Thinkers Island a utopia like Atlantis is born

“Do you communicate with spirits?”

These other worlds or dimensions where they live may be as dangerous as the physical world you live in. 

 In these worlds, one can encounter beings of light with compassion and understanding, but you can also meet beings of darkness that function in arrogance and greed. To communicate with one of them, there must be a connection between their world and ours, and this can be very dangerous unless you’re sure who you are connecting with, and who its friends are.”

“Why is it dangerous if all you’re doing is communicating with a spirit? They can’t actually hurt you, can they?”

Some of these spirits have malicious intentions and the power to overwhelm and enslave you. So if you enter any of these worlds, you must go directly to a link, or be prepared to face beings that will attack you and devour your consciousness, which is worse than physically hurting your body.”

“Have many people lost their minds to these beings?”

“Yes, in the world you come from there are many, and they’re not all confined in institutions as you might think; most of them are going about freely, like marionettes with all their strings being pulled. Some of them hold very high positions in their society. That’s why here on the island we don’t connect with the other worlds anymore.”

***

“These are the sacrificial grounds, a place where they can be attracted to come to our world,” she said as she showed me around. “All the different altars and objects that you see were carefully selected to entice a particular spirit.” She led me to an oddly proportioned stone, about three feet wide by eight feet long, and no more than six inches thick, lying flat across four large round rocks.

“This is the place where offerings are made to the spirits in the farthest worlds,” she said, showing me around the stone.

“Don’t spirits just come from the spirit world?”

“No, it’s not that simple at all. You’ll understand it better after we make love, as you call it.” She led me up to the stone slab.

Her voice intoxicated me when she said the word love, and I was completely immersed. My hands gently explored her thighs as she held me against her firm and warm breasts, softly caressing me with such sensuality that I completely let go of all my thoughts and melded with her.

The sexual energy was so intense that it triggered images, and I found myself experiencing another reality.

From atop this flat stone, looking out at the sacrificial grounds, I could now see a number of altars adorned with food, drink, and objects as unique as the large groups of people surrounding them. Those at the altar directly in front of me were fishermen with their families. The women had spread large baskets of food and drink out on blankets. The men played drums and flutes to a pulsing beat, which, combined with the thick smell of incense, drove everyone to dance.

From one of the large baskets a leatherback turtle was released, and the groups all approached it and adored it, some petting it, some kissing it, some just talking kindly to it. A small gourd filled with liquid was placed before the turtle, which immediately took to it and after a few licks, was out cold. The drumbeat and dancing intensified as the cloud of incense increased around the altar. The group chanted the name Adawa over and over, as one of the older fishermen sacrificed the turtle, allowing its blood to run down to a gourd placed in front of this altar.

From then on, I noticed a man appearing momentarily at the edge of my peripheral vision, to my right. When I turned to focus he would disappear, and a voice inside told me not to focus, but to observe as much as possible from my peripheral vision.

He was a stubby, round, short man attracted by the turtle’s sacrifice. From the way he moved to the beat, I could tell he was pleased with the music. He inhaled the thick aroma of the turtle’s blood and seemed to savor it. I realized then that this was Adawa, a powerful being from another realm, and that this ceremony was to attract him. Although no one could see him, they knew he would reward them with full nets of fish in the morning.

All the ceremonies were different, and not all offered blood. At the other end of the grounds, at another altar, a group sat praying, encircling a sad young boy in a crouched position. Bowls of food, coconuts split in half, and all types of other fruit were presented as offerings. The worshippers burned soft aromatic incense that filled the air as they repeated a prayer and the name Liatos, all in unison. The combination of the words and the different tonalities created a harmonic resonance that echoed into this other world, one that I could glimpse with my peripheral vision.

A woman with short, red hair and long, skinny legs appeared, drawn in by this unique sound, and I quickly looked away from the group. Keeping the activity in my peripheral vision allowed me to distinguish the events without looking. They couldn’t see her, yet she was aware of them and enjoyed the incense and the effect of the sounds they were creating. She approached the young man in the center and with both hands, one on top of the other, and applied pressure, starting from the back of his neck, then down along his spinal column, repeating this three times. The boy sat up straight with a huge, bewildered grin on his face, unaware that this woman from another dimension was massaging his back.

I don’t remember how long Ann and I made love on that stone, or how many other visions I had, but from then on I would never be the same. I realized that my consciousness was now greater than it had been before. I understood the concepts that were presented to me earlier, and that I was ecstatic, and absolutely in love.


Excerpt from Thinkers Island