Fire Walk With Me: Part VIII

Fire Walk With Me: Part VIII

 

Speculation...point of view...personal feelings and opinion. This is all we have to go off of when interpreting our dreams. We truly do not know what they mean or how they are created. But when is enough, enough? When is too far, too far? How do you know when you have crossed the line into a place and time that is not your own?

In dreams, we lose control, but it is a reality we have come to live with. It is hard to swallow that in the sleeping hours, our bodies and our minds are so open and vulnerable. At any moment, we could be swept away into another place and time or worse, we could be physically hurt. Ancient folklore and fairy tales have haunted us for centuries and for some, the nightmares have become reality.

In our dreams, we are all but gypsies, thieving through the night, looking to steal a moment of fantasy and release our most precious desires.

Come into me and become one with all that is and all this is not; see the world
through the eyes of others. As a theriomorph, you will know battle and you will
know peace. As a shimmer, you will know the deepest workings of the hearts and
minds of others. You will enter and leave as I command you. You will not be
alone. The person or persons you become one with, will remember you only as
the shape or form you take in their perception; not as you are now. Do you
accept?

I do.

Take a plain, pure ivory bar and carve into each side, the four elements of power; earth, air, water and fire. On the topside of the bar, carve a clear pentagram in the center.

Take a wooden chair and place it in the center of a room.

Place the bar under the chair with the pentagram facing up.

Take a pale of water and place it in front of the wooden chair.

Now sit in the chair and place your feet in the water.

Sew the Rede into your heart as it is the road map back. You will have complete control over your host, but not the environment. By my will, you shall not be harmed.

Recite the following and prepare to journey the Underworld.

So Who Are You Really?

As always, my darkest passion still cries for the hearts of humans. I am still choked by the nightmares of saving them from themselves. It was not the free will that destroyed them; it was sin. You are a great and wonderful being. But you still have so much to learn. In the larger scheme of things, you are a baby, a mere 55,000 years old. Our kind is over 7 billion years old. If only you knew the world before the fall of man. You were created with great abilities. For this - I am sorrowful. And you have paid dearly with your lives. You were born 1.6. This is your story. You will call me Nethaleo. Let us start the journey here.

 
NICE -- In August 1608, the inhabitants of the South France, from Marseilles to Genoa, witnessed a true UFO flap, reported in a chronicle entitled "Discours des terribles et espouvantables signes apparussur la mer de Gennes." In Nice, the inhabitants saw three strange luminous vessels which evolve at high speed above the city. The three machines stop near the fortress and descend to just above the water where they cause the water to boil and emit a red-orange vapor. Numerous witnesses saw two humanoid beings with large heads and large luminous eyes, dressed in a red suit with silver scales, connected to the flying machine by tubes, and engage themselves in several hours of strange work.

It was 300 years since the year of the Fallen against the Seekers. It was not until we shared our knowledge of hyper strand DNA replication, that Man and the Fallen truly found a common ground to build their civilization upon. Man was convinced that they were one with their creators. There was peace, order and political structure. Technological, scientific and medical advances were being made and for a while, it was good. 

The majesty of the World Union kept all recorded materials of such nature under extreme, excruciating security. The labs were 5 miles below sea level in seven different areas of the earth. 

The original blueprint of your species, humankind, was preserved in the eastern regional lab, Mantra. It was located about 50 miles out from the desert of the Mesopotamian border. It was here that biophysics, chemical engineering, and biological engineering was created.

During Babel, the Keeper of Records attempted to resurface the five mile deep cells below sea level. Immediately upon entry into the surface, they were killed by fiery spears, straight through the heart. All the records were disintegrated into dust and spread into the air as ash. The knowledge of your creation was gone. 

The survived managed to stay clear of the Fallen and find refuge in the ruins of cities that were no more. Carefully, miles and miles of area as far as the eye could see, were examined to assure that no other record was left behind. The search for any stray materials, continued for several hundred years. After the Fallen were satisfied that there was no other record left, they exited the habitat and left the survived to rebuild their world to the best of their own ability. This time, there would be no help from the Keepers. There would be no assistance from the laboratories and worst of all, there was no protection from harm.

Unbeknownst to the Fallen, the Keepers of Records planned ahead for just such an event to occur. In an effort to preserve the prototypes, three small pods were hidden in the walls deep beneath the surface and several miles away from any of the labs. The pods were eventually found near the Tigris-Euphrates, buried into the mountain rock. It was not until another shift in the plane that the pods would forced free and broken from the rock.

The surfaced of the pods were badly damaged and some pieces were broken, making it extremely difficult to make out the inscriptions on their surface. They were taken into hiding and studied over endlessly for hours at a time. The inscriptions were in Sumerian cuneiform. They said, "Origin of Being"; "Origin of Matter" and "Origin of Time". Philosophers, scientists, engineers, world leaders,

and historians of that time suffered great loss in days, months, and years pondering over the pods. The data collected was not in writing, it was in sound.

Things found in the modern world are not of your origin. Your being only replicates our creations. There was air flight, electricity, telecommunications, and several other technologies, long before 985BCE, when the pods were found. The only conclusion universally excepted at the time was since the labels of the pods were in their native language, that could only mean they were not the first to find them. This was true.

In 1300BCE, the pods were placed in the Apsu Chamber beneath the Temple of the Shaman. They did not know at the time that the key element to life and everything before it and after it -- was sound. They only knew the pods were sacred and the secrets of the pods were to remain hidden from the world.

It was certain that the pods were from the days of the ancient. The Keepers did not believe they were here by coincidence. They believed their creation was on purpose; their location of finding was on purpose; and their making could very well be the key to knowing the origin of their own kind. They were considered divine and worshiped like the sun, moon, and stars.

 

It was not until 300BCE; the pods were destroyed by the Shaman who claimed that when he uttered the sounds, the pods would vibrate and flourish with images, right before his eyes. When he chanted a different sound, the images would change. The Shaman claimed that in the images, the world suffered many natural disasters, wars and famine. He saw global political systems collapsing in mass destruction from rain and fires and unearthly upheaval. The Shaman was so overcome with fear that he began to go mad.  Late one evening near the riverside, in an extremely altered mind state, the Shaman built a great bond fire and burned the pods to ash. The ashes  were poured into the river and the only extraterrestrial record of your history was permanently destroyed.

Systems utilized in the modern world are not new. You simply replicate what was done before. Long before flight, there was travel between planets. Long before there was communication systems, there was sound. Sound was the result of energy. Energy was the result of thought. Thought omitted enough energy to generate a frequency. The frequency generated a sound that was able to be transmitted and received. There was no formal shape of words as you  know it today.

Do you remember the ancient text stating that "in the beginning there was the word-the word was god and the word was with god?" You see, your creator whom you call God, is a direct result of energetic thought. Hence the saying, 'speak it into reality.' This is what that means. First comes energy, then thought, then sound, then the word. Think of your speech by mouth as a frequency. You use your energy to think of the words and then you speak them and naturally act upon them or respond to them. It is that simple.

The Fallen that walked the earth, mated with the daughters of men and hybrid humans were born. These beings were of great strength, vigor, and genetic perplexity. The hybrids are very much like their makers. They can be barbaric, ill tempered, pompous, and naturally destructive. They see themselves as superior to others; just as the ones that created them. They use their abilities to conquer, destroy, and enslave others. Their actions and the actions of their offspring, for generations to come, continue to carve excruciating wounds into the flesh of human history. This will continue until the great cleansing is complete.

And so it was decided that your origin would be kept from you and only a privileged few would possess such knowledge. The original human mind was not designed to directly communicate with inter-dimensional beings. The frequency would create an electrical current in the brain that would result in small sparks that eventually flame up and burn. 

While the design of the natural human eye is indeed incredible and complex, it cannot bend the light of pure energy into cognitive waves of communication. The result would be instant blindness caused by a complete fry of the optic nerve and melt down of the retina. You cannot look into the eye of the Divine with the natural human eye. You will be blinded in an instant. You cannot physically speak the name of the Creator, because the name is not a word-it is a frequency.

Hence, The Creation has no formal name, assigned physical gender or specific and particular description. All testimonies of such a likeness are of artistic nature only for the sake of some form of logical comprehension. Contrary to all popular beliefs religious, scientific, and otherwise, The Source of all that is and all that is not, has no written or spoken name. The Source is not monotheistic or polytheistic.

I WILL SEE YOU IF YOU LOOK INTO ME WITH YOUR THIRD EYE

It a well lit room, look directly into the center of this image without blinking, for 30 seconds.

Then, close your eyes. Take slow, deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

Do this until you feel yourself in a state of still and peaceful calm.

Breathe normally and visualize what you wish to communicate and I will respond to you.

When you are finished, open your eyes.

Tell a Fable Around the Fire

For centuries, we have taken true accounts like these and attempted to share them through stories, fables, and folklore. And no matter how many different ways it is told, the message is still the same. The story of Nethaleo, as told by the fortune tellers, soothsayers and witch doctors, normally sounds a little bit like this:

Natahleo: The Fallen One

Long ago, before you and I, there were giants that walked the earth. They grew eight to fifteen feet in height at their greatest peak and were not of this world. They came here from another place and time and made our daughters into wives and concubines in order to reproduce their species. They were all destroyed in great natural disasters. But one survived. One lived to tell the story of his people to the ancient tribes and the tribal leaders promised him that after his passing they would keep his story alive. Legend says that Natahleo kept a journal and every page of the journal was destroyed except for the last page. It said:

"As always my darkest passions still cry for the hearts of
man. I am still choked by the dreams of saving them from
themselves. It was not sin that destroyed this great and
wonderful being. It was free will. Giving them the ability to make
their own decisions only allowed them to make the wrong
decisions. For this-we are sorrowful. And we have paid
dearly with our lives." (Nathalio 1600AD) 

Let a documentary tell this same story and it would go a little like this: 

Tonight, on the History Channel. We explore what some believe is the greatest evidence of spiritual and extraterrestrial life... (cue exciting theme music behind provoking narrator's voice) ...since the discovery of Noah's Ark. We will take the journey with a team of experts and researchers as we uncover the mystery of what might be the actual written work of a fallen angel. The being that has come to be known as: Nethaleo. (cue dramatic cut to researcher in a space lab in France). The story of this fallen angel or alien being starts with the battle in France in 1608...

(Researcher)
And then there is someone like me, who will gather the necessary tools and resources to do a little digging and documenting of his own. My goal is to prove or disprove that such a being as Nethaleo even exists. 

Therefore, I have dedicated this blog spot to finding the most accurate and supportive data. After exhaustive research, I must say that I am convinced there is something or someone behind the words found in these writings. 

Two people, who have never met, have the exact same story written in their diaries and journals...both describe the exact same events...both claim that the writings were inspired by some divine spirit or some other outside influence...seemed at the time, to be very convincing.

I had to stop and take into account however, there is always the Internet, telephone and good old fashioned mailbox. They could have met online in a chat room, social network site or even met in person and claimed they didn't know each other. They could have kept in constant contact with each other since the very beginning and created this entire outlandish story to be one large elaborate hoax. But then something great happened. The information we came up with together, started to fit perfectly. All of the writings are directly in line with current events. The real life events are happening faster than I can post the writings to this blog site. The writings seem to have a life of their own. Concluding that indeed, this entity, Nethaleo, is real and the inspirations are true. 

The Fire Walk Continues.

The following is a from a woman who claims she had similar experiences with spiritual encounters. While there were many, she will never forget the first one she had as a little girl. It went like this.

  

"I remember I was probably no more than 11 years old at the time and of course you know how it goes, you're a kid, no one believed me, but I was like, freaking out because I believed what I had was a real life ghost or spirit visit me in my room. I didn't watch scary movies and stuff like that as a kid, because my mom was dead set against it and my dad, well, he didn't care, but nothing got past her you know, so, gosh, I remember it must have been around 8 or 9 o'clock or something...a school night...I went to bed like normal and drifted off to sleep."

"Well it must have been around 3:00am when all of a sudden I heard a loud banging noise and it woke me up instantly, like what was that! You know and I was like, oh my god...something to happened to my mom and dad right, so I jump up and go running for the bedroom door and the floor was all wet and sticky and cold. At first I didn't think anything of it, I was trying to find out where that loud banging was coming from and ran for the door! I stepped on a stuffed doll my grandmother had given me when I was a probably no more than 2 or 3 years old, kept it ever since...it squeals and I'm charging for the door when right out from underneath me comes a bellowing black smoke and it immediately sucks me in."

"I was freaking out by this time, 'cause I'm like what the hell is going on right, so I call out into the pitch black darkness, I'm like, hello? Hello? And I put this on my grandmother, a voice called back to me and said, are you still there? And I'm 11 years old I immediately starting screaming at the top of my lungs, mom! Mom! Daddy! There's someone in my room! Help! And I'm yelling and carrying on and then like before I could get out another word, the entire darkness around me, lit up! And I was in a hallway with a little girl who looked a lot like me and..." (She starts to cry)

"God, I'm sorry. I..looked at the girl looking back at me and she says, in a very sad voice, where am I? Who is there? I couldn't answer her. I was like frozen and didn't say a word, I just stood there and all at once, she started to move toward me...she didn't have any legs or feet and...she was crying. I was crying by this time of course and the ghostly girl stops and just stares at me and I don't know what or where I got this from, but out of nowhere I burst out with, 'are you the shadow of sadness?' And she tilted her head kind of right to the side like and replied, 'are you the keeper of peace? why did you not answer me?'"

"And then silence. Empty footsteps falling quickly against the pavement, builds a faster pace with each breath. I'm getting angry because I'm scared and I yell out, if you have something to say to me, say it now! I'm not afraid of you! There was a man's voice in the distance. Looking back after all these years, it was probably my dad's voice I heard, I was dreaming and all of this was just playing out in my head and all, but at the time, it seemed undeniably real. And so, he shouted, the voices around him grew dimmer in the background and the shadow approached. He was walking in his sleep. It was not the normal time of day. It was another time in another place with other people I didn't know and I could feel him breathing on my neck."

"Then all of a sudden, everything cleared. The girl, the darkness, the creepy shadow man, all of it. I'm back in my room, back in my bed and I'm laying down. At the foot of my bed, a mirror appears. I see a silhouette in the mirror and it's faint at first, but slowly gets larger and clearer with every breath. I'm not afraid because I can see myself. I can see my family. I can see my friends. I can see my past."

"I remember the night ending with my mom coming in the room to check on me. She must have heard me making a commotion or moving about. And I'm sitting straight up in my bed, eyes wide open, with a big ol' smile on my face and tear streaks down my cheeks. She runs over and sits next to me on the bed and to this day, she swears I didn't say one word to her. She comforted me, sat with me and put my back to bed and told me I was just having a nightmare. She said that she laid there with me until I fell asleep."

"But I distinctly recall sitting up, looking at the mirror at the edge of my bed that she couldn't see saying, cool! Look at this mom, this is great! It's me at like 5 years old...I told her to this day I swear she answered me saying, 'very nice dear, let's...' and I jumped in and said, no wait! And I pointed at into the air with my arm straight out in front of me and said, Mom look! You see? There is where I am going to end up."

"Oddly enough, the last thing I remember about that night was after laying back down and closing my eyes, I heard my mother whisper softly in my ear, there now...don't cry...even death is temporary."

-Sharon Glass

Aspen, Colorado

(Researcher)

Sharon's story, like many others, are often passed off as the overactive imagination of a child or just bad dreams. It is rare when, even in a clinical setting, such events are taken literally. 

Death Goes On

"So I'm looking at the hourglass of stupidity and wondering why the last sand grain has not fallen. After all I have pretty much clocked out every ounce of it up to this moment. I am stupid; stupid and blind actually. I actually believe the crap that is coming out of my mouth. It is as if my imagination has diarrhea. What is going on? How can one be so smart yet so stupid? I ran from everything that was good for me."

"I loathed others success and I played the typical fool when it came to my own success, because I would rather make excuses and justify failure and hear myself speak than actually go out there and try to make something happen. I sabotaged my own success through poor judgment and irrational behavior. What did I do?"

"Now it does not matter because I am dead. That is great - just great. Unable to succeed in life or death; this shit never ends! Is ignorance, lack of self worth, low self esteem and poor personal image infinite as well? Will I take my worldly woes into eternity? This just can not be! Wow. Of all the things...right in the middle of my feel sorry for me tangent and my mind plays back a reflection on this movie screen, interrupting the worst film ever made called, This Was My Life. Thank god
for intermissions eh? Good fucking grief."

-Cabbott Bennett

Alberta, Canada

(Researcher)

Mr. Bennett was a real estate investor who lost it all during the market/economy crash in 2008. After losing all he had gained from his career; a home, nice car and a little money saved, he found himself back in Alberta looking for work. After not being able to find a job for a while, he decided to commit suicide. What you just read, was found on the screen of his laptop in a Word document. The laptop was found on the floor next to his body. But what does that have to do with The Dream Weaver, you may ask. Well, police also discovered that Mr. Bennett indulged in the use of Tarot cards, found spread out on his coffee table. The last card was the Death Card. There were words melted onto the table surface in candle wax that read, "kill" and "die." 

In both Ms. Glass's case and Mr. Bennett's case, the experiences they had sound more like demonic spirits, evil energy or just plain rough luck; I concluded it could not be the same "source" as Natalei and Neftali have described throughout. Neither case mentioned anything about Nethaleo.

So it's back to the drawing board. The Fire Walk leads on...

Trillions of years of creation in outer space, billions of years in creating our own galaxy, and we still do not have a paradise of rest. It is possible there is a new heaven and new earth, but it is not in this solar system. The old earth will become the new hell: separated from the life source for eternity.

Remember

It is the greatest love story ever told; the story of a parent's unconditional love for their children gone astray. The parents find the children and try everything known

possible to win back the trust and affection so the children will finally come home. To be remembered, to be whole again, to be in love, this is the Human Passion. To love and be loved deeply and eternally; this is God's Passion.

Had I not experienced it for myself, I would not have believed it. I did not know it was possible to still dream after you are dead. Once realizing that all these images, patterns, emotions and all outwardly expressed fanatics were indeed nothing more than fiction seasoned with non-fiction, I came to the conclusion that death in stillness, is all just one long dream.

Constant images of your past combined with other people's past - - this is the waiting station for the deceased. There is still an ability to feel and touch, but it's magnified. The mind is sharper, the heart is full and there is always a warm radiant light that emits from the soul.

Who knew the human soul is about the size of the pinky finger from the joint to the tip? It's amazing! Well, when you get here, you will find out for yourself.

Ah...there is an old familiar tune. I loved this song when I was alive. Stevie Wonder's, Sailing. 

 ..."through the corners of my mind, spend some time going sailing. Be surprised what you will find...take a chance on your mind...be surprised what you'll find..." Oh yeah, this song sets like a sunset on a warm Spring day. 

Ezechiel saw us and told the world about us and our flight. While it was not the first flight witnessed on earth, it was the first to be recorded and acknowledged by those who had the ability to control literature, texts, and scriptures. Ezechiel did not know of Lazarus, who was transported in this manner. He also did not know of the many trips we made back and forth to various areas of the earth, spreading the same message to all. But he did have a way with words. And so he was allowed by our permission, to record what he saw that warm summer night in June. Ezechiel, tell them of your wheels.

Sir Peter Robson's

Ezekiel's Vision

"In the sixth year, in the sixth month, on the fifth day of the month, as I sat in my house, with the elders of Judah sitting before me, the hand of the Lord GOD fell there upon me (Ezekiel). Then I beheld, and lo, a form that had the appearance of a man; below what appeared to be his loins it was fire, and above his loins it was like the appearance of brightness, like gleaming bronze. He put forth the form of a hand, and took me by a lock of my head; and the Spirit lifted me up between earth and
heaven, and brought me in visions of God to Jerusalem, to the entrance of the gateway of the inner court that faces north, where was (located) the seat of the image of jealousy, which provokes (God) to jealousy. And behold, the (Shekinah) glory of the God of Israel was there, like the vision that I saw in the plain."

Yes, the mind and heart are as open and vast as the universe. But what if the mind and heart had limits? Does the universe have limits? Is there a point at which time and space stops? Is there a point at which all that can be done is done? Some say no. The possibilities are endless. Others believe that by certain calculations, infinity can be determined and that which we believe to be endless, actually does have a stopping point. It is at that point we look back and reflect. We can review, reflect, regroup, and recreate. In essence, do it all over again, only better. Wake Up.

-DeMaster Thomas-