Synchronicity, Past Life Dreams, and Astral Projection

I didn’t really want to publish this one, but it’s been on my mind a lot ever since I crashed my truck back in March on my birthday. I guess since I’m getting older these events no longer really bother me so much and it’s become easier to make sense of everything that’s happened. Something about getting older has made me more grim and yet also happier. The majority of these events happened around 10 years ago, and now I am nearing 30. I’ve changed a significant amount in that short time.

When I was on the threshold of manhood and adulthood, I partook of that time-honored Midwestern tradition of traveling out West to play music in an erstwhile attempt to fulfill my artistic desires. It is safe to say that I never amounted to much in terms of musical achievement, although I did enjoy my pursuits out there and greatly appreciated the glorious landscapes of the West Coast. Amidst the degenerate usage of marijuana, mushrooms, cocaine, LSD, MDMA, and alcohol, I met many beautiful women with sensual bodies, drugged minds, and lukewarm spirits. During this time, I became increasingly interested in conspiracies, esotericsm, and eroticism, leading towards my liberalization since no one in my environment could provide me with a healthy and wholesome traditional view of these things. I had rejected Christianity, but without a proper historical narrative tying me to my folk, I fell into anarchistic hippy-dom tainted by the liberal malaise of Portland, Los Angeles, and Seattle.

Rising from this malaise as though she were the shining jewel of it all was a red-haired woman of Irish and Iranian descent. You couldn’t tell she had Iranian blood whatsoever, although her mother and brother were both obviously Persians. She was naturally pale like snow with dark auburn hair treated with red henna hair dye to make the fiery sheen more visible, and her facial features were like those of an Irish bird, carven into soft stone and tightly woven with dimples made from constant smiling. I had actually already matched with her on some dating app before moving West, and again matched with her on a different app once there. Within the first month of me being in Oregon, I was going on dates with this young woman. I remember when I first met her: it was outside of a sandwich shop and I was wearing my signature Boston t-shirt and reading the Silmarillion. She drove up in a Mini Cooper and walked up to me wearing a sundress. When I saw her, I immediately realized that I had dreams of this young woman while I was in my childhood — there were a few different dreams which later came true over the course of my short time with her, and at the time, I tried to bury them and ignore them. In hindsight, it is obvious that my childhood mind was trying to warn me of this dangerous woman, but at the time, I really wanted to ignore these childish dreams and instead fancy her as some sort of magical happenstance.

I barely ate my sandwich and was simply enthralled by her beauty. After lunch, she pulled out her Nintendo Switch and we played Shovel Knight, a two player game where you play as a shovel-wielding Knight who is seeking to free his cursed lover, Shield Knight, who has become an evil enchantress. During the opening scrawl of the game, there was a pixelated pine forest and strangely enough, I had seen this pixelated pine forest on my one and only DMT trip which I had some years prior to this event. For those of you who have not taken DMT, I must confess that you are not missing anything. The experience was terrible and frightening and when I saw that my visions in that psychedelic trip had been manifested in real life, I found myself enchanted as though bewitched by a wicked spell. I was taken aback — here was a woman who I had dreams about in my childhood, and here was a game that I had visions of while on a powerful psychedelic. We later got chased out of a park for staying well beyond its closing hours — you can imagine why we were lingering in her car so late at night.

While visiting her in Seattle, I became incensed against corporate capitalism and industrialization, and I experienced a true existential crisis of identity and purpose. I remember walking down the streets of some suburban town looking at the liberals and Mexicans mingling in the shadows of the concrete jungle with some wondrous fairy-tale forested mountain in the background. I remember hating modern society without having a clear route to something better, and I began thinking about what I should do to rectify this. This is also the time period when my childhood dreams of her came true — in one dream, she was sitting on a bench with her brother and I thought that he was an evil influence on her, and that scene happened in real life (I will not mention the others). Suffice to say, I was very anxious to fix the problems that were mounting in my life. So, I kissed my lover goodbye and told her wait for me, and I left my musical pursuits for a time, returning East to work on the family farm with plans purchase a travel trailer. My goal was not certain, but I wanted to travel America and escape from the modern world as much as possible and I foolishly saw a travel trailer as that escape. I was very naive and lost.

Suffice to say, this did not help my situation whatsoever. About a month after my departure from the drug-addled world of the West Coast, my red-haired lover began to see someone new and she dumped me. My goal of getting a travel trailer would not be realized for another four years as I kept getting distracted and depressed, seeking to go back West for more music, and perhaps the chance to see this woman again. I dated a few girls here and there, but I was never as entranced as I was with her. During this depressing period, I learned that she posted lewd pictures online, and my desire for her turned to resentment, and I came to the conclusion that I must exorcise this wood-witch, this water-nymph, this utterly lost woman from my heart and soul.

Well, I became very depressed after her removal from my life, coupled with the grim reality that she was not some “parfaite et petit” princess, but was instead a salope, a slut, a drag on my manhood. I am actually incredibly thankful for this experience since that existential identity crisis that pushed me towards hierarchy, patriarchy, folkism, and paganism, and her behavior taught me much about the nature of women. But, I still struggled, and five years passed by while I lived in a melancholy stupor about the state of the world and the state of my soul. So, one night, I reached out to the Void and asked for a dream that might help me come to terms with everything — the childhood dreams, the DMT trip, the wild synchronicities — and the Void answered. Like many of these other experiences, the dream was miserable. It was incredibly vivid and realistic, to this day I have only had a couple dreams so vivid, and I am completely adamant that this dream depicted a part of my soul-complex coming from some German ancestor of mine.

In the dream, I was a blonde-haired German-American who traveled to Europe to fight for fatherland Germany in WW1. At the Battle of the Somme, I ended up shot through the right calve (right where I have a birthmark, it faded after I had this dream and is barely visible) and took refuge in a bomb crater. There was another German soldier there with a sucking chest wound, and he was crying out for his mother. My dream consciousness recognized this as a close friend of mine from this life who was born without a chest muscle right where he had been shot in the dream. I ended up captured by British troops and taken to a POW field hospital. It was in this field hospital that I was tended to by a red-haired Irish-American nurse who I recognized as my past lover from this life. I became enamored with her, and upon my release from imprisonment, I tracked her down to New York City where she was working as a botanist (the girl from this life was very interested in plants and bio-chemistry). I lived as a homeless vagabond and let my leg wound fester while I slept in culverts near to where she worked. One day, I found myself in a German clock shop and I spoke to an elderly German man who I recognized as a close friend of mine from this life. His family is tied to clock-makers and he has a grandfather clock tattooed on his arm for this. Well, this old German man tried to comfort me but I stole a pistol from him and clubbed him to death, then went to confront the red-haired woman. I raped her, then shot myself in the temple. I was born shock blonde in this life but all my hair faded to brown except for one patch on the side of my head, right where I shot myself in the dream. After the dream, it has since faded and is no longer visible. Quite a grim story, I know.

Well, when I woke up from this terrible dream, I found myself locked in sleep paralysis. This used to happen to me often as a child but hadn’t happened in years. I found myself calmer than usual and I thought to myself “I will just gather all of my energy together and leap out of bed in one powerful motion” and so I did, but when my bare feet touched the cold concrete floor of my bedroom, I knew something was wrong even though I was fully conscious — the first sign was that my blankets weren’t thrown to the ground when I made my tremendous leap. I looked down at my naked body (I sleep in the buff) and saw that my body was incredibly pale, almost translucent and glowing soft white light. I looked up at my bed and saw my sleeping body still struggling against the sleep paralysis. I looked around my room and saw the morning light coming beneath the doorway. This was no dream, I was literally outside of my body. Something in the back of my mind knew that I could walk around and explore this side of reality, but I became incredibly fearful for my body and immediately wanted to return to its safety. Suddenly, whatever part of my soul that had leapt out of bed was sucked right back into my body, and I awoke from my sleep paralysis with a deep gasp of air and terror.

I never tried to astral project again, and I have never had such a vivid dream as that one since. Sometimes I dream of future events, but it is always hard to tell which vivid dream is denoting something real or not until it happens. This is a constant occurrence in my life now, and I get cryptic messages in my dreams warning me about things to come, just like the meme. This might all sound fantastical to the reader, yet all of this really happened. I don’t know why I decided to write this, but I guess that some part of me felt that it was important to write this stuff down. It’s been ten years since I saw that woman, five years since the dream and astral projection, and now I am nearing thirty. I’ve known and loved other women, and I have had many other spiritual experiences which far outweigh the ones described here.

My life has been filled with adventure, excitement, and wanderlust, so I consider myself incredibly fortunate and blessed. That is all coming to a close, and I feel my roots growing deep into the soil of the Midwest and Appalachia, the lands of my family. I am now fully realized as a man, and I am looking forward to the next decade of my life, proud and pro-White, and a devout pagan and political dissident.