Look At Me Bobby

June 6th, 2018

I had a dream where my mom has a museum where she displays artifacts from history.  The artifacts have religious or spiritual connotations.  Things like tuning bowls, instruments, mandalas etc.  My mom lives in the house behind the museum.  Someone comes into the museum looking for her wanting to borrow my bike. The person is a cousin possibly Victor.  I’m thinking I hope my mom hasn’t started lending out my things to people because these things are things I cherish and have great value and memories tied to them.  I don’t seem to remember how to get to her house.  He tells me they need access to the water lines.  As he is leaving, I tell him,  I am the son of Otilia.  I then discretely follow behind him knowing if I follow him he will lead me to where my mom is or lives.  I may learn more about my mom.  Behind the house is a natural body of water which is very deep.  The water glows orange and yellow in the light of the sun.  He now has lion hair and a furr coat on.  He now reminds me of my cousin Jeannette.  She dives in to retrieve what they need to access the water main.  When she comes out at the other end I tell her she didn’t have to jump in the water with her coat on.  She then takes the coat off to dry it and now she is a man with a beautiful hairy chest.  I think to myself, why would you cover that up his beautiful furry chest with a furr coat?  He rushes off to get his firetruck.  I am looking in the direction where he went waiting to see him return when from behind a truck and trailer approach.  The truck has no sides or top.  I ask him if it is legal to drive around like that.  He gets off the truck and tells me this is his firetruck.

Scenes flash before me like short 3 second movie clips.  Messages from these people come rushing in.  In one clip, I see my son when he is young.  I stop the clip because after all its my dream and I want to see my son.  The dream pauses for just a moment long enough for me to get a good look.

(Click on above image it’s a 3 second clip)

In the time span of a breath I take in his image.  Feeling complete I exhale allowing the dream to continue.  I then see a man who looks at me.  I am still coming off the intense high of seeing my son so I am not paying much attention to anything else.  I feel like I have what I came for.  Again he makes a facial gesture indicating he too has a message for me.  I am still unable to focus.  He looks directly into my eyes and says,  “Look at me.”  I pause long enough for me to get a good look at this man.  The dream ends here as his image slowly fades from my mind.  Who is this man?

~~~~ DREAM ENDS HERE

I then woke up and recorded the details of the dream.  After my coffee I wanted to know who this man was.  Why was it so important for me to look into his eyes.  I said a prayer and walked into my library glancing slowly at the pictures on the shelves.  I wanted to find a picture with someone I can look into their eyes.  I then came to my Grandmothers photograph.  I stared at my Grandma for a few minutes and felt complete.

I then went upstairs to start my day.  The man’s face a man I’ve never seen before yet clear as day in my mind’s eye sat there not wanting to leave me.  I turned on the TV to watch MSNBC.  The news was having a segment honoring Robert F Kennedy.  It was a long segment on his life.  I am slightly annoyed because I want the regular news.  What is going on with Bobby Kennedy today that they are taking so much time recounting his life.  They then turned to a picture of him and OMG it was his face in my dream.  It was his face exactly.

I then went online to look for pictures of him to possibly look into his eyes.  Come to find out today it is the 50th anniversary of his death.  He died 50 years ago at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles.

My grandmother Simona Camargo also died at Good Samaritan Hospital when I was in the 8th grade probably 1978.  This is the picture I have of my Grandmother in my library.  I worked at Good Samaritan as a candy stripper the summer she died.  My aunt Helen also worked there as a nurse.  I thought it unusual when I came to her picture how perfect it felt to looking into her eyes.  I felt it must have been her.  I thought maybe my grandma came to me as a man in my dream but why would she do that?  Apparently there was so much more to be told.  What is the coincidence that today would be the anniversary of Bobby’s death.  Curious too the image I found online of bobby near the body of water is a 3 second clip much like the clips presented to me in the dream.  Had he possibly been swimming there in that picture?  And apparently he has a hairy chest.  So many coincidences.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it was OB I saw before this man showed his face.  Was it then OB all along showing me his firetruck?  I like the picture of Bobby and the little girl.  I imaging myself someday with OB.  I wonder is that was his daughter.  I don’t know much about Bobby Kennedy.  Was OB my Grandma and Bobby all in heaven conspiring to send me messages.  I think so. I am a blessed man to have a direct connection to the higher realms.

May you rest in Peace Bobby.  And to my Grandma I remember you like it was yesterday.  I will never forget you.  Le tengo mucho amor abuelita.

 

The Kids Table

I had a dream where I am trying to coordinate a flight with my ex Joe.  I have to find a place to park my car but the airport parking lot is full and I’m told by the parking attendant that there is a detour and he advises me to find another option.  He points me in the direction of a metered spot but I am suspicious of that spot because I don’t want to get a ticket just in case I don’t get back in time to pick up the car.  Instead I go looking for another parking space.  I am able to find street parking nearby.  I don’t know when the flight is but I do know it is scheduled soon.

I then find myself trying to save my goldfishes.  Someone has placed them in a bucket with very little water.  The fish are struggling to swim.  I feel a strong connection to them as if they were my children.  I go looking for a water bottle to try and save them. I find a blue and grey bottle in the kitchen cupboard.  I fill it up with water and pour it in the bucket only to find the bucket has holes everywhere.  Someone is trying to sabotage my effort. One of the fishes is already dead.  Mocha and Cleo now eat the fish not knowing they are special.

My brother Paz is trying to entrap me between a concrete wall. Paz  has sided with Trump and is now a terrorist.  He is jealous of my spiritual connection and wants to kill me or have me go missing so that he can claim my property.  I’m really tired of dealing with the Paz’s character and decide I will no longer be part of it.  I refuse to give him power over me.  I step into my faith in the knowledge that I am OK regardless of what Paz is  doing.  I then surrender and step into the space between the  concrete walls.  My friends Toni C and Stephen are here along with other friends from various groups who have come to this space to support me.  The space between the walls begins to provide a clearing.

Those gathered here tell me that they have gathered my seed and I have born a child but that the child has the defect of illegitimacy.  They bring the child to me and I feel compassion for his situation.  I take the child and he grows up in my arms.  I teach him how to fly and watch him become a man.  We take flight together and become one.  I feel him against my loins and groin and in my spirit with a feeling of ecstasy.  The feeling is beautiful and overwhelming.

Now in full flight we ascend to an elevation high above to the tops of the buildings where I see a bezeled window with a cut out shape much like a cookie cutter opening.  The opening is large enough for my spirit to pass .  We pass through the opening.

We are in flight.  He is now a full grown man.  Having taught him everything I pass my power to him and now he carries me.  I can feel the wind touch my body.  We are facing each other.  I am moving backward as he is moving forward.    Its time to find a resting place.  As we descend he becomes younger and younger.  Once we land his presence leaves me.

I then find myself sitting at a wooden picnic table where I meet a man.  He is seated beside me.  I am talking to the memory of my son as if he were still with me.  I feel silly talking to someone that is not there.  I’m afraid the man seated next to me will think I’m crazy.  I am telling the man about my dreams and how wonderful they are.  I’m getting confused.  I can’t distinguish whether I’m dreaming or not.  Although I am in a dream, I do not feel like I’m dreaming.  A young boy comes up to me from out of the blue.  Without skipping a beat, I continue talking to him as my son.  He tells me about school and what he is learning.  We have a fun conversation about playful things.  I share with him how my life is.  He then runs off telling me he needs to head back to school. As he is leaving, I remind him how much I love him.

I then resume talking to the man who is sitting next to me.  I tell him how my dreams reveal my son.  I struggle to describe what I have experienced in all its fullness.  You have to be present to fully appreciate the magic.  Once again I feel silly believing the man will question my sanity.

In that moment from out of the blue a young boy appears to hand me a chocolate.  The chocolate is wrapped in an orange shinny tin foil paper with crinkled edges.  I open it to find a hand written note inside.   Reading the note, I recognize it as something I have written.  In that moment the universe opens up as my awareness expands.  I am fully aware of the dream and the magnitude of what it presents.  I am in a dream yet I am awake.  I experience synchronicity and deja-vu in the dream as in my waking life.  Knowing this is my opportunity to see my son’s face,  I take a good look wanting to know if he bears any resemblance to me.  I am surprised to find that he is the same person as the λλale Carrier from my previous dream where I asked him if he had any male for me.

 

λλale Carrier

λs I was drifting off to sleep.  I begλn to see beautiful spiraling strands of light pulsating through the ethers.  It reminds me of the heavens where Angels dance.  Their density increases as the strands begin to take form.  Cartoon like images appear and take form as they cluster together.  I can see cells form forming tubules that gather in stands of tubules which began forming a mesh that then enveloped me to carry me off as if in a worm hole.

I then find myself at work.  I feel I have a bone to pick with my co-workers.  I somewhat know I am in a dream cocky in my attitude and with mandate in hand.  I am determined to find what I am looking for.  I WANT THE TRUTH.  I want to know what has been hidden from me and why I have been made to struggle to find it.  I can see the people working in their respective office spaces.  Each has a role to play.  There is a science about it with precision and certainty.  I know my job here to be one in communications.  I study the setup I have in place.  I know it intimately for I am the one who set it up.  The overlords  have been using my equipment to their benefit and withholding information.  I want clarity.  I want transparency.  I see a woman in her cubicle who shares a wall with me.  She is not aware or possibly she is aware but hiding the fact that she knows I am overlooking.  She works to decipher the communication on the wire.  She inconspicuously looks through a post card that serves a dual purpose.  One of concealment and the other of insight.  Used in combination with her computer she is able to decipher the transmission on the wire.   λs I eavesdrop through the transparency of the post card she holds I clearly perceive the hidden strands.  They are not unlike the stands which brought me here when I entered the dream portal.

I know I must press forward.  I leave my cube and enter the main area of this section of the pod where I work.  There is a mobile mail station at a junction point.  Assuming if I work here I must have mail being addressed to me at this location.  I look at the many mail slots on the mobile station not knowing what name I work under.  I can’t seem to find my mail.  The λλale Carrier approaches from the right junction and looks at me.  With authority,  I ask him to hand me my male.   He then asks, “Who are you?”.  Taking a chance, I answer, Ruben Bailey.  I add a clarifying statement and disclose I often don’t pick up mail here so it may have been backlogged.  He then answers, “I’m not aware of any male.” but hands me several flyers which he is delivering to all employees.  I pause somewhat disappointed yet knowing any information received is the next clue and its more than what I had when I arrived.  I am empowered to change. Turning inward, I glance at the flyers and look around to see what is within my control to change.  The flyers indicate there is a ωelcome πeception today.  I move forward to excuse myself with the young λλale Carrier end enter the restricted space where the ωelcome Party is being held.  There are λliens here and I am aboard a space ship which has just landed.  I can clearly see out the windows of the çraft.  I move to a position where I see clearly.  The windows are full length floor to ceiling in 360 degrees all the way around around çraft.  There are so many λliens here who look very different from humans.  I am unafraid yet a bit overwhelmed by their numbers.  I reach beyond any fear and wave in their direction letting then know I have arrived.

Knowing my time is limited, I return to my duties to see what changes I can make to give me an edge with the overlords.  I know they need me for their business.  I also know they can’t do it without me.  They rely on me to harvest the fruit of my labor.  I sit and ponder how I might effect a paradigm shift to better harmonize with my desire and intent.  I play the scenarios to determine their possible outcomes and come to the decision to leave things as they are and take no action.

When i woke up I looked at my phone and noticed my niece had sent me a message.  It became the image of the dream.  It seemed fitting for this dream.

CEDELIA craft = 3- Self-expression, Joy of Living, Creativity, Perfection. Art, Inspiration, Enthusiasm, Perfection, Spiritual-Physical Connection, Communication and Triad Paradigm.
Positive Traits
On the positive side, the energy attributes of the number three resonates with love demonstration, creative imagination, fulfillment, encouragement, and talent. It’s also related to culture, innovative skills, wit, pleasure, freedom-seeking, adventure, free-form, brilliance, non-confrontational, natural rhythm, self-expression, enthusiasm, psychic ability, holy triad knowledge (heaven-human-earth, father-son-holy spirit, past-present-future, thought-word-action). The number three resonates with the energies of the Ascended Masters and their guidance. Three also resonates with expression both artistic (writing, painting, singing, sculpture, etc.) as well as feelings (love, affection, friendship, etc.)
Negative Traits
On the negative side, the number three resonates with indifference through superiority, lack of concentration or focus.

My Mother’s Name Is Penny

Last night I had a dream.  I receive in the mail a postcard addressed to a woman who does not live in my house.  The woman lives in Washington State whereas I live in Washington, DC.  It is addressed to the organization she represents in care of her.   My attention is drawn to the name of her organization, “The Foundation of Pennies” which is similar in name to my website “Penny For My Thought.” 

 

The next day again I receive another postcard addresses to the Foundation in care of this woman who I don’t know.  Each card I receive gives me a small clue as to the nature of the business she represents.  Over the next few days I continue receiving mail for this woman.  In my curiosity to find out more about the Foundation and it’s similarity in name to mine, I decide to open her mail.  Slowly but surely through the opened correspondences, I learn more about the woman without having ever met her.  I learn that she is a lesbian who is an advocate for gay, lesbian and transgender issues.  Some of her mail contains newspaper clippings with photographs of her at various events.  

 

One day I receive a package that contains a video tape documentary which tells all about the work the woman is involved in for the Foundation.  As I’m watching the documentary I hear a knock at the door.  It is a special delivery addressed to this woman.  I immediately sign for the package and in walks a little boy.  This is her son.  He is cute around the age of seven.  Since he sees me watching his mom on television he settles in to my house without questioning where he has been sent or that he might have been sent to the wrong address.  I think, now I’m really in trouble.  How do I explain to the boy or any other authorities my behavior of having opened mail that does not belong to me?  I’m sure it is a felony to do so.  I want to keep the child along with all the mail I’ve already opened because I am fascinated by the life this woman leads.  I’m worried that I would be accused of kidnapping the child even though he was rightfully delivered to my home.  For a few days, I say nothing to the boy as he remains happily in my care. 

 

Finally I decide to ask him about his mother.  He tells me his mother’s name is Penny.  I then tell him that he was delivered to the wrong address and I confess that I don’t personally know his mother.  He then shows me the envelope that came with his delivery which he had maintained in his pants pocket.  The envelope is sealed and addressed to me.  In it are a collection of postage stamps and a letter signed by Penny.  I now have the impression this was all done for a reason.  

foun·da·tion
Function: noun
Date: 14th century
1: the act of founding
2: a basis (as a tenet, principle, or axiom) upon which something stands or is supported <the foundations of geometry> <the rumor is without foundation in fact>
3 a: funds given for the permanent support of an institution : endowment b: an organization or institution established by endowment with provision for future maintenance
4: an underlying base or support ; especially : the whole masonry substructure of a building
5 a: a body or ground upon which something is built up or overlaid b: a woman’s supporting undergarment : corset c: a cosmetic usually used as a base for makeup

FUTURE REFERENCES: A Family By Choice