Grandpa C. Corn Knew 1960 Till 2053 When

A quirky man reveals past lives, his mind lives in a spirit dream world.

 

                                   Grandpa C. Corn Knew 1960 Till 2053  When

      The end time is near, all hope is lost for a maniac and his dreams. There are mostly several past lives which were exceptional in my own life to say the least. Six to be exact. This current one being the best road to a higher calling. Knowing what I believe, and had always followed my instinct to the best of my ability. Knowing the longer road is the easiest. As time flowed effortlessly by and by, and despair seeped into every fiber of my thought. Constant grasping of any spark of inspiration in desperation. Meditating for hours on a single glimmer of hope got me through the easy parts. Hanging on became difficult though, by knowing who I am and really am. The glimmer could turn into a bonfire if I knew how to build upon it, and I always have before.

       My remaining three lives can be spectacular, and curiosity is something to hold on for, that those days come often is something to remember. Like a cat which has been bounced off the ground from falling down off a tree limb hitting the ground on its feet first. My life rolled in a better fashion all the time. It was no matter what ever happened good or rotten. The good times were an opportunity for me to spread the wealth. If not for strangers to appreciate the little things, maybe there wouldn't be any faith in humanity for me to feel. Some of the nicest people I have ever met who gave me sound advice, were acquaintances. Maybe the power of greater good comes to you at times which are least expected. It has to work that way, or the opportunity wouldn't present itself. Life is a strange mystery like that. Once the moment of relief comes into your mind, which drives you to believe  there are finer persons out there. Its again, the small things which matter, and cause the question; can hope be a reality again. When the end time is near, and its those moments we must grasp on to, I know it must be so. Where would the after life be without thoughts of arriving with only despair or sorrow. When something supposed to last forever, depression is the last thing to take with you. There's enough dirty baggage from a life time, for those bags need to be left at the doorstep. I know my last days will come. I plan I'll have a long walk by myself before my last hours. To confer with ones own soul, or just unwind the feeling of tension.

      To appreciate something small, if only there will be something. The smallest things are what screws up a well laid out plan. Also the tiniest over looked details, are the worst in the end. But the two must work hand in hand so many times, as if one of the most common of common mistakes are the ones we can't see clearly. Fear can keep a person alive, but we can never get past the reality. Most times we remember details through our fear. But like most feeling people try to avoid until the unstoppable emotion hits midstream  right through in our path of  the destiny we were meant to have. Makes a person feel vulnerable, weak, and human. The least of things on our plate to have to think about. The end time is getting closer by every moment. We are not getting out alive, not escaping the reality we are only human. Which does mean the same for all of us, evil minded or purist. There will be no comparison of which is our final destination. Its what ever fits the life style at the particular moment. For my remaining three lives I will have to pass through. In a world of uncertainty. The turning a glimmer of hope into a bonfire could be a trick to remember, as if mastering it were easy.

      The end time waits for me, its carved in stone, and set out for me. We all have it coming some day, its a matter of how we want to spend the time in between which is going to matter the most. As for the greater good, a picture in the mind is worth more than just words. The trick is remembering such moments, and hopefully stringing them together on occasion. Worse things can happen, it is a free and loose world we live in. But not to say the end time is gaining a tighter grip, or approaching any faster than the grand plan has in store for the final hours. The answer will be revealed in a vision, mine has. All the hope is in the sanity in it, to believe its true. There is hope for people who hold on, and hold on tight. But loosing it takes on a whole different scene, a thought and a picture of true survival. Or at least the way I have always seen myself. Like my crazy luck, if I were ever hit by lightning. I am the kind of person who would survive to tell about it. I know my time is near, but also believe I am covered by some great white cloud until then. The dark days come around in disguise, because you never know who  to, or when they will happen, but they do. So dreaming of surviving horrific accidents must serve a purpose. Its readiness for the worse in a way, its just me, and the way I happen to think sometimes. Simple entertainment at best for anyone dark, and we are all dark.

     Almost my personal drama when I am feeling the blues. At last the thought of killing myself struck me. Not serious of course, but in my mind as a scenario. Jumping out of an airplane was interesting, and better than having someone throw me out of a plane. I haven't done anything to anyone too terrible. Not lately, but there is no chance. Imagine myself on one of these pleasure plane rides. And without warning I open the side doors and leap out. There was the strangest feeling once the thought crossed my mind. I didn't want to be hit by the tail wing. But I pictured myself plunging to the ground feet first. I could only imagine what would happen to my body. Hitting the ground from that kind of fall. I don't think a person can live from the crushing blow to the body. Instantly breaking almost every bone in my body. Death would be certain. But as usual, I always think there is the definite possibility of living through it. With my crazy luck of fate, there is a good chance it would happen to me. And it couldn't happen to a nicer guy; which I would live. Of course it would be old news, so that was the end. Imagination takes many twists and turns in a persons head. As for me; admitting to myself, I can live through anything. It is of course a pass time when the dark feelings get on my nerves. I am no way suicidal, because I love my life too much, and too afraid to end it that way. I would just rather take the good with the bad and ride life out the best I can. Keeping the faith on the way until my end time is near, and it will get here when it gets here, and so be it. Who am I to mess it up, and if some things  are working out  so fine, and going as planned; don't push it. For my past veiws on reaching the after life were not exactly the way I visioned them. I am not totally crazy, I only wanted to stop the headaches. My past lives were never any doubt in my self, I knew where I have been, but unsure some times where my direction was headed. I know now though, and ready to resume my quest. There were probably more past lives, until they are revealed, and they will be. All of my answers to questions have to wait, and my dreams will show me the way.

      Meet The Dead Crowd

      As strange things happened, which indeed were never intended to. Warning myself way in advance of the dangers I might be facing. Fearful of the tribal instinct of people, and steering clear of unbelievers. Telling myself to resist the temptation over and over. There was a possibility of giving into entering the dimension I missed so dearly. An even more likely chance, of curiosity getting the best of grandpa. Seeing unbelievable sights of objects moving on their own over the years. Hearing unexplained sounds, as if not being totally alone all these years. Times which were a sense, and feeling of someone watching me. A cold touch, and a cold sense of another persons presence and breath on me. Awakened by an odd calling, a pleasant dream story, a story of what tragedy happened. To whom-where and who the person was with. Revealing this to me, I did not know why, but felt being picked to tell the story of this person. She said her name was, Nice and died in a horrific burning car crash. Visual pictures of people I have not known before. Awakened by a tap on the shoulder, I felt a cold breath afterwards, confirming my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. Being all alone with these strange things happening, which will remain a mystery, asking the why me over, and over. Being afraid, and backing off mentioning it to anyone. Most of all from being haunted, but couldn't control Nice going away. Scared of the thought of actually contacting dead people. Hearing of it being done, but this came as a complete surprise during a dream at first. Barely convinced, wanting desperately to connect, and ending the visits. Nice brought a whole crowd of other dead peoples spirits behind her, they were all around her. I never found out yet, who they were.

     Eventually because its been done, and thinking the spirit world isn't totally done with me yet. Nice and her friends will come again when I am not expecting it. All these thoughts have crossed my mind often, going as far back to earlier visits by total strangers while awake. These spirits are brave, its probably what they bring with them, to keep us from being scared of them. This idea of contacting spirits in another dimension is nothing new to me. Nothing new at all, its been happening to grandpa for years. I only started to accept it, because of not knowing how to control the pictures. For years, the ultimate channeling would be to know how to get these souls to come back on my terms. Prior to their deaths, a collection of souls were contacting them. To some how invite them in as to warn them their own fate would be knocking on the door one day. The mystery is, never being chilled to the bone in fear, not even a tremble in their presence. Its the weird part, because the thinking would be, a person would be scared to death. Its not the way they come to you though. Telling their story keeps the fear away at first, and draws you into their past life with curiosity.  A collection of other souls to confer with follows with other strangers waiting in the background. As if listening, and just watching like guardian angels. It seems where all the comfort came from all along. To meet up with them in the after life, as friends and sending the message; they know more than I do right now.

       Grandpa believes he has had many past lives, and these strangers have also been there before. In most of the recollection through dreams. Grandpa seen his first life as an Egyptian laborer, which became a king of royalty. Being murdered because of the fact his past was as a slave, and not in the eyes of their peers a true leader. I remember the feeling of being all alone before being assassinated by soldiers swords. Shortly afterwards, grandpa recalled a dream in time from a second life. I was living along the inside of cave dwellings, settled at the grand canyon as a native indian. We lived in seclusion away from other hostile tribes. I was riding a donkey along a trail, when the rocks gave way, and falling to my death. An accident, which was unavoidable, because there were other riders coming from the opposite direction. My third life I was a wealthy billionaire living the life of an eccentric. Dying in a mental institution, my crazy family stole all my money out from under me by their sick greed, and left me penniless. I died from alcoholism, a horrible death. Its not clear to me how I made the fortune, but believe it was an inheritance passed down by wealthy oil refiners going back years before being born into that life. Being a crazy rich person, people loathed me. Now I am sure the next three lives will come to me eventually. For right now, they haven't been revealed to me yet. Grandpa is sure at last, this time, this one will last until the ripe old age of ninety three though. Grandpa is living a fine life, and now spends his time as a novice, and aspiring short story writer. My activities I have had in past lives, have inspired me to tell my story. At the age of six, grandpa had a close encounter with a UFO. Early on in life, I believe one day would come, which grandpa would achieve greatness in this life time. A secret passion to harness energy for telekinesis. Levitating objects, including myself, bending metals, and my ultimate goal. Making water float in midair, defying gravity for the world to see. Keeping contact with spirits which have been tracked in my old lives through my dreams mostly. Grandpa has concepts beyond even my own belief, and defy any other, and drawing on my own conclusions on all we know from modern scientists, and anthropology doing work around the world. I find my own connections watching them prove existence of other possible life on other planets, and having spent past lives around the globe. For me is a new awakening, and clues into my next future. I call myself grandpa because there are no other ways to describe myself now. Its the future calling me, pulling me closer to my end time.

      How to shape up the gathering of spirits was at first perceived as imagination. It always happened almost exactly on time, and before hand to great detail. The people, and chain of events some times happened the same time of day, or night while dreaming. Through it all, the visions kept coming like always, but began being clearer and there was nothing to fear at first. People never remembered me telling them what will be happening shortly, it as if they were mesmerized during me saying what was about to happen. Afterward, thinking back, it was exhausting and remember having headaches right after an episode. Later on I used a select few to say to them, what would follow in a few moments. When it did, they never mentioned just being told about an event, or an episode was coming which I just mentioned it will. It always happened almost exactly on time, and to great detail. Describing the people involved, a chain of events leading up to it, and sometimes the time and day over, and over. I got nothing from the observers recalling being told. Amazed by this, and after a while I gave up trying to convince people what they were about to see. I kept this to myself for many years after not being hailed as having ESO. Took up watching my visions work for myself, and the events develop for my own eyes to see. The curious thing is they usually are involving more and more dramatic events played out, rather than pleasant things. For reasons which I could never figure out, other than their more dramatic, as if I needed to use my gift as a warning to people. That is where I believe those headaches were coming from, and giving it up was not easy. There was less strain on my mind afterward. I wanted to try and capture positive energies for better things going on. The drama prevails though. Maybe that is why I rather  live alone. People can't live without drama, its a sickness.

     The future is gong to be brighter for me soon. The end is near, but after being through so many lives. Never fearing death, its the living which can be the scary part once in a while. No problems is never an option. I'll continue on and try not to mention the power of the universe, or my past lives to anyone anymore. There were people who, too many times thought I was talking nutty. At least I know the truth on what goes on. There is a thin veil between this dimension, and the after life. Breaking through comes by way of dreams as a protective system. I can explain it in only one way. If we were to be in a head on car collision, and instant death was coming. Our soul shuts down, so we will not feel the horrific fear, and pain before leaving our body. Our own soul knows it does not want to enter the veil with pain and despair to carry-over through with it. I  don't know how other to explain all the real mysteries of life, and our hidden powers of energy. Its gong to remain a mystery to most, and taken to our end with us to find out the truth. I have only begun, my mystery will unfold eventually. There has been too many clues handed to me over the years not to keep on searching. The end in nearing, and Grandpa C. Corn Knew 1960 Till 2053 When. After all, who is to say. Who knows what is in the mind of a madman.

                              End of Story    'Be immune to rumor'     Jimmy Nuzz

             End of the line wait for all of us who dread it the most.

Author's Note

Quirky, and having fun with this one. Calm as dishwater, my views on the edge of writing. Fun, fun, fun, JN.

Reviews

[james nuzzello]

I was surprised I even finished this short story. I wrote it one day while living homeless on the city green after sleeping on the ground for three days. I had a bottle of Fortisimo wine, and that's were this idea came to me, but nit until the next day while I was sitting on a comfortable park bench.