October 22, 1998
Test #2—Future: First perspective
I will begin experimentation in future projections, still staying within the confines of the first perspective. I will follow the advice of Baines and burn rosemary instead of sage and have conducted the same potion to help with the trip:
2 sprigs mint
3 drops tiger shark blood
1 tsp celestial dust
4 chrono-berries
1 cup time-infused spring water
Combine ingredients in a silver chalice and mix with a temporal wand in a clockwise direction. Whisper incantation for guidance before consuming (Baines 1960).
I plan to begin one meditation following Baines' research to examine base results before I begin to modify her methods.
I plan to send myself 2 days into the future. Based on previous research, I suspect traveling forward in time will have some greater ease than the focus required to travel backward. The mind wants to move forward.
What I predict to see are different paths to follow and multiple possibilities. I do not expect just one future to flash before me, but see the path like a flowing creek, approaching major events, watching the current split again depending on my decisions.
The madness I expect to find in future projections is linked to the endless possibilities these visions can develop. An obsession can grow in the need to follow every path and see every outcome. That was how Lars Carey lost his mind. He was a professor I met only once, but found his name linked to future time invocation and read about his suicide where he threw himself off a building head first. I think he was seeing future possibilities even when not meditating, his mind beginning to try to take his sight down future paths that he could not stop.
Part of me fears what I will see in this trance. The unknown can sometimes seem like a black hole, impossible to know what you will see on the other side. When traveling forward in time, research suggests emotions are the gravitational force that can pull you down or pull you apart.
Test #2—Results:
When traveling forward in time, events move quicker and breath leaves me easier. I could feel my pulse in my ears. I watched my motions speed through a day that ended in minutes, many of the events blurring too quickly for me to get a hold of them.
I tracked time by the movement of the sun when I got a glimpse of the sky. I was not yet at my mark when events began to slow. My temples throbbed for a moment and my vision was beginning to double. I saw a shadow of my hand pushing open the door of my apartment and another shadow of my arm stopping at the handle. I heard someone call my name behind me and I saw the crossroads—turn around and face the voice or ignore gut instinct telling you to get inside.
I chose the ladder and events began to speed up again. I lost focus before I could get to my mark. After I made my decision, I second-guessed it. Because I had no idea what that voice was behind me. But it was difficult to think of the other path when you had already chosen another one. Visions began to fade and I felt a lurch in my stomach like I was falling from the top of a building before I landed in my present body. I was vibrating and my heart was throbbing in my chest when I awoke on the floor. A cold bath dropped my body temperature back to normal and there were no lingering symptoms.
The crossroads I encountered in my vision played out 30 hours after my trip. There was a strange shudder of de ja vu echoing through my body as I heard the voice. It was louder in the present, and that sinking gut feeling felt ten times stronger. I turned around. There was no one there. I called out to the landscape beginning to be blanketed by the dark, and I got no response. I entered my apartment just the same.
But I heard the voice 3 more times that evening. Each time I had horrible stomach cramps that told me to ignore it. I do not like that I am questioning my instincts. They have not steered me wrong before, but now it feels like I've lost some control.
October 26, 1998
Test #3—Future: First perspective (session 2)
I have adjusted Alexandra Baines' method, using lemongrass in replacement of mint to enhance calming and soothing effects instead of the stimulating and energizing effects that come from the mint in an attempt to keep my heart rate under control so I do not overheat. I am also burning dried lavender instead of rosemary.
This time I will project 3 days in the future, with the only intention to observe. I do not want to slip too far, as last time I saw time beginning to reel faster and faster, and I worry about getting caught in a trance that would keep me moving endlessly through my life. I don't know what that would mean if that happened, or what would happen to me.
Test #3—Results:
My last trip has been much more successful. I made it 3 days into the future. Things move so fast that I barely pay attention to my actions, keeping focus on the transitions of the sky to track my progression. I encountered no crossroads and needed to make no important decisions that would split my path, and for this I was grateful. I admit I fear that voice that echoed behind me that one night, my imagination using it to make my focus waver, as I had prepared for this trip by spending an extensive amount of time in meditative states to better master mental control.
When I landed on my mark, the memories that had flashed through my head suddenly all became clear. I watched myself as I went for a jog while the sun was setting. I could see the colors of the sky, and I remember the mash of purple and gold glowing through the few clouds remaining in the sky. I knew the path I was taking and could see my arms jutting out at my sides, but I did not feel my heart racing, or my legs stretching, I was a passenger in my body with no senses or access to the real world. Yet…I felt so present. I could not feel the breeze on my face but could imagine it perfectly.
According to Alexandra Baines' research, gaining control of your future self takes more focus than past projection. Your mind wants to keep moving, the progression of time almost addicting as things run faster.
Once you reach your destination, you can watch your perspective through different eyes, an extra dose of the potion is required, containing an additional drop of tiger shark blood, as this stimulates your focus and energy and helps break through the barrier between present and future. But your mind must remain in the future, training your body to break the meditative position and unconsciously drink the additional elixir.
I plan to practice this technique, as it is one I have heard of before, and I have confidence that I will be able to break that barrier, but I predict that the result will be the same as when I projected into the past—the actions may feel real but they will not change the present.
October 27, 1998
After my encounter with the future, I experienced a disturbing dream and have not been able to find sleep since. I saw my life speeding up so fast I could not control it. It wound forward and I saw faces I did not recognize with expressions that did not appear friendly. Then time reeled backward and I could not stop it. Now were flashes of faces I knew. Some shone brightly—people who were intertwined in my life with great detail—and some faces were dim shadows—people who made an impression but did not matter enough to linger long. I remember screaming for it to stop, my mouth opened wide but my words were lost somewhere between past and future.
I woke up with a raging headache that has yet to cease, but I wanted to record my thoughts before they were lost. I believe there is significance in this dream, my mind stretching like a muscle not yet trained for the extra poundage. I do not know how much more my muscles can stretch.
October 31, 1998
I have been having dreams every time I fall asleep. I feel like I've lived 100 lifetimes, information crammed into my head that reaches beyond my world and what I know. I see experiments I've never conducted with hands that are not my own. I see rows of carefully sculpted pottery that look like the work my mother used to make, the surfaces cracking before my eyes, dust collecting, shelves rotting.
There is a professor of numerology who studied time invocation 11 years ago and contributed to the research less popularly. Anima McFarland studied the effects of time invocation and the symptoms of the methods. McFarland was talented at making people disappear and documented all her work.
According to her research, madness was a common symptom of first-person time projection. She had a remarkable talent with words and persuasion curses, creating the idea in her victim's heads that brought them into a meditative trance, varying the ingredients in the potions consumed, the herbs burnt, and she was able to manipulate their focus to send them as far backward or forwards in time as she wanted. The more the subject underwent the trance—past or future—the more strenuous the symptoms which included hearing voices, seeing the dead, splitting headaches, and the loss of teeth. These are severe symptoms after the subject has taken 10 or 11 trips.
McFarland would question the subjects before and after each session and ask them the same question to see what they remembered or forgot. They lost pieces of themselves after each session. After 7 or 8 trips she found victims began to forget things even when they stopped meditating. At a certain point, a mind can become picked apart enough that there is nothing to keep the foundations of thought together. Some fell into a vegetative state. Others lost the ability to speak, "words falling apart as they left their lips which grew into frustrated babble, the subject in constant confusion of why they could not produce words they could hear in their heads" (McFarland 1987). [1]One subject went blind and another tried to slice her throat with a butter knife.
Despite these mental disorders, McFarland did find some solutions to the damage done. Through a large number of psychological experiments, she developed a recipe that could curve the effects:
2 parts lunar lavender
2 parts stardust sage
2 parts chamomile blossoms
1 part frostfire mint leaves
5 parts celestial honey
5 parts vanilla pods
Begin on a full moon and combine lavender, sage, and chamomile in a bowl and crush until it becomes a fine powder. Add the mint, blend, then transfer to a cauldron add honey, and stir clockwise. Open vanilla pods scrape out the seeds and add to the cauldron. Simmer over a flame for 3 hours and allow to cool before ingesting.
I will consume the mixture tonight while undergoing a deep meditative trance. I foresaw these events before the beginning of these experiments but wanted to witness them for myself. I want to know if this elixir works because I believe the success of such a potion could add valuable insight into the workings of time invocation.
November 1, 1998
After I consumed the elixir from Anima McFarland's recipe, I felt immediate effects. The lavender and chamomile had a calming and tranquil effect that let my body and mind relax. The sage cleared my mind and gave me control of my thoughts again. The mint added a refreshing and cool sensation but I thought the addition of the vanilla pods made it too sweet for my taste.
Once my head cleared I engaged in simple mindfulness, counting numbers in my head and focusing on my breathing. I believe my condition has improved. I should give myself more time to rest, but since my head has cleared it has become hard to keep back the thoughts in my head for my next test.
[1] McFarland, A. (1987). "Temporal Dissonance and Cognitive Ripples: A Multidimensional Analysis of the Effects of Time Invocation." Journal of Quantum Telepathy