astral essences do maintain all of one’s personality traits and idiosyncratic fine judgmental qualities.
This astral theft, temporarily, of our spiritual essence, is mirrored and echoed again after abductees’ physical death when their spirits are garnered to be recycled, bypassing Heaven , angels and spirit helpers, an abduction again, of diabolical proportions.
And there ARE strong similarities, also, between the predatory spiritual treatment of abductees by aliens, and the too easily dismissed ancient notions of demonic possession, because demons and aliens both, are predators, of our spirits and of  consciousness, itself.
For years, at meetings at Bud Hopkins house in New York City, we abductees, over the years, gleaned that ‘ we are a harvest’, a  condiment in the Universe, an echo of Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone episode, “To Serve Man”, because abductees know that UFOs reveal a reptilian god, who fancies diets of human flesh.
This truth, that humankind has always been a spiritual, as well as a tangible harvest, is down a long hall and somewhere else, from pedestrian UFO researchers.
“Earth”, as we call it, is a reptilian preserve and these gamekeepers, never let the creatures within suspect that it is, indeed, a preserve.
The lower animal forms seen on Earth, as reptiles, amphibeans, insects, felines, are echoed and mirrored by the higher technological alien types seen aboard craft by abductees, aliens who lent their DNA to this preserve eons ago, and engineered
 our moon’s careful placement.

 Earth is a ‘created’ shining jewel of life , comparatively, amongst  untold countless dead worlds.

“Hard facts and empirical scientific evidence”, assist in collecting evidences in superficial craft sightings,  but such an approach fails to reveal humankind’s continued interactions with non-human intelligence behind the steering wheels of UFOs, our world history, and behind our spiritual curtains.

UFO researchers in this field who seek only facts are stodgy and backwards, ill equipped to understand an environment of an elusive alien hall of mirrors, with a quicksand floor..
“Proofs”, must sit in the corner, like a well trained German Alsatian canine, for required “proof”, disdains and impugns abductees, who struggle to put their ineffable and genuine alien experiences of high strangeness, into words.
Seeking only proofs, counter-intuitively inhibits, rather than illuminates this elusive subject.
The public is blind to this alien agenda and thus
 abject ridicule is what alien abductees face .
We, too, are contrived products of their creative animal  ‘husbandry’,
simians who knot ties and who ride public conveyances.
But, we are also simians who will, by our nature, not believe in anything that we have not directly experienced, ourselves.
 A stench of ignorance, towards UFOs and their alien pilots’ tactics and purposes,  prevails.
Churchill said that “mankind, was innately and “essentially, ineducable”..
 Psychic and telepathic powers of abductees, are an odd human precipitate, in an alien solution, one which resists “hard facts and evidences”.
(mind control dreamlike delusions imposed during abductions)
As a budding psychic, uncanny, and bizarre  ‘visuals’ often occur:
At a recent dinner, when a friend mentioned her beloved, long deceased brother, a man’s face slowly emerged from the right side of HER face!
It was like double-vision; they were identical, but he was a young man.
I was shocked, that he had not moved on, but had chosen instead, to jump aboard her energies and
I stared at her, fish-eyed.
I simply said,”You and he had one face, the exact, same face.”
She said, “yes; they  looked like identical twins.”
My wife put down her fork and said,
“There he goes, again, saying  things he could not possibly know,  and where does he GET those things from ?!”
I did not explain, what I had seen, horrified that he was, in truth, fully aboard her energies, rather than having ‘crossed over’.
Many abductees, experience  mind ‘receptivity’, to  inter- dimensional ‘bleed-throughs’.
I can tell when work-horse- synthetic -beings, small greys are close by, but unseen;  an intense feeling of the  ‘elevator experience’, of eyes, on the back of my neck’, combined with a creepy feeling.
They generate a strong  psychic ‘creepy’ feeling.
Who actually micromanages us, and our intuitions, behind our psychic curtains?
After encountering stunningly horrid reptilians, I have my own suspicions.
Dark ones, like gargoyles perched on one’s roof, can see down the ‘road’, far enough to supply near- future happenings, but they are NOT the elevated angelic souls, the ascended ones of LIGHT, that you’d hoped they’d be .
Inter- dimensional  demons and reptilians cruise in like sharks, to cause extreme  psychic distress, panic attacks, nightmares, and poltergeist manifestations, the beast of madness, itself.
Imagine the horror experienced by people suffering panic attacks only to be medicated by physicians who could not remotely have a clue.
The soul’s natural reaction to strong intrusion, psychically, is one of free-floating anxiety.
 I write often, about my psychic ‘rabbit-hole’,
having gone so far down that hole, that I fear I don’t have enough breadcrumbs, to find my way, back home.
 Alien abductions, notwithstanding, acquired psychic prowess is nonetheless  a spiritual gift, a muscle to be  exercised and flexed, until Heaven, ready to use us for some higher good, steps in to make sense of it all, for us.

Psychic hypersensitivity can best defend against such alien predators of consciousness, by visualizing an electric purple light aura around one in every direction; this hue is most effective, as

simple metaphysics, fighting fire with fire.

The more time spent visualizing this protective light, the more effective it becomes.

 

“Seeing” electric-violet ‘around one’ also successfully repels stronger types of demons who cannot endure such purple visualized high frequencies, for long.
With practice, this visualized technique wins out in any short-lived pitched battle against UFO beings diabolically brilliant, insistent and predatory.
Abductees know fully well, that Earth is under invasion, one person at a time, and that we are all alone, together…..

We must  keep to the narrow path of a higher moral higher ground to instruct them of their wrongdoings.

 

One must endeavor in goodness and moral ingenuity, to prevail against them, having first won God’s assistance and Heaven’s intervention.

After all, we are much closer to God, than they are.

 

Postscript:
Rather than a fear-based approach to Dark Force Entity safety and caution, I proscribe a required spiritual “shift” , one towards the equally unseen goodness of the spirit world, and away from fear.
Unlearning fear is a step by step acceptance and assertion, of one’s spiritual ‘self’, a distance far and away from fearful  defenses mustered by one’s material physical self.
One’s longitudinal approach to any self-defense must be a spiritual one, and not a physical one.
  For defenses to flare, one must  recognize that one is not a person having troubled alien/demonic spiritual problems, but instead an eternal spiritual soul having troubling human experiences.

From the stance of self-recognition as an eternal spirit, one can then insist on “one’s own space’.
as spiritual fruition.

Avoid  church-based or organized religions  and put the Bible on the same shelf, as the Tooth Fairy for

God, is real, but He has always been down a long hall, and somewhere else…

child imitating brain-washing pulpit body-language

O.B.E.s and ALIEN ASTRAL ABDUCTIONS

OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCES and ASTRAL ALIEN ABDUCTIONS

by Paul Schroeder
At night, your astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic, spirit worlds of myriad vibration levels and the pictures that you see on the backs of your eyelids, while you R.E.M., are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality.
Like goldfish who never suspect a greater world beyond the pond’s surface, the limited awareness of humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality, groping, mouths agape in fish ignorance.
whale GIF
After I observed an amazing flotilla of assembling UFOs overhead, it appeared beyond logic, that alien entities climbed down the ladder of my awe to cause paranormal experiences.
Inter dimensional ‘bleed-through” happened regularly.
My energies, which I cannot  manage to  ‘ground’,  post- UFO craft sighting, became light-beacons for  negative-thought-entities, from aliens to ghosts tipping my emotional scales  towards,
“Who needs this horrid paranormal inglorious chafing?!”
Alien abductions open an inter-dimensional door, which left open,  invites in the gangster fringe element of the spirit world.
Sleep is never again, merely sleep, after that.
After craft sightings, knocks on walls, pings on overhead lamps, heavy planted flower pots moving, sounds of animals running across the floor, rather than abject terror, I  shut all the lights to wander my rooms, in pitch blackness, with awe, to reach out mentally to these offenders.
Creepy, astonishing and most revealing , before silence descends, I have unlearned fear and horror.
 https://i1.wp.com/78.media.tumblr.com/ee6d652dc8294ce4c0a2af505e17bce9/tumblr_o85v4ujJMX1vr3octo1_400.gif
I now self perceive E.T. and spirit hypersensitivity, a form of a spiritual inter-dimensional allergy reaction, a
hypersensitivity,  to those beings, painfully troubled, and inflamed, while most others, in all their varied pursuits in walks of life, remain dully unaware.
Image result for tumblr gifs of floating ghosts
I would hear light patter of footsteps in the attic,  while I am in bed, and soon after I would feel strong electrical vibrations throughout my body to then see my body float out of my body,  in an astral abduction of my spiritual essence.
experience GIF
For alien abduction purposes, this astral self retains all of one’s predilections and discrimination, leaving one’s chop-meat-DNA- contrived- body,  now bereft of spirit, behind in bed.
At first glance, seeing myself lifted away from my body, I had believed that I had died…
experience GIF
Out of body, I experienced conveyor- belt-like transit travels, not unlike the way ghosts move,  terrifying experiences often directly tied to my previously  monitored thoughts.
During my OBEs, I cannot move my arms or legs to move but I can think “I want to go…” and I float there on an invisible conveyor belt, in violation of the “laws of physics” a floating motion, which is God, for all intents and purposes..
The following is  one OBE  that illustrates how alien-abductee-proprietary- monitored-consciousness, is suffered,  and that astral abduction theft occurs, at their  hands:
I awakened slowly, to find myself  floating and breathing, yet underwater,  an experience  real in sensory totality,  compared to full consciousness.
whale GIF
More than  a vivid dream, it revealed an alien  fingerprint silhouette,  an imposed nighttime OBE, an astral abduction by
alien entities  predatory of our spiritual essences, essences  we as a race of beings, are only  dimly and barely aware of.
One’s car is stopped on a lonely road by a UFO blocking the road or hovering just above it, and one ascends into an overhead waiting craft as one watches one’s body in the car below, recede from view.
Alien abductees rarely assess such astral theft contradictions of self, in their daily functioning concepts nor in their reporting of the experience of their alien  abduction.
The spirit ‘self’ , teased away from our body,  preyed upon, retains fullest personality and memory;   some astral injury is suffered ,when body and spirit are at first separated and then later reunited by  technological alien contrivance.
And worse, at an  abductee’s physical death, a permanent abduction to end all abductions, the alien garnering  of one’s soul essence to recycle, bypassing Heaven, a  clear spiritual crime against humanity.
.
 For
when  we sleep, we wander among beasties and monsters,  with all defenses seemingly down.
 Aliens, ever thirsty for our endocrines, extracted while we sleep, were likely mistaken as the classic vampires, body drinkers of  the 3rd and 4th centuries
Image result for tumblr gifs of alien vampires
Impressively, raw garlic works  well as an herbal repellent against abductions, and critters, raw garlic rubbed all over feet and chakra body areas is as  effective  as it was reputed to be, against ancient vampires.
(It also works well to repulse any bed partner  to also  seek refuge elsewhere) ..
In one singularly vivid astral abduction experience, a “dream”, I found myself aloft and submerged under twenty or thirty feet of water,
barely semi-conscious, dully aware.
whale GIF
I  dozed, floated and breathed normally, immersed, under a shoal, deep under a narrow inlet.
As I floated  deep beneath  green surf waves,  I became slowly and dimly aware, visually, of ten or fifteen gray ghosts,  swimming, hovering, in the near distance,
torpedo shapes gently swimming,   watching me, hanging suspended in deeper waters,  to  begin to swim closer than ten  feet
away from me.
Porpoises, with classic grinning visages,  with ten feet long muscular grey bodies, approached warily,  curious, a school of thirty, gray forms hovered nearby, a distance away in the inlet’s shoal, under which I dozed and floated.
 I began to struggle to  come to my  dull senses as the large torpedo shaped creatures swam closer;  they radiated  intelligence and a palpable curiosity.
 A large school of inquisitive silver-gray porpoises,  close now, some within five feet, swam in gently, for a  closer look at me,   half awake and floating .
The very instant that my mind  attempted to assert a greater awareness to seize upon my predicament, the  moment  I grappled towards a fuller consciousness,  they  started away, startled,  two thrusts of their bodies, into the recesses of the shoal, as though privy to and threatened by my mind or thoughts.
I at once became forever assured of porpoise telepathy .
With quick tail movements, they vanished into the water’s distant murky gloom.
The experience was as ‘real’ in every sensory realm,  compared to consciousness.
Slammed with a jolt, back into my body,  suddenly awakened, in bed,  oddly and quickly I  recalled a favored thought-sentence, one I had  often repeated in my paranormal writings:
 “In the spiritual ocean tidal currents in R.E.M.s, between two and six o’clock, I have stumbled across only deep water negative thought entities, nighttime bedroom intruders;  I have met  only sharks, and not ever, the elevated, enlightened porpoises..”
At once , the vivid, strange OBE experience underlined  the nature of an alien astral abduction, but as well, a proprietary  and meddling psychic
omnipresence, to have read my thoughts, a disorder of consciousness depredation, a signature symptom of alien presences, for abductees.
Image result for tumblr gifs of alien vampires
This nighttime vivid OBE, Out-Of-Body-Experience,  pointed to the silhouette of a proprietary alien, a
creature, with either  a too literal sense of my overused, too self-important sentence’s meaning,
or perversely and stiltedly,
one with a rarefied sense of humor.
I leave it in your hands, to weigh..

GRANDMA’S RUSSIAN ADVICE

Grandma’s Advice

by Paul Schroeder

Just before my grandmother on my mother’s side died at the age of 95, I whispered a kiss in her ear and thanked her for her wisdom.

One odd piece of advice, that she had taught me when I was a child, I had carried close to my inner ear, all of my life.

It had been an Independence Day warning, borne of a distant Russian wisdom, one that she had whispered to me four decades ago, when I was nine or ten years old, impressionable and the apple of her eye.

The imprecation that I got from her, the warning whispered in my small rapt ear when I was nine or ten years old had been an odd warning that ruled and guided my life, and through angst, had come to define a larger part of what I called my soul.

Her ‘Russian optimism’ for the world, was childhood overwhelming for me.
For her, life was always a cup of optimism, but half full ….. with something, that could  kill you.

Now, she at ninety-five was far from that woman who in giving advice could be ironic and poetical.

She had used lipstick as a rouge to color her cheeks and then decided that her whole face was of a pallor that also needed color, rubbed lipstick all over her face.

She was quite a shock when I got onto the seventh floor of the retirement home and turned the corner and saw her sitting in a wheelchair, as though apparently waiting for me.

She still had her sense of humor.

She earnestly asked with a childlike innocence if I could bring her some new makeup and some big diamond jewelry for her to wear to dress herself up, when I visited her next?

Cautiously, I had asked her, skeptically dubious ;”What type of diamond jewelry?” She had said;

“Expensive, fancy jewelry.”

She labored under the delusion that she was in a hotel in Miami, one that slouched in basic standards;

“The meals at this hotel are terrible, but what is a person to do?”

She did not ever surmise herself to be in a nursing home near the beach in Coney Island, Brooklyn.

A person’s senior mind can lend a type of psychic anesthesia that acts in many ways to protect it from uncompromising and painful truths. .

Now I was an odd adult.

I wanted her to know that I loved her, how her whisper had returned years later as my gratitude.

I had loved to cherish ideas; a rare few philosophers had touched my early soul .

Dr. Seuss had barely competed with grandma.

But, he  wrote : “Be who you are and say what you think, because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”

But grandma didn’t recall her similar advice or the small pleasures and agonies of our past.

My other odd philosopher was sitting here in her wheelchair, armed and propped with a pillow/ alarm that would audibly alert nurses in the retirement home if she pitched forward and left her chair’s upright fixed position.

She was different the next time I saw her, the way she used to be ;

” Hello, Paul; sharp as a matzoh and twice as crummy!”

“How come you don’t call your grandma more often? Humph!!”

“Humph;You going to wait until I’m in the cemetery and THEN you’ll visit me?”

“I’m sorry, that you’ll be sorry, but THEN it’ll be too late!”

This was the same verbatim greeting that I had gotten from her over the years over the telephone .  I presumed that I was calloused to it all.

It always deeply riddled me with guilt but I never let her know, but instead I saw it rather as a good sign that she was still feeling feisty.

When she successfully aimed ring-toss-Velcro-guilt in my direction, I rationalized, she must be feeling much better.

I quickly tried to change the subject; ” Grandma I remember that boardwalk we can see here in Brighton Beach from a time when you were fifty years old and I was about nine years old; I still remember the good advice that you gave me back then.”

“What advice did I give you?”

I told her.

It had stayed with me for many years as a token of her wisdom.

“You brought me to you on a bench on that boardwalk, in Coney Island, on a hot 4th of July afternoon, when the whole family was there suddenly hugging and kissing each other,

happy for once, to be all together and happy seeing the fireworks, and then you whispered it in my ear:

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams,” You told me.

“What?”, she said, so I told her again;

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams.”

“OH!”, she said,”I am VERY sorry, if I ever told you that!.”

“I AM very sorry.”

I reminded her, however, what an impact she’d had on me then.

“That whisper, as a recommended life philosophy, was both poetry and  true and that, your advice, really stayed deeply with me.”

Taken to heart, it had allowed me to remain aloof and separate from everyone, as a type of self protection,  to preserve my OWN dream.”She looked at me as though I were some stranger in a dream.

I said it, again;

“Don’t get too close to people, you’ll catch their dreams.”

She was thoughtful and then looked worried.

She looked into my eyes.

“I never told you that.” …

“You shouldn’t get too close, because…”

“Germs”, she said.

” I said that you’ll catch their GERMS.”

“I told you and your sister MANY times;

“Don’t get too close to people, ’cause you’ll catch their GERMS.” she said, again.


“And YOU’RE supposed to be the smart one?!””Oh,” she groaned in pain.” Take me over to the dining room; it’s still too early for the lunch, but I want to get there anyway, early.”

That wrong belief had overshadowed every relationship in my life with an ambivalence and a craving to just be left alone.

If one was alone, one was safe from what people could do to you, I had always reasoned.

Two marriages and a dozen influenza later, I had realized her truth, too late.

SEX IN PUBLIC, OR SHALL WE DANCE?


Sex in Public Places is Fabulous or Shall We Dance, Instead?

by

Paul Schroeder

Sex in Public Places is Fabulous or Shall We Dance, Instead?
“Sex isn’t the answer; sex, is the question; the answer is, “YES!” (Woody Allen)
Mark Twain once said, “No sane person dances”.

Must one be crazy to dance,

publicly ?

I thought long and hard about that statement, approached it from different angles of thought and pondered it.

Orthodox Hasidic Jews, believe that wild dance, ensemble, is a way to approach sublime Divine attainment, most tribal and ancient.

Is it the case that

those who were deaf, could not hear the music and thus thought the dancers insane?
What makes a person gyrate sexually in front of strangers? I finally accept that dancing is publicly symbolic sex, with the exception of Lambada, which IS sex, most graphic in public.

Lap dances and belly dances enthrall men as consummate sex fantasies unfurled, and these reside deep within our psyches.

Men who routinely go to “topless” bars to watch naked women dance, harbor a wild and degrading fantasy, an addictive stimulant, that seems just as unwholesome as public sexual gyrations to music.

But sex, in public?!


Sometimes, watching people dance, at weddings and parties, in, you’ll forgive the expression, “ballrooms”, I can see the symbolic give and take sex act in dance.Waltzes and Tangos are elegantly choreographed and highly polished sexual moves in partner synchronicity and poised ‘give and take’.I do also think that alcohol loosens inhibitions on the dancefloor as well as in dating.

Why do you think that men are so very willing to buy ladies drinks?!

“On-stage dance takes from sexuality practices “off-stage” and imaginatively stylizes them and possibly reinforces or challenges these practices that include expressions of sexual identity and attraction, flirtatiousness, friendliness, exhibitionism, eroticism, and love-making.”

(Hanna, Journal of Sex Research / March-June, 2010 )

Would one who is a Buddhist and contemplative, dance or would he resist the impulse as unabashed sexy exhibitionism?

After all, what is,”sanity”, if “no sane man dances”?

Drinking alcohol during a “cocktail hour”, before public dancing at such affairs may assist the temporary insanity inherent to very public sexual gyrations called dance.

Sexual unabashed exhibitionism?

I can often resist the impulse to publicly gyrate, or to circle dance or line dance amidst a large group of people by recalling Twain’s sentence.

But, if dance is truly symbolic sex, the horizontal mambo, then group dancing brings to mind another quote:

“Sex between two people can be a wonderful thing, among ten people, it’s just fabulous!”

To me, having unabashed multiple polygamous sexual partners is demonstrated by line dancing.

Dancing in public, however symbolically obscene in its blatant sexual gyrations, is not likely to expose one to HIV or STDs.

For one like me who will not dance, I wonder about the biological absurdity of dance and of sex.

There has to be a more dignified way of expressing your deep love and affection for another human being;

the human body is a odd marvel in that it has its waste disposal plant immediately next to its amusement park.

I and Twain, shall instead, sit this one out.