Contacting a Friend Who Passed

Contacting a Friend Who Passed

By | 2019-06-06T05:55:06+00:00 June 6th, 2019|Uncategorized|0 Comments

A friend died in April in an accident. I can’t describe the nature of it here, because it was all over the news for a few days, I was involved in it, and I don’t want to get doxxed.

I was curious about some details that I didn’t witness. I took me a while, but finally 10 days later I was able to get lucid and reach out to him.

First Call

I become lucid and step out of bed.

I say his name and reach out mentally, as if making a phone call through the dimensions.

“Hey hey!” he immediately replies, his normal greeting.

Ok, that’s him. Or it’s his exact voice. You never know with these dream things. But I’ll proceed assuming it could be him.

I start pacing around to anchor myself, and it’s also the same kind of pacing I do when I’m talking on the phone. I’m in a mansion with long hallways and many rooms. Perfect for pacing. I guess I came up with it for that reason.

I ask him how he’s doing. He’s good.

I briefly describe the accident, not really sure of how much he remembers or how this all works, and ask him about what happened at that point and what he did.

He doesn’t seem to be interested in talking about it. He has some other things to say. Maybe he can’t remember the accident? I mean, I probably wouldn’t want to remember either. We forget things for a good reason.

I enter one of the bedrooms and flop down on the bed. He talks about how he’s on “chapter 2” now and wants to share it. What does that mean? Like a book he’s writing? Or are we talking like metaphorically he’s on the next chapter of his existence?

I stand back up and try to get him back on track again. I repeat my interest in the accident and ask him what happened next.

His voice changes to something sneaky sounding. I can’t understand a word he’s saying.

“Could you repeat that?” I ask.

He says the same thing, and I can’t decipher it.

“We have some kind of communication problem here,” I tell him. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

“One moment,” he says, in a different voice.

Silence. Nothing more.

Second Call

A week later I get lucid, stand up out of bed, and do the same as I did before: I say his name and reach out.

Silence. Hmm.

Maybe it will just take a moment.

I say his name again, making sure I’m saying it right.

I stand there for a bit longer and it’s still just silence.

Notes After Waking

Could be that he’s moved on enough that he can’t communicate in this way? Maybe the audio call method isn’t going to work anymore? It didn’t work great the first time. Maybe I would need to use “thoughtspeak” as Kevin calls it, the standard nonverbal way of communicating concepts without using a language like English. I was so focused on speaking and listening that I guess I wasn’t being open to other impressions, but I think I get the idea of thoughtspeak and could try doing it.

At this point I’m not sure I’ll try again. It’s not that important. Contacting him would be fun, but I don’t know if I’ll even bring up the accident if I do.

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