My name is Kit with the middle name Talon, so long or short of it is I guess you can call me Talon. I don't know if I need help or if I should ask for it, but other than my spirit guides and ancestors that are around me, guiding me and instructing me, I think I need guidance.
My story isn't an easy one for me to tell, but I have found myself sharing it and I think that in some ways he is confusing things and making them more complicated.
Let me start out by saying that the precognition tests, psychic tests, sensitive tests don't work for me. My ability doesn't work doing the cards and I stopped using tarot cards, crystals and other external items to help channel my ability. They are just tools to me. They only happen to help me interpret what I hear and see in ways that may not frighten someone if they ask me questions that they honestly do not want the answers to. And when people ask me questions, something always wants the answer.
I live in a world that is best described seen through static. I can see the physical environment but I also see them. The after impressions of those who have been here before and the shadows of those who linger. It's something plain as day for me in the layers of static in which I can see their auras as though in addition to their image as though they were alive.
I don't just see them, I hear them. But it's not like it's in my head or from a single fixed location. I've paid attention log enough to know that they move and the sound they make is like they are moving... Yay Doppler effect.
Sometimes I wonder if it's more like theory and I'm only imagining what could be between the layers of the realities around my own, but I know that isn't true. Perhaps they are things in the dimensional plane we normally do not hear or see?
Anyway, dealing with things in this world and not the dream one are totally different. The messages I receive and give are normally one time messages or instructions for an event that is to occur. I can tell you that on one occasion while in Los Angeles I walked up to a woman who spoke no English who was upset. One of the entities was communicating a sentence or two over and over again. It got louder as I walked by the woman and when I was close enough to sleek with her casually I was encompassed by blinding light and the voice was insistent. I kind if stood there until I repeated what I was hearing. The woman started crying and touched my hand, talking in a rush of something I did t understand. I dint know what I said to her but I think it was Russian or another Slavic language. I never thought to record what I had said while I could remember it clearly so I could have it translated, but I also realize I may not have been supposed to know.
I know very few things about this part of my gift other than I was prepared and able to prevent things that would have otherwise happened and that in a number of situations prepared me to face some of the most difficult things that have happened during my thirty years of life.
The thing is, while I think this is crazy and that I may be losing my grasp on reality, I know I have a firm grip on said reality and haven't lost it yet.
I also know that like on TV alcohol surprises my waking abilities nearly completely. While I can turn down the noise and push back the static on my own when needed, they can still break through that. Alcohol completely shuts it off. (I am beginning to believe that this is why my mother is an alcoholic)
My dream world experience is totally different from that which is waking.
My dreamworld, in which I am not shown images of things that can be, consists of the place where the bones speak. It's a cavern beyond the fields of the dead, I know nearly surrounded by rock, and the bones of ancestors sit about it in a circle.
I have been visiting this place since I was young. For many years dreams of this place would wake me screaming in fright. I remember telling my mom that they were speaking to me and I was scared. In her wisdom she told me to ask them what they wanted. When I found the courage to do so everything changed.
Family members and my spirit guides, the entire menagerie of them, began speaking to me clearly. And I started listening. I knew that when the time was right I would come to the place I live now and there was an urgency about this. I also received guidance with dealing part of my abilities. I got to know my guides and learned to trust them.
Nearly nine months ago, the dynamic with this place where the bones speak changed. Someone else was wandering there who was alive and in the years I had been visiting this place there had never been any other there alive.
I was also given messages meant for this person, a coworker who I care about, though my own fears stopped me from delivering them and would often prevent basic communication with him.
I didn't give him the messages. In fact it was strange for me to receive so many for one person. When I confronted my great grandmother about this she called him what roughly translates in Polish as soul piece. She told me we are pieces of the same. I was also instructed other things that were specific, ignore Plato. At the time I was reading Ouspensky and others and Plato was in my queue and I would put Plato aside until two days ago.
For months my sleep has been interrupted and next to no sleep because I would wake up after my journey to the place the bones speak. For months I did nothing with the messages. A month ago I started writing them down and I woke I would pull out a calendar and begin penning the messages based which were to be delivered based on factors like lunar cycle, solar holidays, hours from when I woke. The times these messages were to be delivered were my best guess of when to deliver them. Even then, I ignored the call.
A small bit if background information is that I am epileptic. My condition developed following a head injury and is aggravated by lights that flash or strobe. I am however effected adversely by the spirits in the static. I have on three occasions experienced full grand mal seizures in contrast to my normal partial walking seizures. During these three instances I have lost consciousness and control of my body. The symptoms that follow are normally resolved by making a big decision. In the case of the last one it was to talk to the other piece about the messages I have for him. Luckily for me he is someone who believes in things like this.
We've spent some time together and we talked about my abilities and the messages. He said he was worried I had started telling him these things because I wanted him to "like" me.
So I just answered his questions and suddenly stopped talking. The last time we had spent time together I lost a ring. I honestly thought this ring was lost on a hiking trip when a friend had dropped my camera into the water and I dove after it. That had occurred the week after we had last spent time together. Now it is seven months later and the being that I believe follows him, a women clearly said to tell him that SHE says my ring is here and that he has it. This was the third time my ring had been lost and returned to me. (Once during an ice climbing class only to be found in the spring semester while pulling rocks out of the river for a geology class and a second time it went through a snow blower only to be fou d the next winter while shoveling.)
He said I may have convinced him but I know it isn't up to me to convince him of anything.
Further conversations reveal that we are "into" each other. He isn't sure if he's into me for me or because he doesn't want to be alone and that has been his dilemma for months. Me, with my rocky past, I have irrational fears that he will develop the same tendencies that occurred in previous relationships. (Or have things gone badly in previous relationships because they weren't the right relationship?) I don't think I could stand to watch someone go through that kind of change again from someone I care for to someone who's behave becomes a need to control.
At an impasse, with much confusion I continue delivering messages to him because I know I need to. Each time I get a "how do you do that" response, oddly enough the messages mean little to nothing to me but of course make sense to him.
It's even more amusing when it's not a message from the place that bones speak and come from the static that is always there. He thinks one of them is his grandmother, based on what happens and his descriptions of the woman I am inclined to believe that is a possibility.
The messages specifically for him keep coming in little floods including a letter that I am supposed to write for him knowing it only comes from my great grandmother who reassures me that if he sees her picture that he will know her, somehow recognize her. That fact strikes something in me that I'm not able to convey accurately.
This letter, it's not in English or even Polish or German which I could, with much difficulty put into writing and even babble fish after. How does one write a letter in a language they do not know or even begin to write what they hear phonetically?
What I do know is that there are far too many things happening between him and I to label this all as coincidences. There are far too many other messages that I receive on the 'fly' that I deliver as quickly as possible so that they are still fresh.
I also wonder if anyone else out there perceives the world around them the same way I do. If there are, I would certainly like to meet them and learn how they have learned to cope with this ability that I've had all my life that always leaves me spinning.
It's almost like some fairy tale and I know I feel like I'm going crazy (er) or that I have gone unsane.
I'll continue to heed the warnings from the static and continue delivering those messages as well. The question though, is what's next? Do I do anything? Am I going crazy. Right now I want nothing more to drown what I can of all of this out.
I know there is more to this story than that and I know that I think I'm supposed to write about this somewhere. Maybe someone has gone through something similar. Maybe someone has advice or even words that can comfort my racing mind and heart. It's strange to always know when he's near before he walks by and if the message that pops up next is from him or not.
I also know that I am afraid. Afraid to be hurt, and afraid to continue to share the things I see and hear, and afraid of the consequences of sharing, and also of what would happen if I am not.
In peace and reaching out through the static I've shared my story with you today in hope of some sort of understanding that I haven't been able to grasp yet.