NDEs, Songs & Poems, Garbled Nonsense.

I am one of those people who have had what is commonly referred to as an NDE (Near Death Experience) and though I have not yet come to terms with the best way to present this in a public forum, or whether it is even right to do so, I have determined that this is the night in which I will at least make a start, but keep it simple and even a bit fun at first, if such is possible.

I was smoking a bit of weed in those days (might as well admit that off the bat) and there will be those who might tend to try to "blame" my strange experiences right around the time of my grandmother's death in September of '07 on that ubiquitous yet illegal herb, but it never did anything to me before (or after, though I rarely smoke it these days, perhaps once a year) than give me the usual pleasant mild buzz and lust for junk food.

Right before I had these experiences, I had lost two good jobs in a row due to failed drug tests; one as a payroll clerk, and the other as a temp in the admin department of a GMAC collections center. At that time in early September 2007, I also was hired as a payroll clerk for Food Lion, but failed that drug test as well. This is a thread for honesty, and I have come a long way since then in determining that, though the stuff is mainly harmless, it doesn't exactly work wonders in today's legal atmosphere towards getting or holding down jobs.

When I failed that Food Lion drug test, I was really depressed, and went on a real bender. Drank at least a fifth of whiskey on top of beer. I went to take a piss, and after this routine operation, had a bit of an accident while flushing the toilet, and actually fell into the shower, striking my spine on the faucet, and woke up in the bathtub/shower a few hours later I guess, with a dreadful hangover and very painful injury to about the middle of my spine. I did what anyone would do at that point, and went to bed.

I awoke in the middle of the night, or it was a lucid dream (ok, I myself think this and the following was no dream, but it is hard to actually prove these things to others). To this point, I have never gone beyond cryptic hints at what followed to any person in the world except for my brother Tyler, who is almost like a soul mate to me, until now; and after much thought, have chosen LOP to be the place to begin to go beyond such cryptic hints.

When I awoke, I was "drawn" to go outside my apartment, to the sort of cheap-apartment "patio" out there, and was met by three very human-looking figures, and they seemed, so far as I can remember, to have been clad in simple (not dramatic or flowing!) robes, and they just looked like three very ordinary young men. They greeted me with the following statement, which nearly five years later, I have still not quite figured out. Keep in mind that my memories of this whole episode, or really series of episodes, are a bit garbled and unclear in my mind, whether this is just due to the imperfection of human memory, or rather, as I myself tend to think, it is by design.

You see, I don't think we are meant to see and learn such things as I did, and come back from the other side with the perfect means to relate such experiences to others. Oh yes, though; the words the "spokesman" of the three people or entities said I do remember perfectly, and here they are:

"You have been brought along as a mitigating agent for vice, with the capacity for direct action."

There was more, and they seemed to be giving me a choice between returning to life or not. There were hints at reincarnation, and I am still not convinced one way or the other about the truth or untruth of this theory, especially as the "past lives" they told me of were impossible to have lived, as two of these lifetimes overlapped. Seems I was Mozart, J.W.V. Goethe, the great German poet (those two lifetimes overlapped), and Adolf Hitler. Of course, I don't believe this part of the whole episode, but the leader of the three did actually say it. I think now that this was a way of getting me to think about certain conflicting elements of my personality or soul, and that even if reincarnation is true, I was more likely some schmoe or schmuck, or average Joe.

Anyway, I seem to have made the choice to return to this dimension or lifetime, but there was a catch: I would have to deal with certain negative "karma" that needed to be worked out, and there would also be some sort of semi-unpleasant process to go through to make this possible. They told me to go back into my apartment, and "wait for the singularity." I think at that point, I went back to bed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened (see, for those who have successfully made it thus far through this "text wall," I told you I would try to present it in as fun a way as such a profound experience could possibly be presented; yes, that's it. After this supernatural experience, I simply went back to bed!)

Next day, early afternoon (of course I slept late), my at-the-time pot connection showed up. He was a stupid, early 20s "kid" (for those who might have seen the post, the guy who once accidentally got super-hot sauce in his nose and eyes, and who I about died laughing about later, remembering his frantic attempts to wash it out). I think I was paying him for some bud (and it was most definitely not "Bud Light"), when he all of a sudden said "Robert, you look weird," while staring at me with a look of what seemed to be a mixture of fear and wonder. All of a sudden, he vanished, and a strange, glowing sphere of light appeared (yes, I know "that's what they all say") and I went through it.

I was met by a much more mysterious figure (still human-looking, though I could not make out his face) who gave me greetings, but these were not in words, but more like thoughts, instantly understood, but hard to relate in words. I will leave some stuff out here, since this is becoming a novel rather rapidly, but I think I was given a life review. I'm pretty sure this "fellow" was not God or Christ, but I'm also sure he wasn't from around these parts, know what I mean, Vern?

When I returned, or was returned to my apartment, I seemed to have had to go through some sort of polarity-reversal process (only way I know to describe it) and the last thing I was told was to begin writing down my thoughts. These led to a failed attempt at writing a book called The Gospel of God's Pet Rat, but I don't now think they really wanted me to write a book, just get down some thoughts so that I did not completely forget my experiences.

Here's where it gets weirder, if that is even possible. I wrote down the first page of my "book" at white heat, a page which I will post an image of. The strange part is, that after I wrote down that page, in my awful handwriting, I happened to look at my right arm. The hairs on my arm had somehow electrically aligned themselves into words from the opening paragraph of my "book," in such a way that they were completely legible! By this point, though I have never in my life been Schizophrenic or heard voices in my head (except for musical ones, being a classically-trained composer), I asked "what the hell is going on here?" and the reply I got was "those are your words; they will stay with you until your "book" is written." By now, I of course know that "book" is not a book I was supposed to write, but a metaphor for my lifetime. I had either nearly died from that alcohol-induced accident involving falling into the shower, or actually died and was brought back, by my own request. You see, I'm like a lot of you; I want to see if anything interesting happens in 2012 or soon after, and also felt it was not the time to say goodbye to my family. One thing that still scares me: right before my return, "they" said "the people you return to will be just like the people you remembered from your old life, but you will eventually catch up with the Singularity."

Funny thing is, while all this was happening, my 93 year old grandmother (mom's mom) was in the process of dying, and one of the last things she said was that she had gone through a light and met the spirits of two of her dead sons, and late husband...

I then proceeded to stay up for three days almost straight, all the time seeming to be communicating in my head with spirit or "guide" voices, and began to try to collect my thoughts. One of the first things I did was to contact my brother, and let him know my initial thoughts. I'm almost done for now, though there is so much more, and if I could remember everything, so much more than even that. I had begun writing some basic thoughts down, and trying to make connections between some of the concepts I had been so strangely and suddenly introduced to. In a moment of relative frivolity, I wrote a brief poem about one of my first experiences with '___', in 1994 or so. I haven't messed with that stuff since then, and wasn't doing anything more out of the ordinary than weed or alcohol in 2007 when this whole NDE-thing happened.

I wrote the poem is two parts: the opening was relating the brief poetic effort to some clever and inventive internal and end-rhymes on the vowel "I" in a song my brother Tyler, a talented guitarist and songwriter (though too involved in a Biology career to pursue music professionally) had just written, called Violet Bean. I'll end this beginning to my story (and I do realize it is a long beginning indeed) by posting first the lyrics to my brother's song, then my little poem about '___', then the first page of my "book" (the words that inexplicably presented themselves in some sort of interaction with my magnetic field or perhaps Chi on my arm and later even chest and belly hair!) and then the strangest thing of all, the strange doodlings and little proverbs I started writing on the inside cover of a notebook while preparing to write my "book," The Gospel of God's Pet Rat, a highly-flawed effort which reached 120 typed pages before I abandoned it. I still have the initial sketchbook, and there are interesting things in there that I could also post, if this thread generates any interest. You see, one of the things I started thinking about is that to God, this human experiment on Earth might be similar to how I see the rodent pets I have always loved to keep from the time I was a child, even up to now, as a 43 year old man. My present rat, Yoda, is now dozing peacefully in his cage after a nice meal of leftover steak and rodent mix! (Well, by this point, he's actually gone back to munching on that rodent mix!)

God to man is as man is to (domesticated, not wild) rat: pet rats are loveable, intelligent, interactive, full of vices like overeating, chewing things up, and stealing cigarettes and guitar picks (in Yoda's case), and sometimes, they can also be "bad." Pets can sometimes be exasperating, and God, though I do not know his nature, but have something of the Deist in me, and feel "him" (he probably has no "body" as we understand it) to be rather a hands-off manager, must feel pretty discouraged sometimes at our behavior towards each other and at our destruction of this beautiful earth. I'm sure there are some Dr. Who fans here. If anything, God is a "Timelord." The "Singularity" is the moment of the "big bang," a moment in which all future time in this universe of light was contained, and God, having organized that big bang, is the entity for whom all time exists as a single moment, since he is viewing it from the highest possible dimension (I got part of that from Cayce, just to give credit where credit is due, in the wording at least, but also received the knowledge independently through my experience).

I don't know where this confession I have finally chosen to make will lead. I'll probably be called a kook by some, some will blame it on the cannabis and alcohol, some will be fascinated, probably. I still don't understand it myself, but as the opening sentence of my book quite simply proclaimed:

"Even a little rat does his best to understand."
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At the moment before the big bang, all time and space was condensed into a single "particle;" the Singularity. Even though time seems linear on Earth, all points in spacetime are connected, and we aren't really here at all...

I can't say more than that right now, especially here...

or at least not yet.

I would love to hear more!

I have also had an NDE or OBE, I'm not really sure which because I'm not sure whether I was having a life-threatening situation at the time.

I thank you very much for sharing your story - and your book looks interesting, too!

Here are many NDE stories that are really good if you'd like to take a look: AngelicView NDE Section

I believe it's possible that when you were shown that you were Hitler, etc... (I can't remember who-all), it's possible that it was being shown to you that we've all been people who were "bad" and "good", and people who were artistically inclined and mechanically inclined. We've all been a lot of different personas so-to-speak. And they will all come together as one being (You) in the end, when you're finished with your incarnations here.

I enjoyed your story very much, thank you

AngelicView~

Originally posted by angellicview
I would love to hear more!

I have also had an NDE or OBE, I'm not really sure which because I'm not sure whether I was having a life-threatening situation at the time.

I thank you very much for sharing your story - and your book looks interesting, too!

Here are many NDE stories that are really good

if you'd like to take a look: AngelicView NDE Section

I believe it's possible that when you were shown that you were Hitler, etc... (I can't remember who-all), it's possible that it was being shown to you that we've all been people who were "bad" and "good", and people who were artistically inclined and mechanically inclined. We've all been a lot of different personas so-to-speak. And they will all come together as one being (You) in the end, when you're finished with your incarnations here.

I enjoyed your story very much, thank you

AngelicView~

Gave up on the book-have posted some chapters here and elsewhere before. You see, my "contacts" didn't mean a literal book; the book is my life.

All this really happened, and I am convinced of this even though I believe that I was not allowed to remember everything. I still feel sometimes as though I am in contact with that place, but not in such a direct and literal way.

The book (I got well over a hundred pages done) was to be based on the metaphor man is to God as rat (pet) is to man. Here for a start is one of the animal stories from the book, though it is the most unpleasant one. You see, the NDE was not all flowers and sunshine...



First Animal Dialogue

None answer’d this, but after silence spake
A vessel of a more ungainly make
They sneer at me for leaning all awry;
What! Did the hand then of the potter shake?

(From Kuza-Nama, “Book of Pots,” Rubaiyat
of Omar Khayyam. E. FitzGerald, translator)

Angus stretched out his legs, opened his mouth in a wide gape, and gave a tremendous yawn. He found himself, for the first time since the master had taken him from his friends in the pet store, in a cramped yet comfortable cage. He was in a car, something he knew little about, speeding down the road at a velocity beyond his understanding.
“I wish we would get where we are going. There is very little food in here and I don’t like all this moving around. I don’t feel like eating anyway.”
The master sat in the front seat operating the vehicle. Two white mice were in a smaller cage to his right. Angus wished he was back in the master’s apartment where he was a little lord of sorts. He was familiar with the mice of course, both in their cage and those who came sniffing around his food dish at night, only to be chased away with a lunge and a snap of his teeth. He wondered what the master really thought of the mice-little disgusting things they seemed to him, with their ratty good looks but so small and with none of his aristocratic charm. He knew there had been upon a time many more than just two and wondered what had become of them. Had his master killed them?

You can’t even be
As bad as he
Could be if he
wanted to be!

It was one of Angus’ little verses, which he thought of when he came upon a concept he couldn’t explain to himself in ratthink alone.
“I hope you ugly little mice know where we’re going. You’re up there with him anyway. How’s that cage treating you?”
“I’m just fine,” said the male mouse. “There’s plenty of food and water in here and I don’t want you in here stealing it.”
Angus said nothing at this but simply sat stewing in his larger cage, munching on some rodent mix. He was the master’s favorite anyway, he knew, but he also knew not to be too rough with the little ones. The master seemed to have some kind of fancy for them as well.
“I don’t mind it that much,” said the female mouse. “Before in the big place I could run around and now the man has caught me again. That thing put me right back in the place I took so long to escape from, and it even seems smaller than I remember it. My daddy is so nice to me though and he’s right-there is a lot of food in here!”
Angus said nothing but bristled with distaste at this. He knew that the female’s relationship with her father went far beyond family friendship, and that these arrangements were far from uncommon in the rodent world, but he had never experienced mating and certainly would not have thought of doing it with a female from his own family group. Oh well, he was sure things would work out in the end, as soon as the master and his friends got where they were going.

Everything ties to everything else.
It doesn’t matter:
It’s just the relative importance.
As long as you’re on the right path.

The master had opened up the window of the car to smoke one of his burning sticks, and the acrid smell (which Angus had to admit he sort of liked) and the blowing air had put him in the mood for poetry. What kind of verses would the mice come up with if they had the minds for such intellectual pastimes?

Oh, how shall we think
Of a thing to do?
Sometimes “whatever feels good, do it”
Just might be true!

That was about the best he could come up with. Mice weren’t so bad, and he tolerated their scuttling around at night as they hunted for cockroaches (not Angus’ favorite cuisine) and fouled his water dish.
The car came to a stop and the master stepped outside and closed the door. Angus didn’t mind the cage or the car, but he wished his human friend would take him out and hold him as he had done so many times back in the apartment. He drank some water and listened to the mice running on their wheel. “Why do you keep running so fast on that silly contraption? This thing the human rides in goes fast enough, you can believe that.”
“We always run on the wheel. It’s the only thing to do in here and you know mice always need to run,” said the male mouse.
“Well, I suppose that’s true. If I were your size I’d always be running too. It’s just that the master prefers his friends to lie in his lap and cuddle or just sit quietly sometimes. That’s why he never takes you out.”
The mouse said nothing at this but still kept running. Angus didn’t care. The master had returned with a bag which, Angus could tell from the aroma, most certainly contained food. The master put some pieces of potato (also not his favorite food but welcome enough now) in his cage and that of the mice. The mice sniffed at it and kept on running on the wheel. There was a loud sound and the car was moving again. After a few minutes, Angus began to doze off and finally slumbered blissfully unaware of the vehicle’s motion.
The mice finished running, which was somewhat harder to keep up in a moving car anyway, and ate some potato and drank some of their own water out of the bottle stuck into the side of the cage.
“What do you think he plans to do with us; do you think he’ll toss us outside like my sisters?”
The female mouse still remembered what had happened to her sisters when they had gotten too frisky around her father’s cage. They had been caught by their tails by the master and thrown outside the apartment.
“I don’t know,” said the male mouse. “We are going really fast and I don’t know what’s outside. We could be killed. With the master, all things are possible, even the bad ones! Just enjoy the free food and water while you can. We’ll see what happens later when we get where we’re going.”
The male was a bit cleverer than the female, his daughter, and even knew his name was Henry. He had even been taken out and held on occasion, and the master would let him run around sometimes on the armchair. He always tried to be as sweet as he could and never bit, and had a pretty good idea why his daughter seldom got the same treatment. She had been allowed to run free and bit often after she was finally caught. Henry accepted his cage and even liked it. There was nothing to worry about. He had the feeling that the rat Angus, who could be a bit rude and brusque from time to time, was not a serious threat to mice and was a basically kind sort but he was still a little wary of the mouse-like but gigantic creature. He was even more afraid of the out of doors, a place that not even Angus cared to tread, for he had heard the howls of dogs and the yammering of cats and knew that though he dared not imagine their appearance, neither were creatures a mouse should disturb if at all possible. He also knew that those of his daughters that had been thrown or gotten outdoors might have come to bad ends, but this did not bother him all that much. Mice have large litters and some loss is inevitable. His wife, Eris, he hardly thought of at all. She had had a bad habit of biting him during sex.
After some while the car stopped in front of a large grey house at the end of a narrow road. The master got out and threw the last of the burning sticks he had smoked out of the window. The mice were now sleepy, and were huddled together in the “attic room” of their cage with its shredded toilet paper and tidbits of mouse munchies. Angus was jarred awake as his cage was lifted out of the car and carried into the house. The master was speaking to him in a gentle voice and he could hear his name.

Sweet little Angus, little Rattikins,
Nice little darlin’, pretty Bontchkins!

Angus liked his master’s poetry as well as his own. It was always flattering to him and had a nice ring to it. He tried to come up with an answer to this on his own.

The master knows,
Wherever he goes,
To watch his step,
Or I’ll pee on his toes!

This was as flippant as he liked to get with his master, but he knew he would be forgiven. He didn’t like peeing in the cage because of the smell and the few drops he let go of on the human’s clothing never seemed to fetch more than a surprised but good natured reaction anyway.
Once inside the house, the cage was carried into a small room and placed on a desk. Briefly opening the cage door, the master petted Angus and scratched behind his ears before closing the cage up again. He left the room briefly and returned with the mouse cage, placing it on top of Angus’ cage. Angus was not sure he would be happy with this arrangement but never questioned his master even though he was sure he could get away with just about any request. Maybe the master was a guest in this home-he had seen other humans talking to him and perhaps there was limited space. He would have to make do with the mice for conversation until the master took him out and played with him. “What do you think he is going to do to us? I’m not so sure about this place. There are larger animals here, can’t you smell them?” The female mouse was still nervous and unsure of her surroundings as she had been in the car.
“Just don’t worry about it.” Answered Henry. He has never hurt us before. We have each other and the food and wheel. We are not moving so fast now. Let’s just enjoy life while we can.”
“Yes, enjoy life while you can!” Angus rejoined. “That’s my motto. There is nothing to fear from our master. He likes us little creatures, even you, I’m afraid, though I can’t see why. I just try to let him do his own thing and it works out for the best for all of us that way.”
The master walked back in just as Angus finished speaking. He opened up the cage door and put him on his shoulder, then walked out of the room. Angus liked riding around like this, and this new house was so much bigger! It seemed like a long time before they reached a chair at the other end of the house and sat down. A large dog was panting and sniffing at Angus, and he was a little bit frightened but he could tell the animal was only curious about him. He had heard tell of such creatures in the pet store, but had never met one in the flesh. He knew they were dangerous, but this one knew his master and he was sure he was in no serious peril with the human close by.
“OK, little rat, here we are at mom and dad’s. How do you like your new home? I don’t have much time to hold you right now but I can take you out later.” Angus wasn’t sure what exactly was being said because he didn’t get the entire meaning from human talk. He just knew his master meant well and was speaking kindly.
After a little while, the master got up and Angus was carried back to his cage. The mice were once again running on their wheel. The mouse cage had a sour stink to it, such as he expected from these low creatures. They acted as if nothing had happened despite their earlier words-mice don’t care much about their surroundings as long as they are safe and comfortable. He hoped this location on top of his own new home would not get too smelly to bear. He didn’t speak again but drank some water, passed droppings and picked over some food in the dish on the cage’s upper level.

Oh, these mice,
It must be nice
To have a place
Where they can chase
Their tails around
While up and down
They run! The sound…

Where to go with that? He would rather make up poetry about his master and mouse sounds had haunted him every night he could remember in the last few months living in the old apartment. The sounds in this new place were many and strange, but he had nothing to fear but the soiled shreddings coming out of the mouse cage into his own. He would not mind the cage so much just so long as the master took him out from time to time to be petted. He already, however, missed the freedom of the old place where he could go anywhere he wanted, even the strange freedom right before the move during which the master was absent and Angus didn’t know if he was ever coming back.
“Hey, little Ratty, I haven’t forgotten you! Just go sleepies and I’ll take you back out in a little while.” The master was speaking from the other room. Angus was tired anyway, and since the mice had once again stopped running and were scuttling around looking for tidbits, he did just that. As he dozed off, he could hear three humans talking in their strident, harsh voices. The master always spoke to him in a soft and gentle voice, but he knew these big animals had their own language and it was not at all like rodentspeak. In rodentspeak, only the main concepts were expressed, without so much bluster. Often, meanings were to be had from posture and facial expressions alone. He heard, as he was losing consciousness, his master tapping on some machine in the other room and it lulled him away to blissful slumber.
A rat’s dreams are usually fairly straightforward. They dream of food, of conflicts; those with mates dream not of the sex act but of companionship and the protection of their families which is not so different than the dreams of many humans. Angus dreamed not of this but of mice, and the dream might be more properly termed a nightmare. He imagined that he had been transported to a place even bigger than the new place, which was full of mice. The worst thing was that the mice were all bigger than he was! Angus was in a large container in the middle of the floor, and the mice were all pressing around him against the glass on all sides. They had big gnashing teeth, and the smell was horrible.

Little rat, little rat!
Compared to us, you’re just a gnat!
Mighty small, but oh so fat.
Just wait until you see the cats!

Little cage, little cage!
All about your walls we rage!
We are big and never age.
Cower, as our war we wage!

The mice ran around in a circle as they chanted this war-cry, and Angus really did cower in the corner. The mice’s teeth dripped blood, and he could see that they had fed, perhaps on other crunchy rats, quite recently and this was adding to their ecstasy. The giant mice stopped running and stood silently in a circle around the glass enclosure. A very large and ill-natured fellow, who must have been the leader, stepped forward with three fawning helpers. Angus watched in trepidation as they strode towards his prison and grinned with their blood-red teeth. “Well, little rat, end of the line. We need another sacrifice and we’re hungry again as well. Just cooperate and I promise it will be quick. Let’s just get you out of that cage.”
It was the evil leader who was speaking, and he then made motions to his three henchmen, who shattered the glass in Angus’ corner with sticks held in their hand-like paws. Angus was dragged to a stake implanted in the center of the large chamber. His legs were bound to the stake with cords and the mouse circle drew closer.

From out of the depths of ratty lore
Come the giant mice of yore.
Blood we drink and life we spill,
From necks of little rats we kill!

The mice continued with more verses even more horrible than this, and despite their wicked intent, Angus no longer doubted the poetic talents of the mouse brain, or the sincerity of the lines! The mice had worked themselves up into a frenzy, and several, under the direction of the leader and his three sycophants, came by and pissed and defecated on him as he stood helplessly bound against the stake. This was bad enough, for if he had never liked the smell of mice before, this indignity was so abhorrent to his senses that he could only grimace as the foulness struck him from all sides, trying without success to hold his breath.
The leader spoke again: “Every winter, we gather here to make sacrifice to Eris, our goddess. She died from earth many ages ago when she was sat on by a human-creature. She resides now in the Vales of Night, and looks down upon us at this time to give approval to our offering. Give heed, my mice, give heed as this despicable rat meets his doom! His blood will assuage her anger and atone for our sins against her.” He drew forth a long, evil-looking dagger. Angus squealed in fright and struggled uselessly, twisting and turning to avoid the blade, but the leader made no motion towards him just yet.

Eris, our mother,
Hear our plea!
We call with another
Sacrifice to thee!

The mice were all chanting this now. The leader tried the blade on the edge of his claw, licked his lips, and stepped forward. Just as the knife was nearing his heart, Angus heard another voice from seemingly far away: “Angus, you want to come out? It’s been a long time and daddy misses his rattikins!” But it was the master’s voice now speaking, and Angus awoke with a start to find himself still in his usual cage in the new house with the human striding through the door. He crept, still trembling, up to the door of the cage and nearly leapt into his master’s hands. Never could he remember having a nightmare so awful, or so realistic. He could still smell the mouse urine and excrement, but it was just that of the real mice in their own cage on top of his. Angus was carried into the far room again, and the master sat this time in a different chair, soft and comfortable, which the rat’s keen nose told him was made of the skin of some large animal. The master took out some crunchy snack tidbits and tried to entice Angus to eat it.
“Take that food back into the kitchen!” Said another voice loudly, and though Angus didn’t understand the words, it seemed to him that he shouldn’t take the offering. Food in general was still far from his mind after the nightmare, and he basked instead in the master’s gentle rubbing and scritching behind his ears. He needed comfort more than sustenance right now. Angus had had nightmares before and even some violent ones having to do with humans not as nice as his master manhandling him or tossing him around. He had even had nightmares about mice and their silly, snuffling ways and foul stench crowding around him as he tried to rest or eat. He had never, however, dreamed of mice so big or violent before and hoped he never had to again. It must have been the long trip in the master’s noisy machine that did it with the mice in their smelly cage always up there in the front running around and around on the wheel.
Well, now it was at least over, and the rubdown was making him tired again. He curled up against the human’s enormous leg and put his paws in the air. Where was his master when he needed him, in the dream of the mice? He was sure the Eris-worshippers would at least have something to fear from him! No animal he knew of was as big as a human (Angus was not familiar with cows, horses, or elephants and rats don’t have the type of vision needed to watch TV) and the master would simply have stepped on the demon-mice. Anyway, since he now knew it had all just been a dream, Angus was not afraid to sleep again. Mice now seemed to him as they had always seemed: silly little rat counterfeits with racing minds who didn’t even care where they left their droppings.

The master rose from the chair and walked back to the bedroom, placing Angus once again in his cage. Angus did not immediately go to sleep but stood in the middle of the cage, listening to the mice who were once again running on the wheel. What did mice nightmare about? Giant roaches? Wheels that never turned no matter haw fast they ran on them? Now, that would be something to see. He was just beginning to savor this delightful image when the female mouse spoke: “What were you dreaming about earlier, Rat? We heard you tossing around and even squealing a little bit. Is there something bad about this place? Please tell us if there is-we don’t want to die!”
“You’re not going to die, silly!” said Henry. “Humans do what they want to do. He hasn’t killed any of us yet, not on purpose, anyway.”
The female shuddered, remembering how she had come upon the flattened body of her mother under the cushions of the master’s chair in the old apartment and smelled the unnatural stench of death. She had never been able to get the image or the smell out of her mind and this was the main reason she still did not fully trust humans.
“What was it then? I’ve never heard him sound so scared sleeping or awake!” The female was still not convinced.
Angus saw no reason to lie, for as he now knew, the nightmare was in its essence so ridiculous that there would be no embarrassment in revealing its subject even to mice. Besides, the female might be silly but her words showed sympathy of a sort, and Angus had always kind of liked Henry, who had always been sweet, deferent, and respectful. He had even tolerated the mouse’s crawling on his back when the master put the two rodents together.
“I dreamed I was in a big glass cage in a place where the mice were bigger than me, and they all wanted to eat me!” Angus replied. “They tied me to a stake and were going to stab me in the heart with a knife. They kept chanting horrible poetry and walking round and round in a circle.”
The two mice said nothing but silently waited for further explanation. Angus could not see them since their cage was on top of his, so he went on: “Do you think there are any mice like that anywhere? They really were huge and their fangs dripped with blood!”
“I never heard tell of any like that.” Henry answered. “I always assumed rats were just a sort of big mouse and I know there are always larger animals. Are you sure they were mice at all?”
“They looked like mice,” Angus said, but he supposed it really didn’t matter now. He was ready to go back to sleep. The master was in the other room tapping on his machine again. Angus didn’t fully understand human machines like the tapping thing or the rolling conveyance that had brought him to the new place, or even the noisy, flashing box the humans liked to stare at. He supposed they all had their uses, if you were a human, at least. He closed his eyes and settled down to sleep again, and this time mercifully the sleep was a dreamless one.
In the morning, Angus awoke to find his master asleep himself in the bed next to his cage. The mice were sleeping too. Angus got up and went up top for some food. He had to weave around some droppings and wished his master would either let him run free or clean out the cage, since the smell was a bit bad in the enclosed space. As he finished eating, the master got up and went into a smaller room and shut the door. Angus could hear the sound of falling water. The master finished showering (Angus never liked the sound of water: it reminded him of the terrible experience of a bath) and, opening the door of the cage, picked him up and this time carried him not into the other room but strait outside! Angus saw that they were heading back to the rolling machine but this time upon opening the door the master simply sat in the front seat and, without starting the machine, lit one of his burning sticks. When this was finished, the human went back outside the machine and placed Angus on the grass!

Run away, o little rat,
On the green and growing grass.
Green and growing, hard and fast,
Until the swiftest horse you pass!

The country air is fresh and clean,
Field of grass and field of bean,
Green and growing, lean and mean,
You need not fear the creeping cats.

Angus liked this poem a lot, and he did not fear cats anyway, since his master had shown him to a couple already and they did not seem to want to hurt him. He did not run far, however, but just savored the freedom and the feel of the slightly wet grass on his feet. Now he knew for sure that the new place would be just as nice as or nicer than the old. Sure, he had to wait in his cage for the master to take him out, but he had never been outside and free like this-just ridden on the human’s shoulder on brief trips outside the old apartment. Things change, and he was ready to change with them. When he was taken back inside and put back in his cage, the female asked where he had been. “Oh, just running around outside. You’re right, there are other animals on four legs bigger than rats, but as long as you show them the proper respect, they aren’t anything to worry about. I’m kind of liking it here.” As Angus finished speaking, the sun peaked from behind a cloud and through the window. It was a brand new day.

Originally posted by angellicview
I would love to hear more!

I have also had an NDE or OBE, I'm not really sure which because I'm not sure whether I was having a life-threatening situation at the time.

I thank you very much for sharing your story - and your book looks interesting, too!

Here are many NDE stories that are really good

if you'd like to take a look: AngelicView NDE Section

I believe it's possible that when you were shown that you were Hitler, etc... (I can't remember who-all), it's possible that it was being shown to you that we've all been people who were "bad" and "good", and people who were artistically inclined and mechanically inclined. We've all been a lot of different personas so-to-speak. And they will all come together as one being (You) in the end, when you're finished with your incarnations here.

I enjoyed your story very much, thank you

AngelicView~

There's more, or I can just answer questions about my experience itself, though I don't remember everything!

reply to post by godspetrat


Very entertaining post, OP.

It's a shame you haven't had more people reading your thread. Maybe more will come.

I didn't take time (yet) to read your book, as I have to go to bed now. But this looks like great stuff when I get more time.
Your NDE was interesting, and I love your style of writing. S&F for you.

Originally posted by sled735
reply to post by godspetrat

 

Very entertaining post, OP.

It's a shame you haven't had more people reading your thread. Maybe more will come.

I didn't take time (yet) to read your book, as I have to go to bed now. But this looks like great stuff when I get more time.
Your NDE was interesting, and I love your style of writing. S&F for you.

Of course I can't prove it to others, but that stuff really happened. My memories of it are a bit garbled, and I think this is how it's supposed to be. You just can't go to that place and be allowed to come back with a full report.