From about the age of 13 to age 17, I was temporarily psychic. I dunno what caused it. Adolescent hormones, who knows. But I was constantly experiencing déjà vu. Sometimes dramatic,
I saw my dog die, twice. Pal. He was chasing a cat, doing a figure eight around our Volkswagen and a Norfolk Island Pine. I was running around trying to stop him. At the end of the final circle, the cat ran out into our street; my dog followed; a car hit him.
While I’m running around trying to catch my dog, I remember the dream. I can see the future. I know exactly what’s going to happen, and there’s no way to stop it.
I even remember remembering the dream – within the dream. And the feeling of absolute helplessness.
Screech. Thump.
So it was written.
Most of the time, it was random crap. I’d dream shit and it would happen and there was absolutely no point to it. Some friends took my bicycle apart and put it up in a tree as a joke. Walking through the mall with my cousin. The cover of a book. No significance.
I’d get into a certain mental state, a feeling of clarity, connectedness and disconnectedness at the same time. In that state, I could do ridiculous runs of coin flips. Heads, head, tails, heads, tails, tails, tails, heads, tails, heads. I'd call it; I'd be right, again and again. Ask my sister.
I won a math contest by seeing the number on a flash card – 33 – and working out the score before the math genius had a chance. Up goes the card. “1089,” I say. OK, card counting maybe. But this kind of thing happened all the time.
Then, about age 17, it started to fade.
Now, aside from this bizarre experience, I’m the most materialistic, least hoo-doo person in the world. The idea of atoms deeply reassured me. It meant the coat in the closet couldn’t turn into a monster. Great. But I actually experienced this shit. I know the conventional explanation of a temporary lag in two normally coactive sensory nerves is bullshit. I had dreams that came true. I told some of them to various people, wrote some of them down in advance. I can’t prove it. But I know.
And, if you think about it logically and scientifically, the implication of any psychic prediction of the future is deeply disturbing. Before we start, let’s eliminate reincarnation. I wasn’t walking around a fucking mall with my cousin in a past life. But you knew I was going to say that, right?
OK, here goes …
Explanations for precognition:
Time is like a four-dimensional movie. The self (spirit, soul, whatever you want to call it) can project itself ahead on the timeline and scope out the coming attractions.
Time is a four dimensional structure. Our senses give us data about what’s happening “now.” Other, subtler senses are receiving data from the future. In dreams or certain meditative states, we become aware of it.
The human mind is an amazingly powerful computer. On a subconscious level, it’s capable of figuring out exactly what’s going to happen in the future. It’s not really precognition; it’s a deduction.
The human mind has the power to alter reality. I.e.: the precognitive dream didn’t predict the car wreck. It caused the car wreck.
The human mind creates reality. Nothing exists “out there.” Life is just a dream. Sometimes we dream the same thing twice.
Life is a virtual reality game or entertainment scenario. We have, literally, seen certain segments before. Some mechanism causes us to forget. Occasionally, the mechanism doesn’t work.
Some entity (good, evil, spiritual or material) with access to information about the future is feeding that information into our heads.
Well, that’s all I can think of for now.
Does any of that seem fun?
Sunday, January 17, 1999
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