RE-LEARNING BASIC HOLOGRAM
I bet you’re wondering how my flight was. Me too. The only one who could make a comment on it has obviously been sworn to secrecy. St. James’ lips are sealed.
I can’t understand why this keeps happening. Why can’t I know what’s going on? Am I a security risk? I can see why a dog would be safer. Dogs are not usually considered reliable witnesses, so they are unlikely to be interrogated, interviewed or quoted. That’s how they get away with all the things they do, like eavesdrop on every thought that goes through your brain and intercept telepathic communications like they are fetching frisbees. I have to admit, their cover is impeccable. No better undercover agent is possible, except maybe a cat.
I decided to just drop all my questions and get to work instead. I really wasn’t getting anywhere with my questions anyway. One thing I was certain of was that I did go somewhere at night, repeatedly. I knew that because I would often wake up laughing without a clue as to what was so funny. The reason would not reveal itself until I started writing. Then I knew what was so funny. This brings me to the point of explaining the mechanics of how this communication I was embroiled in was constructed.
As previously explained, I was fluent in telepathy from the start, so that was no problem. I could easily converse that way with St. James and my newly acquired roommates. However, I soon realized that telepathy was not the language with which they transferred information to me at night. They spoke to me in their native tongueless language, which appeared to be Hologram, of which I suspected telepathy was a just a derivative dialect.
I didn’t get it at first because I understood what was being said without considering how or why. Only in observing the process did I realize that it actually was not telepathy they were using to communicate with me. It was more like an encapsulated code. I then had to unpack it, decode it and translate it into some usable language, which in my case was English, the language I spoke. It was like being handed a zip file that was at its core holographically whole. I don’t know if I can explain this process better than that, nor can I explain how I understood Hologram in the first place, and as well as I did. However, this did explain how I could wake up laughing and not yet know what I was laughing about. The data entered my consciousness in its entirety, and I didn’t know the reason for my laughter until I disassembled and then reassembled the information into its individual linguistic parts.
When I thought back at my excruciating introduction to Planet Earth, land of the linguistic liars, I remembered my difficulty in acquiring language skills due to the serial culture shocks I sustained as I stumbled over this issue. Now I realize that this uncomfortable introductory experience may have been necessary in order for me to become the hololinguistic translator that I did in fact become. Gosh, finally I got an answer to a question, although it was a question I never thought to ask.
Now that I think about all of this further, maybe I should have agreed to becoming a channel. It might have been considerably less work. I would like to point out that I am excellent at filing documents.
Continue to the next exciting adventure of – I Will Blend No More Forever – Part XIV