Occult Experiments in the Home

I had a chance for a solo lie-in, so I took it. Eventually I felt the buzzing that heralds the OOBE state. For some reason it wouldn’t sweep entirely over me but remained at a certain threshold. I was paralysed and in great muscular pain, yet I could see fairly clearly that the pain wasn’t physical but an image of such.

I relaxed into it, finding a point that felt like the normal sensation of falling asleep – only this allowed my entrance into a lucid dream. ‘Falling asleep’ had liberated my consciousness from the paralysed body. The lucid state is light, brittle and freely moving. The OOBE state is dependent on the buzzing sensation for its manifestation and upon retaining a connection with bodily sensations.

I was in an office building. I called out, to see if anyone was nearby. From the stairwell a man answered. He seemed caretaker of the buiding.

‘Who’s in charge?’

‘That’s the Trolley,’ he said.

‘Where do I find it?’

‘Go up to the first floor and take a left.’

The directions, I realised, were approximate, because the layout of the building was complex. There were split-level rooms and little annexes all over the place. The lighting was low and the offices littered with all kinds of objects, mostly office equipment, but also knick-knacks and ornaments: plants, framed photos, teapots, toasters, kettles. I looked around a long time for any piece of furniture that might be described as ‘the Trolley’.

There was a strong feminine presence in the building. I sensed that the human boss here was a woman, and possibly all the staff too – apart from the caretaker. Finally I shouted out and clapped my hands, and realised in the process that I only ever have to do this in order to make a human being appear.

A woman came. I asked her: ‘Where’s the Trolley?’

‘He’s over there in the corner, on the left.’

I moved off, but then the dream came apart. I woke completely and had to apply considerble effort to get back in. Luckily, I zoomed in quickly onto the lucid state.

The Trolley was a robot-like entity made of shiny bluish metal, not unlike R2D2 from Star Wars. When it spoke it sounded like Metal Mickey. Each word sent a vibration deep into me that felt like the OOBE buzzing sensation. I found myself imitating its voice; I couldn’t help it. The buzzing in my own voice had the same effect on my body.

Metal Mickey. (Click the picture and he'll sing you a little song on YouTube.)

I think the quality of my lucidity was degrading, or maybe I was putting my questions to it in a manner beyond words and more like images. I can’t remember all the questions I asked, but some of them were these:

‘You’re the Trolley and you’re in charge?’

YES.

‘Are you an angelic being?’

YES.

‘Of what kind of level and power?’ But then I found myself asking: ‘How many squares do you occupy?’, which I knew referred to the Enochian tablets of the angels.

I OCCUPY SIX SQUARES.

‘Have you ever harmed human beings?’

NEVER.

‘What is your function?’

TO ISOLATE AND JUSTIFY.

The dream broke upon again here. I was tired and decided I’d had enough – although I’m sure there were more questions and answers that I haven’t remembered.

At some point, either between these lucid episodes or after, there was a non-lucid dream. The sound of the TV downstairs became a romantic comedy starring the actor Matt Frewer (I recognised his voice). The story was narrated by his character’s mother-in-law who possessed a magical device with a single function: it enabled the Frewer character and his wife to travel and meet together in Spain, no matter where they happened to be in the world. The travel was not instantaneous but took a short while and may even have involved them both flying through the air.

The oddest part of this whole session, however, was hearing myself ask the question about ‘how many squares’.

Maybe the best way to communicate with these beings is not to use verbal language at all, but to dream questions at them.