~~Who's With Us?~~

[AkashicWreckage]

Last night, my Beach Buddy and I played one of our tried and true Favorite Games.
It's called: Who's With Us?

Sometimes, we play it in the living room, or, other times we play it on the terrace.
The scene goes something like this:
We're hanging around, talking or not talking, there's a certain quality in the air.
My Beach Buddy will get this pensive look to his face, especially his profile, as he blows Black Cherry or Vanilla scented cigarillo smoke, suggestively into the air above his head.
I'll catch him stealing a glance my way.
And, who can blame him?

Actually, this version of the game can only be done on the terrace, because there's no smoking in my apartment.
Anyway, I'm almost old enough to be his mother---and----- we live in this place that's billed as a retirement area.

I didn't choose to live here for the amenities---
Like a bus that runs the old people back and forth to their daily list of doctor's offices---
Then the bus takes them to the Bagel Place--- and to the Dollar Store---
Off to the Jewish Center---back to another doctor---a quick visit to Dunkin Donuts, and finally, to CVS to pick up the new prescriptions----
It also has a 50's club, that's basically not a club because there aren't any mid 50's kinda people who want to hang out with each other and play Bingo.
A sixties club that's active, the 70's club is even more exciting and the 80's club has a few select members who keep it going.

I also didn't choose this place for the panoramic views either.
It's a sterile, cookie cutter like series of boxes---perfect for the aging, older folks---who longed for the old neighborhood-like environment when they retired.
I didn't choose it for the hot fun at the pool either.
Besides, it just ain't fun to go there when I see a woman walking, swear to God---with a pool noodle flung casually over her shoulder.
She's wearing a bright orange shapeless shift, matching orthopedic flip flops and some kind of weird hat, perched jauntily on her head---and it doesn't match anything else that she's wearing.
Or the guy, pushing his walker, with the skimpiest swim trunks around---and his oxygen tank holder dragging down the right side of his body.
Sorry, that's just not my scene...

There are a few younger folk here, like the guy across from me.
I think he's only 2 or 3 years older than I am, and he seemed to have a spark of life in him when I first moved in.
Then, he had to have surgery on his knees---and--- now---
He's begun to get that---deer in the headlights look----in his eyes---
That vacant--- there's lights on but no one's home look---and he does that little step shuffle, that so many old people do.
He's not even 60, so he's off my list of possible playmates.

Besides that, he has no couth.
One night last year, we had our windows open and the jalousies on the front door were open too.
We're sitting, my beach buddy and I, in the living room, both of us on our lap tops.
We hear Vince shuffling towards his unit, the door is maybe 3 feet from my door.
The door barely closes when we hear something.
A disturbingly familiar noise, that had a tone and texture to it that caused us both to stand up.
It was probably one of THE longest, crunchiest, bellowing farts that I think I've EVER heard in my entire life.

I begin to panic. I knew that I was going to lose it, quickly.
I look at my Beach Buddy and he looks at me---we were both startled, shocked and absolutely blown away by the sound we had heard---
I pinched my nose with my fingers, and put my other hand over my mouth and ran into my bedroom, gesturing my Beach Buddy to follow me.
I closed the bedroom door and began to laugh hysterically.
It was uncontrollable.
It was the kind of laughing that there is NO way to rein it in---it just has to run its course.
Tears ran down my face, my tummy began to hurt from laughing and every time I thought it was safe to return to the living room---
Yep, I would end up in a laughing fit.
It took the better part of an hour to get control of ourselves that night.

Well, that was last year.

I think I chose this place because I could be hidden. I knew it was safe and I knew I wouldn't be bothered unless I wanted to be bothered.
I also felt it was a place where I could relax, where it would be nice and quiet.
It's so quiet, that even the chirping sound of someone setting the alarm for their car---could wake the dead.
I'm sure there are spirits here too.

Back to my Beach Buddy, blowing smoke---
He'll glance my way, knowing that I've caught him glancing my way, and then he'll quickly bark at me---
"Who's with us now?"
I'll close my eyes, expand my energy field out----and see who walks my way.
This is a technique I had learned a couple of years ago.
Sometimes, the person with us is no one either of us knows, and other times, we'll feel that it's someone who needs to get a message to us.
I know my dad's been with us, and sometimes my friend Caren.

Usually, it's my Beach Buddy who gets the question out first, and often---it's at the weirdest moments---
We'll be eating dinner and he'll say, sometimes with a piece of steak in his mouth, "Who's with us?"
I'm---like----thinking to myself---"What the heck? Why now? Why can't he leave me alone to eat in peace?"
But, I'll try to zoom in on who's with us anyway, just to shut him up.

I'll try to catch him off guard, and get the question out when he least expects it---like in the car, on the turnpike---on the way back from work.
He'll be driving along, minding his own business, and I'll bark back at him, "Who's with us, hunh?"
I get a great deal of pleasure watching his profile change and see him get an exasperated look on his face.
He'll say to me, "That's YOUR department!"
I'll say to him, "The hell it is! Who IS with us?"

He rarely answers me.
We've had a few exciting times playing this game.
One time, a close childhood friend of his who had recently passed away, came by for a visit.
He came in clear as could be and it was a touching reminder to us, that those we are close to---never really leave us.

Well, last night we were sitting on the terrace, watching the night sky.
It was weird how clear the sky was, when all day long----there had been chem-trails all over the place.
Webbed lines of chem-trails, criss-crossing the entire sky all around us.
And at one point, there was a weird, halo-like ring around the sun that looked like a rainbow encircling the sun.
No doubt in MY mind, it was from the chemicals being sprayed in the chem-trails.
The news said it was ice crystals. LOL.
No way. The clouds down here where I am, aren't anywhere near that high up, 40,000 feet, to have ice crystals.
It just IS NOT possible.
My cellphone rang just as that was on TV, I saw it was my Beach Buddy, and answered the phone saying, "That's a crock of shi(f)t."
In a quiet voice, he agreed with me.

And, I've never seen that many chem trails overhead like we saw yesterday---
Very heavy, very ominous, followed by dirty black clouds about an hour after the chem-trails were laid.

Anyway, sorry, I digressed there.
So, we're out on the terrace, my Beach Buddy was torturing Bailey by holding him and tickling his stomach.
When we had walked out there to sit, it was a bit on the warm side and a little bit muggy, too.
I think we were talking about the chem-trails, and relieved that we had taken some really good pictures of what was going on in the sky---
When all of a sudden, despite there not being any breeze outside, I felt a distinct very cool breeze, pass by.
This breeze seemed to only be about a foot in height, and it passed right by my shoulders, so maybe it was about 3 feet from the floor of the terrace.
It seemed to be only about 4 feet in length.
I know this is a strange way to describe a breeze, but it was just like what I have described it to be---it WAS unusual.
This happened 2 or 3 times, and I asked my Beach Buddy if he felt it, and he said he had.
I'm telling you, it was WEIRD!
I have never felt anything like that before. The palm trees were still, no palm fronds moving---

And without any warning, he says to me, out of the blue, "Who's with us?"
I tossed the question back at him, "You tell me. Who is with us?"
My Beach Buddy begins to describe someone---and at the same time, suddenly, I'm seeing someone with us.
Beach Buddy states matter-of-fact-like, "He's knowledgeable in the area of the occult arts. He understands it and has made it a point to learn as much as he can about it. He's one of THEM."
Or something like that, I can't recall exactly.
I ask my Beach Buddy, "What does he look like?" because I've got someone there too and I wanted to see if it was the same person, coming in to both of us.

Beach Buddy says, "He has a neat, closely trimmed full beard and he's well built."
I was only seeing the face of who was with us, not the body, and I was definitely seeing a beard too, so I asked, "What does his face look like, describe it to me."
He goes on to say, "He's got a long nose, very long nose, but not with any kind of a hook at the end."
With that, I'm---like---thinking to myself, "LOL---no hook on the end of the nose---what's that about?"
I was seeing someone with a long nose, but it was a finely chiseled nose and it fit the face I was seeing.
I ask, "What color hair does he have?"
Beach Buddy, "Black, and he has a very long face."
I'm not seeing a long face, but rather an ovalish, roundish shaped face, but I had someone with black hair too.
His hair was straight, with a part on the left side.
I say, "What color eyes does he have?"
The answer comes back, "Blue eyes."
And I'm seeing someone with dark brown eyes.

Beach Buddy goes on to say, "He's deliberately made himself very aware of the metaphysical stuff."
I say, "Yes, because he's infiltrated various spiritual communities, many of them have, so that they can keep up with what we're all doing."
Beach Buddy states, "He's one of the group of Them."
I say, "Yes, he is, indeed he is."

Beach Buddy begins to talk about all of the pieces and parts that are coming together with the events of the world.
The two major parts are the unprecedented day of aerosol spraying, like neither of us had ever seen before---so strong, or so remarkable, that the local news ran a story about the ring around the sun.
It was dismissed as ice crystals at 40,000 feet, and we both agreed that this just was an out and out lie.
So we have an aerial assault that definitely affects respiratory systems and then a near pandemic level virus which attacks respiratory systems.
What are the chances?

Beach Buddy said, "He was one of Them but part of his deal is that he leaks plans of things to come to certain Light-workers."
"Why does he do that?" I asked.
"It's a means to try to alleviate his conscience, it's part of his deal with darkness." Beach Buddy calmly explained to me.
It was weird that my Beach Buddy had experienced something earlier---a puff of cold air when he had walked outside down on South Beach.
He thought, at the moment that happened, that he should not be feeling a very cold blast of air hit him, when he was outside on balmy South Beach.

With that, Bailey distracted us by jumping down off of Beach Buddy and he started sniffing around the perimeter of the terrace.
He was trying to snack on bugs, I'm sure.
So, we all went back inside.

What is this about?
We know that Spirit is always with us---other characters drop in at will---but the feeling of protection remains.
There certainly is a whole lot of distraction, because the ante has been upped.
The stakes are high---many people are awakening, more are aware of the battle being played out, for the world to witness.
And, again, while I'm so very aware of the love, peace, joy and protection that is truly the center point of the experiences---
I understand that the fear game must continue to swirl around us.

My Beach Buddy/The Them Expert, has left to go get us bagels---
I'll wait and bide my time after he gets back home.
We'll both play with Bailey, who is now wearing his welcome thin---he woke me this morning at 7:30am...
His bone pieces have been painful when stepped on, he demands my constant attention.
The other morning he woke me, barking at a piece of paper that was moving in the breeze on my dresser.
Thankfully, Bailey's barking was his tool to protect me from that terrifying piece of paper.
And, he's smelling like a dog.

So, anyway, I'm watching and waiting now, for that perfect moment.
First, I am lighting some incense, and when I'm done with that, I begin to sage the corners of the entire condo.
I have some Arch-Angel Michael spray, that has been somehow Reikied and filled with the intention of protection---
I'm now spraying some of that around too. My timing is impeccable, and now I am waiting for the numbers on the clock to get to 5:23pm.
I'm looking at my Beach Buddy and I'm now saying:

"Who's with us?"

He looks over at me and he gets up off the couch and begins to walk towards the kitchen.
I repeat, "Who's with us?"
He cocks his head to the side, then looks me dead in the eye and says,
"It's one of the neighbors. He's standing right outside talking on his cell phone."

That ought to set the stage for an amazing Saturday evening in Old Farts Heaven.