In a Vulture's Shadow

Snapping my Dream Journal shut hard with his hand, he shot me a defeated but vengeful glance, then looked away with a long, annoyed sigh. I knew he had conceded to my argument and his conditions, concessions I am confident he never thought he'd have to make, were about to follow. I've kept a dream journal for decades, and from 1999 to 2004, my dreams were preoccupied with Global Cataclysms, Large-scale UFO events speaking with Crystal Skulls, and what had become the Nahali, or Toltec Tradition.  In one dream entry, in particular, a lucid dream, I detailed my delivering the soul of recently passed-over Carlos Castaneda out of captivity, freeing him from the clutches of "inorganic beings." In our escape from the penumbral labyrinth, I was almost captured. Carlos Castaneda returned the favor, and together, we watched each other's backs as we opened doorways to our proper and respective abodes. Before he left, Carlos told me.  "My line is broken, my unit failed, ...

The stories of the sorcerer Don Juan had carried me this far. I set the spirit of his apprentice free, helping him escape the inorganic beings. Within the tale, there was truth, no matter how small or skewed. I would enter the non-ordinary reality or die trying.  When the desert grew its darkest and I was sure death stalked me, the world exploded with color, and fear fell to its knees before me.  -Kevin Wikse.