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https://www.psychforums.com/blog/OMNICELL/dissociation_b-12827_sid-e49bf778216a690b1de7d6f871c3f633.html

Author:  OMNICELL [ Thu Jun 06, 2019 4:58 pm ]
Blog Subject:  Dissociation

Im at this point; a place; an awareness.
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Im starting to reach inward; I can see the turbulence; like a river pulling downward; deeper n deeper in that specific.
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The river wants to speak to me; its hands are pointing to the ledge further down below; in the murkiness of wirlpools; the dark. an awareness; suddenly below; Im looking through glass; I feel safe; Yet its courant; a tornado; a turbulence; moving, seeking, its under my feet; I can see it; tributaries of edged time energies flowing; Their having a great time; but a serious time; everything is moving; I cant stop it. rocks; thats what it looks like; energy flowing over rocks; sandy; I feel like Im on a beach looking out at the sea. Is it really glass, or am I a ghost. Im so under the water toe. Im under water; gripping possibilities; many possibilities. Why am I surrounded; I hear the pulses; so confident and defiant. The energy is spinning ; the energy is screaming; pointing; I can see it; the flow; the flow of my life. I see 2 me’s; one is standing behind the other...
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It cant go their. its been to hurt; It talks to itself; its broken up into slices of a tree; like tree limbs cut like a cake for a childs birthday party; no candles tho; just quickness/quicksand . Im not sinking; Im watching; vanish; now its back. It looses sight; its loosing its own sight, its own way.
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Im on a stair case of concrete; circling; its going downward. Im day dreaming in the underworld. Is the faucet on again; the basin was used by many combine merchants seeking to sell just a little more wheat on a dusty day; but we all have to clean up and eat lunch.
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Caves have always scared me; a highway of water doeth commith; Its a directical- current; so sure its going to win; its won many times; I can see the flat shadows of the death. More then one death. They crawl around looking for their sun glasses.. Their hands really dont want to go... That current binds me.
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Ots a friendly stare case.
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The turbulence below me; It reminds me of the checkerboard killer from Russia; that kid is falling in through the darkness and the current grabbed him; One minute he was living with the trees; and then poof; he’s gone skiing down the water river; the ice cold fasting moving turbulence would have scared me; The checkerboard killer looked both ways before he through him in. Things happen we wish would not.
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Things happened to me.
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I see the current; I can see it and feel it; its warm and a bit blocked; its not cold; but not hot; its not inviting but not scary; but its got the tank like determination; its got extermination and direction. metal leading metal. commands bouncing within inner walls; bouncing and bouncing; shift through the light, into another compartment; change shapes; change colors and find itself invited in to the captains dock; its a friendly invite; and begins its mission to take over.
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the turbulence is protecting a secret; the inner me is maddening. The secret is transparent; its hiding in water; very good; I would have never guessed it.
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the hidden sleeve; so silent and shy; waving but focused by innocence. No one would ever know. A direction; its got purpose.
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I can feel the energy and enthusiasm before the euthanasia.
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the crippling of a bag of sea weed.
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Im a sponge; and Im forced. Im a sponge and Im forced to live... They attack me all night long.
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The hands that feed; the hands that kill. the words of a machine.
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Im heading toward the heart land; and Ive never been their before and Im invited; and Im excited; they don't think I own it. I own them; and Im coming for them; safe or not safe; its me; Im here; prepare the feast.
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So the turbulence is beneath me and I walk through it. ITs the middle....
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I have much to dissociate for. Im reaching out to dissociation...
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Im making friends with dissociation. Im seeing; Im sea-ing at the ocean; Im in flight. the ropes are hard to climb...
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Im rendered but real magic.
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Im scared but I don't need your help. For it is a friendly enemy..
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The ropes are leading down ward; several twisting brawning- ropes; strong and ti’d right. I look down; and I see the current; its moving like an invisible tornado; the kind I read about in a book.
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Nothing is stopping me anymore; but something is stopping me anymore.
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A round steal spike directly impaled into the water; blackholes pull the light inward; I guess it has weight. weight like cans of steal hanging from a rusty chain swinging to the old music.
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Im starting to see my reflection in the river; its starting at the ground up and surfacing; Its showing its face on the top of the river; and now its moving upward levitating above the river and now its floating away; and it never looks any other direction then up; their it goes; bye face; hope you have a nice flight.
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Rocks are scurrying at the bottom of the pond.. I see them; like black scorpions readying for a war; but its their kind of war; still; their uneasy; but their always uneasy..
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And my foot slips deeper and deeper into the middle of it all; the clear cold water under the current.
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Im getting closer.
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dissociation is becoming my orange friend; its like a sherbet rainbow only for killing machines to cross; but Im in the scrap meadow jumping with the over-fences and find myself walking underground and talking like the animals. One of us is going to win if the bowling ball would stop talking to us and the gold pieces within the adjoining water lanes; but those lanes are sunken treasures moving and shaking within the tributaries; the middle is always clear but shallow....
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And then I start to go deeper....

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