passing thru

Dr. Tesla Discussing The Ether Space Wave Theory

“It was evident to me that wireless transmission of energy, if it could ever be accomplished, is not an invention; it is an art. Bell’s telephone, Edison’s phonograph, or my induction motor were inventions, but the wireless transmission of energy is an art that requires a great many inventions in combination.

“We are living on a planet that is rushing through space; this planet is partly conducting and partly insulating. If it were all conducting, or if it were all insulating, we could not transmit energy without wire. It is only because it is partly conducting and partly insulating that a glorious future for man is reserved through the application of this art.”

–Nikola Tesla

(From a pre-hearing interview with Nikola Tesla and his legal counsel in 1916 to protect his radio patents from the Guglielmo Marconi and the Marconi Company.)

[Fig. 1]:
“We are living on a planet of well-nigh inconceivable dimensions, surrounded by a layer of insulating air above which is a rarefied and conducting atmosphere. This is providential, for if all the air were conducting the transmission of electrical energy thru the natural media would be impossible.” –NT

[Fig. 2]:
“My early experiments have shown that currents of high frequency and great tension readily pass thru an atmosphere but moderately rarefied, so that the insulating stratum is reduced to a small thickness as will be evident by inspection of [Fig. 2], in which a part of the earth and its gaseous envelope is shown to scale. If the radius of the sphere is 12½”, then the non-conducting layer is only 1/64″ thick and it will be obvious that the Hertzian rays cannot traverse so thin a crack between two conducting surfaces for any considerable distance, without being absorbed.” –NT

“Famous Scientific Illusions.” Electrical Experimenter, February, 1919.

Found the most beautiful wildflowers alongside the road in Kansas😍✨🌼I love keeping a small vase of fresh local wildflowers in the van, it brings so much life and energy into our little space. It’s so cool to see how the the flowers and plants change as we pass thru all the different states. Every place has its own beauty🌻Kansas is totally wowing me with all of the wild sunflowers blooming right now.

Instagram: @cosmicnature
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This house has a lot of elderly vibes because as a vampire you pass thru different generations, and keep some of it as a memory or even a souvenir… Yes, there’s lot of plants, because what else I can take care of if I can’t find love, in a Simmortal ? PS: if you want certain items please let me know, it will be more easy to get the links than make a cc list from all of it!

Its In the gallery but I do not have a cc list at the moment, if you want a specific piece of cc, send me a message with the one you want and I will respond you as soon as I can, I’ve been replying lately a lot ♥️ To be honest I don’t have any clue how to make the cc list :(

PCT Day 145: Walking Home

This is my last night on trail. This is my last night on trail. This is my last night on trail. At last, and too soon. 

The single thought that tomorrow will bring me to Canada and the end of my journey got me through some tough hiking today. I was cold, tired, weary–the miles rolled by so slowly, and so many of them were uphill. 

It began to rain, because why would the weather bother changing now? I was now wet on top of those other adjectives, and my hand was still giving me trouble. Not my favorite morning on trail so far, but like all mornings it passed by eventually. (Among the things slowing me down: trying to filter water from a thin barely-there trickle of stream that took 10 minutes of off-trail tramping to find. Water, water, everywhere, etc.)

When I got to Hart’s Pass, I encountered what will almost certainly be my final trail magic. A man named Walking Home was set up there with fruit, jam, soda, and (as I walked up) hot buttered rum. I killed an hour there talking to him, along with Salty (the only other Syracusan I’ve met on trail) and Dairy Queen, who I met all those miles ago back at the trail magic cabin in southern Oregon. Walking Home made coffee for us after the hot buttered rums, and for those few minutes I got a glimpse of what wonders my life will hold when I return to Seattle. 

My brain yo-yoing from the alcohol and caffeine, I set out again, the sun finally beginning to make an effort against the gray, almost solid-looking layer of fog hanging over everything. To the west I could see blue peaks disappearing into the mass of cloud; the lighting this produced on the yellow brush surrounding the ridge trail was strange and beautiful. 

Still, I was just so tired. My thinking was that it was worth doing one last really hard day in order to make tomorrow easier, so I kept pushing, one heavy step after another. Around 6 pm I finally made it to camp at a spring. Eventually, I always get there–it’s pretty amazing and ridiculous that I still stress about that this close to end of the journey. You’d think I’d’ve figured it out by now. 

Across the way from me were three Canadians, down from Vancouver to camp here for a few days. They’d come to this place last year around this time and had seen such beauty that they decided to come back. Too bad, really–around here you can’t see much of anything thanks to the aforementioned fog. They didn’t seem too disappointed, though. They invited me to come join them by their fire, and we talked hiking and life and politics as we all ate. The three–John, Norman, and Margaret–were all so welcoming and kind. This made it even easier to answer, when they asked what the best part of the experience had been, to say “people” without hesitation. 

Eventually I retreated back to my tent, and made hot chocolate with whiskey, courtesy of my old hiking buddy SoHard, who did a rebellious thing and mailed me booze to Stehekin. Delicious. This is my last night on trail. I hardly believe it.

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Quotes and excerpts from Dylan’s journal:

“I was delusional and thought she waved at me the last day of school. Oh well … my emotions are gone. So much past pain at once, my senses are numbed. The beauty of being numb.”

“I’d rather have nothing than be nothing." 

"I want to be free." 

"Farther and farther distant… that’s what’s happening… me & everything that zombies consider dear… just images, not life. Soon I will be at peace I hope…”

“I’ve always had a thing for the past - how it reacts to the present & the future - or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when i got so fucked up…”

“Sadness seems infinite, & the shell of happiness shines around. Yet the true despair overcomes it this lifetime.”

“The pain multiplies infinitely. never stops. Yet im here, STILL alone, still in pain.”

“The framework of society stands above & below me. The hardest thing to destroy, yet the weakest thing that exists. I know that i am different, yet i am afraid to tell the society. The possible abandonment, persecution is not something I want to face, yet it is so primitive to me. I guess being yourself means letting people know about inner thoughts too, not just opinions & fashions. (Heheh) I will be free one day, in the land of purity & my happiness, I will have a love, someone who is me in a way. Someday… Possibly thru this life, maybe another, but it will happen… ”

“Love is more valuable than anything I know. To love is to enter a completion of one’s self. I hate those who choose to destroy a love, who take it for granted. love is greater than life even. As i look for love, i feel i can’t find it. ever. but something tells me i will. Someday. Somewhere. As my love will find me. She feels as i do right now, i can feel it. we will be inseperable. Her & i. Whether it is [edited] or not, i think ill find it. (my love). we will be free, to explore the vast wonders of the stars. To cascade down everlong waterfalls, & thru the warmest seas of pure happiness… no limits… no limits. Nothing will stop us.”

“Nobody will help me.”

“I wonder if ill ever have a love.”

“Being made human
Without the possibility of BEING human
The cruelest of all punishments.”

“These moments will be lost in the depressions & caverns of the human books forever like, tears in rain, but the thoughts will be eternal. To explain the happiness is impossible even for fate. It’s just a pure halcyon set to last more existences than a conceivable number.”

“Existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors, & the ever existent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, thru the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall.”

“Existence is pure hell & pure heaven at the same time. I will never stop wondering. The lost highway will never end.”

“Time to die, time to be free, time to love.”

“The zombies will never cause us pain anymore.”

“Fact: People are so unaware. … well, Ignorance is bliss I guess…. that would explain my depression.”

“I was Mr. Cutter tonight - I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now.”

“oooh god i want to die sooo bad… such a sad, desolate, lonely, unsalvageable i feel i am….. not fair, NOT FAIR!!!! I wanted happiness!! I never got it…”

“I think a lot. Think … think … that’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking … all the time … my mind never stops… music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking…" 

”My existence is shit to me – how I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake – artificial, induced [?] by thought, how everything connects, yet its all so far apart…. & I sit & think…"

“I don’t fit in I’ve been thinking of suicide gives no hope, that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life … that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe – my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE in me – my soul (existence)." 

”Goodbye, sorry to everyone… I just can’t take it … all the thoughts … too many … make my head twist… I must have happiness, love, peace. Goodbye"

“some zombies are smarter than others, some manipulate… like my parents.”

“It’s interesting, when I’m in my human form, knowing I’m going to die. Everything has a touch of triviality to it. Like how none of this calculus shit matters. The way it shouldn’t. the truth. In 26.4 hours, I’ll be dead, & in happiness. The little zombie human fags will know their errors, & be forever suffering and mournful”

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Dylan’s journal

1: Fact: People are so unaware…. well, ignorance is bliss I guess…. that would explain my depression. - Dylan
A Virtual Book
EXISTENCES
By: Dylan
Properties: This book cannot be opened by anyone except Dylan (some supernatural force blocks common people from entering).
<<-VoDkA->>
<<-Dylan->> 
2: The 4 stages from within: most, few, some, none
Me is place outside all the boxes. 
3: El Thoughtzos
Ah yes, this is me writing … just writing, nobody technically did anything, just I felt like throwing out my thoughts - this is a weird time, weird life, weird existence. As I sit here (partially drunk with a screwdriver) I think a lot. Think … think … that’s all my life is, just shitloads of thinking … all the time … my mind never stops … music runs 24/7 (except for sleep), just songs I hear, not necessarily good or bad, & thinking … about the asshole - in gym class, how he worries me, about driving, & my family, about friends & doings with them, about girls I know (mainly - & -) how I know I can never have them, yet I can still dream … I do shit to supposedly ‘cleanse’ myself in a spiritual, moral sort of way (deleting the wads on my computer, not getting drunk for periods of time, trying not to ridicule/make fun of people (-) at school), yet it does nothing to help my life morally. My existence is shit to me - how I feel that I am in eternal suffering, in infinite directions in infinite realities. Yet these realities are fake - artificial, induced (?) by thought, how everything connects, yet it’s all so far apart … & I sit & think … science is the way to find solutions to everything, right? I still think that, yet I see different views of shit now - like the mind - yet if the mind is viewed scientifically … hmm
I dwell in the past … thinking of good & bad memories. 
4: A lot on the past though … I’ve always had a thing for the past - how it reacts to the present & the future - or rather vice versa. I wonder how/when I got so fucked up w my mind, existence, problem - when Dylan Bennet Klebold got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body … as I see the people at school - some good, some bad - I see how different I am (aren’t we all you’ll say) yet I’m on such a greater scale of difference than everyone else (as far as I know, or guess). I see jocks having fun, friends, women, LIVEZ. 
Or rather shallow existences compared to mine (maybe) like ignorance = bliss. They don’t know beyond this world (how I do in my mind or in reality or in this existence) yet we each are lacking something that the other possesses - I lack the true human nature that Dylan owned & they lack the overdeveloped mind/imagination/knowledge tool. I don’t fit in here thinking of suicide gives me hope, that I’ll be in my place wherever I go after this life … that I’ll finally not be at war with myself, the world, the universe - my mind, body, everywhere, everything at PEACE in me - my soul (existence). & the routine is still monotonous, go to school, be scared & nervous, hoping that people can accept me … that I can accept them … the NIN (Nine Inch Nails) song Piggy is good for thought writing … The Lost Highway sounds like a movie about me … I’m gonna write later, bye   <<-VoDkA->>
5: Da ThoughtZ Jeah
Well well, back at it, yes (you say) whoever the fuck ‘you’ is, but yea. My life is still fucked, in case you care … maybe, … (not?) I have just lost fuckin 45$, & before that I lost my zippo & knife (I did get those back) Why the fuck is he being such an ASSHOLE??? (god I guess, whoever is the being which controls shit). He’s fucking me over big time & it pisses me off. Oooh god I HATE my life, I want to die really bad right now - let’s see what I have that’s good: A nice family, a good house, food, a couple of good friends, & possessions. What’s bad - no girls (friends or girlfriends), no other friends except a few, nobody accepting me even though I want to be accepted, me doing badly & being intimidated in any & all sports, me looking weird & acting shy - BIG problem, me getting bad grades, having no ambition of life, that’s the big shit. Anyway … I was Mr. Cutter tonight - I have 11 depressioners on my right hand now, & my favorite contrasting symbol, because it is so true & means so much. The battle between good & bad never ends … OK enough bitchin … well I’m not done yet. OK go … I don’t know  why I do wrong with people (mainly women) - it’s like they are set out to hate & ignore me, I never know what to say or do. - is soo fuckin lucky he has no idea how I suffer. 
6: Okay here’s some poetry … this is a display of one man in search of answers, never finding them, yet in hopelessness understands things …
Existence … what a strange word. He set out by determination & curiosity, knows no existence, knows nothing relevant to himself. The pretty declarations of others & everything on this world, in this world, he knows the answers to. Yet they have no purpose to him. He seeks knowledge of the unthinkable, of the undefinable, of the unknown. He explores the everything … using his mind, the most powerful tool known to him. Not a physical barrier blocking the limits of exploration, time thru thought thru dimensions … the everything is his realm. Yet, the more he thinks, hoping to find answers to his questions, the more come up. Amazingly, the petty things mean much to him at this time, how he wants to be normal, not this transceiver of the everything. Then occurring to him, the answer. How everything is connected yet separate. By experiencing the petty others actions, reactions, emotions, doings and thoughts, he gets a mental picture of what, in his mind, is a cycle. Existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors, & the ever existent compulsion of everything is the curiosity to keep moving down the hall, thru the doors, exploring rooms, down this never-ending hall. Questions make answers, answers conceive questions, and at long last he is content. TTYL  <<-VoDkA->>
7: Thoughtz                                                                                                          Yo … whassup … heheheheh … know what’s weird? Everyone knows everyone. I swear - like I’m an outcast, & everyone is conspiring against me … Check it … (this isn’t good, but I need to write, so here ….                                             Within the known limits of time … within the conceived boundaries of space … the average human thinks those are the settings of existence … yet the ponderer, the outcast, the believer, helps out the human. “Think not of 2 dimensions”, says the ponderer, “but of 3, as your world is conceived of 3 dimensions, so is mine. While you explore the immediate physical boundaries of your body, you see in your 3 dimensions - L, W, & H, yet I, who is more mentally open to anything, see my 3 dimensions. My realm of thought - Time, Space, & THOUGHT. Thought is the most powerful thing that exists - anything conceivable can be produced, anything & everything is possible, even in your physical world.” After this so called “lecture” the common man feels confused, empty, & unaware. Yet those are the best emotions of a ponderer. The real difference is, a true ponderer will explore these emotions & what caused them. Another … a dream.                                                                                         Miles & miles of never ending grass, like a wheat. A farm, sunshine, a happy feeling in the presence, Absolutely nothing wrong, nothing ever is, contrary 180 (degrees) to normal life. No awareness, just pure bliss, unexplainable bliss, The only challenges are no challenge, & then … BAM!!! realization sets in, the world is the greatest punishment. Life.                                                            8: Hypnosis place - It is a sky - with one large cloud, & sort of cloud-made chair - the sun is at the head of the chair … 10 o’clock up into the sky … Below, I sometimes see mist, & the green (forest green) earth - sorta a city, yet I hear nothing. I relax on this chair - actually like a chaise - & I am talking … to what? I don’t know - it’s just there, I have the feeling that I know him, even though I consciously don’t … & we talk like we are the same person - like he’s my soul … The everlasting contrast …                                                                              Dark. Light. God. Lucifer. Heaven. Hell. GOOD. BAD. Yes, the everlasting-contrast. Since existence has known the ‘fight’ between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end. Good things turn bad, bad things become good, the ‘people’ on the earth see it as a battle they can win. HA fuckin morons. If people looked at History, they would see what happens. I think, too much, I understand, I am GOD compared to some of those un-existable brainless zombies. Yet, the actions of them interest me, like a kid with a new toy. Another contrast, more of a paradox, actually, like the advanced go for the undevelopeds realm, while some of the morons become everything dwellers - but exceptions to every rule, & this is a BIG exception - most morons never change, they never decide to live in the ‘everything’ frame of mind!              Laterz           <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                   9: <<-VoDkA->>’s Thoughts                                                                                   The - Situation                                                                                                             It is not good for me right now (like it ever is) … but anyway … My best friend ever: the friend who shared, experimented, laughed, took chances with & appreciated me more than any friend ever did has been ordained … “passed on” … in my book. Ever since - (who I wouldn’t mind killing) has loved him … that’s the only place he’s been with her … if anyone had any idea how sad I am … I mean we were the TEAM. When him & I first were friends, well I finally found someone who was like me: who appreciated me & shared very common interests. Ever since 7th grade, I’ve felt lonely … when - came around, I finally felt happiness (sometimes) we did cigars, drinking, sabotage to houses, EVERYTHING for the first time together & now that he’s “moved on” I feel so lonely, without a friend. Oh well, maybe he’ll come around -> … I hope.               That’s all - for this topic - maybe I’ll never see this again. (-> ô=-   -=ô)                 <<-VoDkA->>                                                                                                                10: My 1st Love????                                                                                               OH my God … I am almost sure I am in love … with -. Hehehe … such a strange name, like mine … yet everything about her I love. From her good body to her almost perfect face, her charm, her wit & cunning, her NOT being popular. Her friends (who I know) - some - I just hope she likes me as much as I LOVE her. I think of her every second of every day. I want to be with her. I imagine me & her doing things together, the sound of her laugh, I picture her face, I love her. If - soulmates exist, then I think I’ve found mine. I hope she likes Techno … :-)             -, I love you                                                                                                             - Dylan

Writer’s block can choke

Message in a Bottle - Part One

I received another wonderful prompt from romancoin the other day! She seriously has the best ideas. If y’all need prompts, ask her. But, anyway, she sent me this completely developed story and hinted she might try her hand at writing fanfic someday… so I strayed a bit from her premise in hopes that I’d annoy her enough to make her want to write it her own way. Ha! I love you romancoin, don’t hate me.

Here’s the premise that she pitched to me: Lonely Modern-Day-Claire (an engineer, to stir things up a bit) goes to Craig na Dunn not knowing it’s hidden powers. Something vanishes thru the cleft in the stone, prompting her to send other things thru. Jamie finds them and sends them back. Love letters ensue and one travels thru the stones to the other.


Day One - July 10th, 2016; Cairngorms National Park, Scotland.

Uncle Lamb and I had relocated to Oxford from Cairo about five years ago. He had taken a teaching position there, while I attempted to graduate early from upper school and begin taking university courses of my own in London. This set me at a complete disadvantage in the friends department, yet managed to earn me a certain measure of unwanted attention in the biochemical engineering department.

I took this summer off from internships, classes, and labs and instead followed my uncle to the Scottish Highlands. It was a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively, to be back in the field with him.

This location wasn’t really within Uncle Lamb’s usual scope of historical exploration, he was an expert on the intermediate Egyptian dynasties with several books published on the more specific topic of New Kingdom hieroglyphics, but he had lost a bet with a favorite professor friend of his and, so, here we were.

Tipping my head back, I peered up the steep slope of the hill. Hiking was never far out of the realm of possibility with my uncle and I thanked my lucky stars I had worn my boots today. “It’s at the top?” I asked, rather unnecessarily.

Of course, it was at the top. It was always at the top. Except when it was at the very bottom, but, even then, you had to climb back to the top.

“Yep!” Dr Joe Abernathy, an American who specialized Scottish folklore, replied eagerly.

I trailed behind Uncle Lamb and Dr Joe as we hiked the path up to the top of Craigh na Dunn, listening absently to the two of them discuss the myths surrounding the site. They were two peas in a pod, although Dr Joe was significantly younger than my uncle, and were both in a titter about recently found artifacts or some such.

“And you say they just appear at the base?” My uncle asked skeptically.

Dr Joe nodded, “Dead as door nails.”

The thought of poor, dead birds randomly materializing on the ground in the middle of a henge made me shudder.

What on earth had I agreed to?

Day Three - July 13th, 2016.

I sat on the ground between two of the outer stones and chewed on the end of my pencil as I tried to get the cleft in the center stone right. It was quickly frustrating me, being almost geometrically proportional but off just enough to make it irritatingly irregular.

Tearing the page out of my sketchbook, I crumpled it up into a tight ball and threw it at the offending rock. It arched perfectly, looking like it was going to pass right thru the divide. I silently congratulated myself as I waited to see if it would land my uncle, who was working on the other side.

A startled shriek escaped my lips as the paper vanished into thin air.

“Are you alright, Claire?” Uncle Lamb stuck his head around the side of the stone.

Pointing above his head, I gaped, “Where the hell did it go?”

“Where did what go?” Dr Joe asked, coming towards me.

“My paper,” I stood as I answered. “I threw it at the stone and it disappeared.”

Dr Joe laughed and patted me on the head patronizingly, “Sure you did, kid.”

“I’m eighteen and I know what I saw!” I informed him.

Day Four - July 14th, 2016.

One of my favorite things to do when I was in the field with Uncle Lamb was to go for morning hikes. We were both early risers, but, as he need an entire pot of coffee before he was ready to do anything productive, I used it as my own private, quiet time.

I got to the top of the hill just as the sun was beginning to hit the standing stones. The sunrise painted the already eerie monoliths in an almost otherworldly light and I took out my phone to quickly capture the moment. Something white caught my eye in the corner of the image, prompting me to move closer to the center stone to investigate.

It was my paper.

Mouth open in astonishment, I scooped it up. It was slightly damp from the dew, but very obviously the paper I had thrown the afternoon before. It certainly hadn’t been there before we left, I had scoured the site looking for it to no avail.

I uncrumpled it and dropped the sheet of paper like it was a hot coal.

Someone had finished my sketch, signing their work with five neat letters in the bottom left hand corner.

JAMMF