It is.
Last night while deep-dreaming, I briefly awoke after a recurrent episodic chapter in which I find myself strolling through an urban dog park with my dog by side. In this particular dream-scape, the grass is distinctly purple, and for some reason, it's predominantly populated by singing cats that sing only in Mandarin.
Since I was so entirely and blissfully relaxed upon awakening, it occurred to me that it might be a good time to practice remote viewing. I decided to give Mars a try.
Exploring other worlds can be as terrifying as it is rewarding. It's hard to convey the apprehension I felt upon discovering the row of five-sided pyramidal structures on the 'dark' side of the moon during broad lunar daylight.
Remote viewing is nothing like Astral travel. If I were asked to succinctly define the difference between the two thougth-states, I'd say that Astral Travel is akin to allowing one's consciousness to transform into a vessel capable of cyclically slipping betwixt dimensions in a fluttery fashion, whereas remote viewing is like teleporting one's consciousness to specific points in space. Of course I'm speaking only from my own experiences, but I find that Astral Travelling isn't unlike a 4D acid trip. Remote viewing is more like watching time unfold through the lens of a live television broadcast.
The Martians are real, and they're nothing like how I sometimes imagined supposed advanced life on the so-called red planet might be. Basically I imagined ugly humanoids living in underground bunkers connected by tunnels, or colonies of dumb, burrowing worm-like organisms. In fact, the dominant Martian dweller is a highly sensitive photosynthetic-based form of life. Simply-put, half plant, and half animal.
I noticed great diversity within the species. While every Martian I observed clearly shared a rooted existence underneath the greyish soil - bound to the ground - each specimen exhibited radically different structures in terms of physical dimensions and appearance. The aniplants (or plantimals) were capable of slow movement - made possible by what I would presume to be flexible and muscular roots that painstakingly propelled them ever so slowly across surface distances.
While remote viewing, sounds are indiscernible, but I got the distinct impression that their movements would create a rumbling sensation, and imagined that their roots work furiously beneath the surface to pull themselves along. The closest Earthbound comparison I can make would be that of a of a large Venus Fly Trap with compound eyes creeping around a desert.
Last night while deep-dreaming, I briefly awoke after a recurrent episodic chapter in which I find myself strolling through an urban dog park with my dog by side. In this particular dream-scape, the grass is distinctly purple, and for some reason, it's predominantly populated by singing cats that sing only in Mandarin.
Since I was so entirely and blissfully relaxed upon awakening, it occurred to me that it might be a good time to practice remote viewing. I decided to give Mars a try.
Exploring other worlds can be as terrifying as it is rewarding. It's hard to convey the apprehension I felt upon discovering the row of five-sided pyramidal structures on the 'dark' side of the moon during broad lunar daylight.
Remote viewing is nothing like Astral travel. If I were asked to succinctly define the difference between the two thougth-states, I'd say that Astral Travel is akin to allowing one's consciousness to transform into a vessel capable of cyclically slipping betwixt dimensions in a fluttery fashion, whereas remote viewing is like teleporting one's consciousness to specific points in space. Of course I'm speaking only from my own experiences, but I find that Astral Travelling isn't unlike a 4D acid trip. Remote viewing is more like watching time unfold through the lens of a live television broadcast.
The Martians are real, and they're nothing like how I sometimes imagined supposed advanced life on the so-called red planet might be. Basically I imagined ugly humanoids living in underground bunkers connected by tunnels, or colonies of dumb, burrowing worm-like organisms. In fact, the dominant Martian dweller is a highly sensitive photosynthetic-based form of life. Simply-put, half plant, and half animal.
I noticed great diversity within the species. While every Martian I observed clearly shared a rooted existence underneath the greyish soil - bound to the ground - each specimen exhibited radically different structures in terms of physical dimensions and appearance. The aniplants (or plantimals) were capable of slow movement - made possible by what I would presume to be flexible and muscular roots that painstakingly propelled them ever so slowly across surface distances.
While remote viewing, sounds are indiscernible, but I got the distinct impression that their movements would create a rumbling sensation, and imagined that their roots work furiously beneath the surface to pull themselves along. The closest Earthbound comparison I can make would be that of a of a large Venus Fly Trap with compound eyes creeping around a desert.
