posted on Jul, 24 2008 @ 04:54 PM
First, a little something you need to know to understand what little I wrote here. 1st, my brother, the one I speak of below, died 4 years ago. The
last time I visited with him was a day or 2 after he had died. I grew up with the paranormal happening in my life and never thought of it a
un-natural or un-normal in any way.
I thought I'd just throw this out there without any real explination and see what comes to mind as you read it. See another point of view - more
insight. It was not a dream - it was "one of those things" that stick with me, that seem special in some way. It's important. And I gain more
information when I talk about it and write about it, re-read it later. Hope you don't mind my using this forum to kind of dive into trying to get
more out of this experience.
Here we go, this is what happened.
july 21 or 22 - 2008 I wanted to think about the road on which I last saw my brother. The place we visited. I wanted to see it as clearly as I
could, see myself standing there and looking off in the direction that he had come from when we visited, in the direction that he went when I saw him
leave. I wanted to stand and gaze at the spot we last were, just be there, be quite, listen, look, be hopeful - maybe I'd see him, maybe he'd know
I was there waiting and hoping to visit again. Maybe. But as I lay down, close my eyes and had not yet begun to try to conjure this memory -
another road appeared before me. I wander if my brother had been here. I wonder, if he was here, when he stood at the T in the road, which way did
he go? I wonder, maybe he went to the place that is but temerperary, to later travel the mysterious road that I saw before me. I wonder if he has
already traveled on ahead on that raod now. Maybe once we leave that little 'everything you need' place in the road with the and the wise man,
maybe once a person advances ahead on that road - maybe that's .... Not the end for that person, but the end of our knowing of their
travels. The end of our knowing... they go on, but we will not know what is down the road they travel until we travel that road. I wonder if all
who travel that road end up in the same place? I know there are no turns to be taken, I know that the road is strait and narrow and not well
traveled. I don't think think there is much on the way to be seen, but I don't know where 'the way' leads to.
The road is long and there is one road that T's off to the left.
All who travel this way come from one direction - all come from the same way. Not a road often traveled. Seems like many come this way, but at the
same time, that 'many' is also only a few, - far between - one here and one there. Maybe 2 come together sometimes? A couple every now and
again? The road is a single lane. It tavels stait ahead and along the way, you come to a spot in which if you were to stop, on your right side would
be a little service station / house / something place. On your left would be another road just like the one your on, only this one goes somewhere...
if you were to turn left instead of going strait - you would end up at a place. It would have what you need there - it would be temperary - not
permenent. If you went there, I guess you would at some point have to come back and go down the road that you are on now, a one way road - strait
There is nothing scarry or strange about the place that is down the road to the left. Although you can't see it, you just know it wouldn't be
fantasitc or unfarmiliar or anything spectacular or anything noteworthy - it's nothing bad, maybe it's even a bit nastalgic? Only that it is just
'for a moment'.... just for a while - not permenent. And you know that if you were to go on the road to the left, you would indeed end up at a
destination of some sort. To go strait ahead, I wonder if there is a particular destination, or even a destination at all? Maybe it is just a road -
a journey? But such that you can't come back from or change your mind about.
When you get to this place in the road, EVERYONE stops at the little place with the man who is there waiting. He is always waiting, as if he knows
to expect you. But it must be decades or longer that he has waited for a person to come, maybe expected you and knew when you'd come? Somehow I
think it must be decades or more between people that come this way - but I also wonder if it is actualy very frequent, but that for me, at that time,
it is like this - unique, special and infrequent.
The man is patient and so relaxed and seems to be happy. He is very aged but not old. He is not overwieght nor underwieght, he is not short, but
not real tall. He is not fair, but not very tanned. He is 'able' for his many years - aged but not old. It's as if, if I had been here 20 years
ago, he would be as he is this moment. And if I'd come 50 years from now, he'd still be as he is this moment. He can take care of everything, he
is self suffitient. Everything he needs he has, anything that needs to be done he can do. He is there because you will stop and ask him a question.
You will ask him where the road in front of you leads. You will want to know what is along the road ahead or what is at it's end. He answers as if
he gives a complete answer - as if all the questions are answered in his answer. His answer is, "Nobody knows". You'll wonder why nobody knows,
and the answer is that "No one that has went that way has ever come back."
The man doesn't seem to need to know more - he seems to understand or be ok with this answer - as if that is the answer we are suppose to have.
I am in awe of the road - a wonderous thing, more than mysterious - so special and wonderous. Earlier I had wondered how he could stay here in this
one little place with no other people, seemingly nothing to do but to wait for the next passer by to answer th question - but I stood looking down the
road in front of me - and I realized I could be content for a long long time to just sit and ponder this road, to be near it, to look at it, to touch
it, to think about it. But the man wasn't concerned with these things. He didn't spend his time wondering about the road or looking at it. He
just was. He was peaceful with the road. He was ok with it being what it was and not knowing. He was. The road was. What ever lie ahead - was.
The house / old servise station
Some how this little building was like an old abandoned service station from long long ago - but not abandond and not in disrepair. It wasn't fancy
and newly painted - it was like the man - very aged yet not falling apart, not 'old', not crumbling. The paint it wore from so very long ago of
years ago clung to the building without peeling. But it didn't look fresh - it wasn't supose to. It was homey, it was just perfect for what it
Somehow I thought it wasn't big enough to be a home. It wasn't big enough to contain the things of a service station or a store or gas station.
But I also knew that it had everything a passerby would need. This is like 'the last stop' on a long trip. The place everyone stops for all they
need for their journy. There you will find everything you'll need.
But in getting the answer from the man - that no one knew what was down the road in front of you, that no one knew, because no one had ever came
back once they went down that road --- THAT information was all that was needed for the journy - it's as if that information was what that little
place, and that man was there for, it was all it contained - it was all I needed. Just now, as I right this, I though - I wonder if everyones needs
from here are different? While I was actualy there, I felt as if all people that pass by want from him the same thing that I wanted - to know what
was ahead. As if he was there, this place was there for one reason - so that people could stop and ask. But now I wonder - do different people have
different needs? Was this place there just for me? Did it just exist for some of the people that traveled this road? Did the road and the seenery
change for the people that traveled it? Was this place invisable or nonexistant for some?
It simply is what it is. The wise man is just as he is. The road and the destinations are what they are. Everything simply is as it is. It is the
unknowing the brings me such wonderings, such thoughfulness. More than just couriosity, something ... special isn't the word ... there isn't a word
really, but the road that continues strait ahead - somehow I don't think of it 'ending'. I don't think of a particular destination up ahead. I
don't think the human mind can compreheand many things, therefore we are left with an uncertain void that causes us to pause for an undertermaned
mount of time - a pause that will continue to come to us here and there - bring us back to this pondering, this thoughtfullness, this unknown that is
somehow known although its a 'knowing' that we can't put into words nor thought. It's simply something inside us that glimpses the tinyiest bit
of understanding and our minds are unable to understand or preceive the greatness or vastness of it.
[edit on 7-24-2008 by AngelaLadyS]