"Don't be afraid."
I tried to say, "I am not afraid." Me, a scared little wierd guy had a sudden attack of bravery to this very odd scene. But I found I couldn't say a thing. I was paralyzed. I had no idea what it all meant, so I went to sleep while the being went on with the strange ritual.
Flash forward to puberty, I would have strange nighttime events during bouts of insomnia. Loud noises like cicadas screeching in my ears plagued me on many nights. I had stopped telling my parents about weird shit that was happening to me. It only seemed to worry them. Fortunately, they had this kind of "he'll grow out of it" take on my odd behavior. Still, they often wondered aloud that I might need counseling. The ringing and screeching in my ears stopped around the same time that I had my first tastes of marijuana and sex. I don't know whether to draw a connection to these or not.
Last night again, I felt a visitation, a lucid state of orgonic streamings. It wasn't exactly that bioelectric feeling, or the creeping warmness up the spine. It was more akin to soaking in some kind of spiritual medium. It felt imposed and not internally derived. I thought that I owed the recent change to the book I had been reading. What new faculty? Or was it access to a hidden system of circulation? Or was it the aliens fucking with me again? Like the time my spinal column spontaneously realigned during yoga causing me to collapse with laughter. There are subtle differences here, but I know now I would never be subject to reductionist worldview again.
This is no body machine, but the rubber frog hobby of which the ancients spoke at great length (must ask 5 newt fire, a Mayan deadweb denizen). I wonder if I'd be able to do without the mummy, just cast off without the ship, jettison the elyctical wormcasket, float off like a knot of information passed amongst a cloud of particles. And maybe that's what I already am, a field of form associated with some convenient matter.