“A dream ain’t over ’til I say so.” – Ken Sheetz AKA Agent Smith
I dream this morning that I am in a training camp for psychic warriors of the Shift. I swim in the left lane bedside three other students in a roped off area of the Pacific Ocean near Hawaii. Logs block the path of our swim lanes. All four of we swimmers of spirit easily manage to turn the logs to open our lanes with our minds. We all keep swimming steadily forward through the intricate oceanic obstacle course. Dolphins cheer us on doing stunts and squeak calls.
A submarine surfaces, blocking my swim lane. “Part of the test?” I wonder to the other swimmers.
“I don’t think so.” says a young woman about my age. I’m seventeen in this dream. The age I train and become life guard in Milwaukee, where I save 17 kids in real life.
The sub turret guns spin for us. I realize the enemy is out to kill we young psychic warriors before we can complete our training. I hold forth a hand from the ocean and will the sub to lift from the sea. “It’s huge. Bigger than I can lift!” I shout to the other three students.
“You can do it, Ken! Raise it from the sea and crush it like a clam shell,” shouts the young beauty with hair as red as the rocks of Sedona.
I strain with all my might but I am only able to lift the bow of the sub from the sea. “Too big!” I shout, happy now at least the sub’s guns can’t target us. But I am not sure how long I can keep us safe from the malevolent nuclear sub.
SLEEPLESS IN SEDONA
I awake from the dream in Sedona in a light sweat. I realize it’s not a dream. It’s a repressed memory coming to the surface. I close my eyes and I see Morpheus smile at me. “Welcome back to Sedona, Agent Smith,” the gap toothed Morpheus congratulates me.
Morpheus is referring to a dinner I had yesterday in Sedona, after a lovely tour, where I was photographer for Patrick Flanagan and his wife Stephanie Sutton,of PhiSciences, whose newlywed niece was visiting with her Italian husband and best man from Italy. I explain over salad I used to be so deep in the Matrix before leaving Chicago real estate to be a Hollywood filmmaker, that the character I most related to from the film trilogy, THE MATRIX, was Agent Smith. Stephanie and Patrick are both shocked I was such a super asshole in my real estate mogul days in the 80s and 90s. We all get a big laugh of joy about my transformation to an enlightened filmmaker.
My escape from the Matrix accelerated to light speed after witnessing ET angelic like beings build the DreamShield for human ascension and protection in Italy in May of 2010. The Dreamshield is a profound instrument made of a combination of Gaia’s energies and our collective consciousness as her children, then ignited by ETs. This elevated earth from a slave planet to a protected world under Galactic Treaty commencing 1.1.11.
My adult kids are still freaked out by the amazing story of the DreamShield and have not spoken to me in over two years since I shared seeing 7 foot tall blue ET angels in Italy. Stephanie explains my wonderful son and daughter are deep in the Matrix and their reaction of brain shut-down is typical. Steph gives me hope that none of my kids’ distancing is really personal.
I am honored to be one of many custodians of the DreamShield, under its many names and guises. No ego. No high priests allowed. After the exhausting meditation event of 12.12.12. in Antarctica, still #1 on Google search for “coolest meditation ever”, 2013 has been a year of profound healing for me in Sedona with Patrick and Stephanie.
What more wonders await me and the DreamShield, which I recently learned is the same name Navajo shamans give to their shield on which the project their visions to share with the tribe. Sounds a lot like what I’ve done for the past 18 years; a Hollywood filmmaker sharing my visions on movie, TV and computer screens with my tribe, you.
WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED DREAM
My inner Morpheus is a very real, like all imaginary characters we come to love. He’s a paradoxical guide born of one of my favorite movies. “Use what you learned from the Shaman in LA, finish the dream of the sub,” Morpheus advises me.
I concentrate on returning to the dream, only now I am the master I am today at 60, not a 17-year-old in training. With ease and grace I levitate the sub from the ocean into the air. “Gotta save the crew before I wreck the sub,” I say to the young swimmer who is now a mature beauty.
“Nice,” she says as I life the sub over to the beach and twist it onto its side. “Everyone off the ship who wants to live.”
Sailors leap and fall into the sandy beach from the sub. I will the floating sub to shake a few times and the last sailors run off into the jungle realizing they are no match for these four masters.
I toss the sub into the sky. I fly from the ocean after it. The sub’s hull burns red-hot from the air friction. Then, exiting earth’s atmosphere, the sub cools. I see a debris field being brought for earth by rogue aliens breaking the Galactic Treaty that made earth a protected world on December 31, 2010. These stubborn forces of the dark energy have not given up.
At dinner yesterday Stephanie Sutton spoke of a dark cloud of debris from that would create three days of darkness and death upon our world. I realize in this meditation my mission is to wipe out that illegal spaceship towing the debris for our world. The creepy ship’s sensor’s pick me and the sub up. They feel safe behind the debris field. A mistake.
I form a force field about the nuclear sub and hurl it like a missile through the debris field of tiny asteroids. I am too fast. The hostile alien ship explodes and its tractor beam with it. With a blast of super breath I send the debris sailing for the sun.
Mission accomplished I return to my body in Sedona and fall back to sleep.
LONG NIGHT’S WORK FOR AGENT SMITH
I awake from the DreamShield meditation inside a dream. I sit up in bed surrounded by fellow prisoners. I am Agent Smith, but I retain all my memories of this life as Ken Sheetz. I calmly check myself over. I am in a black prison outfit and I know this is “The Matrix” prison for our minds.
The prison is vast and high-tech. Rather than bars, our cells are all clear plexiglass. I walk to the balcony and watch as guards herd the zombie like prisoners to breakfast.
I step off the 3 story high balcony and fall for the prison floor like a rock. I feel no fear. I know my power. I am here to free minds. Just before I reach the prison floor my momentum stops on a dime.
A shocked guard raises a weapon. “Agent Smith? Stand down!”
With a slight curl of my palm the guard’s Uzi flies from his grip to mine. Mercilessly, unlike the me in mediation that spared the sub crew, I toss his body like a toothpick across the vast hall. He falls screaming to his death.
Agent Smith has no mercy. Guard after guard meet their Matrix makers as I stride through the vast prison floor, a one man chaos field of death and destruction.
An advanced SWAT guard to my left gets a drop on me and fires. Too slow. I hold out a hand and his bullets turn to harmless gold water. I fire my Uzi and it sprays high-powered water that knock him out.
At last I reach the clear foot thick walls of the prison. An army of prisoners are behind me, anxious for freedom. I will the vast clear vault door to slide open when a Redline subway train chatters up to the prison platform, full of new prisoners for brainwashing.
Train guards spot the prison riot and take up firing positions. A guard yanks a female hostage from the train. I stop opening the prison door as he tosses the young woman into the prison through the small opening I have made. I see the young lady is my daughter.
“Janelle?” I say as she runs to my arms.
“Yes, Dad. You have to stop. You’re hurting a lot of people.”
As I hold my daughter she is shifting in age, a teen, 30, a baby.
“Sweetie, that’s the Matrix talking. I am freeing people not hurting.” I say feeling the wind going out of my psychic sails.
“Look at all the dead guards,” says my age shifting daughter, her forms of her whole life flashing in rapid succession.
I see mothers with young kids on picnic blankets who look at me like a killer. My daughter’s tears make me cry too.
THE DREAM AIN’T OVER UNTIL I SAY SO
I awake in deep frustration. The Matrix is a bitch to escape, even for Agent Smith. But I head for breakfast feeling hopeful I at least found my daughter.
I will continue this dream later as I was taught in 2011 by a powerful Hollywood shaman. It’s the best thing I’ve ever learned about managing bad dreams. Dreams ain’t over until we say. I will free my daughter and the world from the Matrix just the way I wiped out a hostile alien ship last night.
I love protecting my world and the fact few believe I do. Heck, I don’t need a secret identity to be a super hero! Genius these ETs who guide my missions. Please, enjoy this as simple fiction writing if you wish. It’s cool camouflage for me if you think that all this is. Pay no attention this “Agent Smith” gone good behind the curtain.
I have so many more cosmic adventures ahead! The ETs say I must live another 48 years guarding the earth for the Shift to take hold. Earth manifests new reality planet wide at the speed of the growing tree, about 50 years I was told in 2012. Today I just found the time to research what kind of trees mature at that rate. Answer according to Google, our modern oracle? Pine tress. I have adored pines all my life. I have even written a 2002 screenplay called THE LAST PINE about Xmas from the POV of pine trees. And the symbol for the pineal glade and sacred symbol is the pine tree. Confirmation!
I am being literally rebuilt in Sedona to last at least another 50 years by Patrick Flanagan’s life enhancing PhIScience‘s longevity products. None of this was planned by me or Patrick. It’s divine synchronicity at full power. And Patrick’s reward is that the ETs of DreamShield are downloading him nightly with new discoveries that I am told will lead to human immortality. How cool it that?
Maintaining the DreamShield is sacred. I am on the case like an Agent Smith of the light, keeping it cool to free your mind.