"Two idiots, a loop, and a dream."

“It’s the journey that matters, soak it in. Learn lessons out of it. Impact positively so that if you never get to your destination, at least you’d leave a legacy to be remembered.”— Emem Uko

The smell of dust, old books, and salt water bellows in-between the stacks of that lonesome library. On the shelves are large, leather-bound books, though there isn’t a popular name or title among them, and upon inspection, there seems to be few words at all on their covers and spines.

“Each book is a story,” An unfamiliar voice echoes through the chamber. “It can be just an idea, a lesson, or an experience. All important. All interconnected.”

At the end of the long passageway created in the negative space of the stacks, perched on a wooden chair that looks out a cathedral-styled window. A woman in purple robes taps a pen against her bottom lip.

“The Mysterium is a puzzle to be solved.”

For those that don’t know me, I am Saga, the self-proclaimed oracle of the astral construct, The Mysterium (essentially what I’m labeling my “astral temple” for lack of a better term). Within this journal you will find a sneak peak of some of the projects I’m working on (research into concepts, etc.), lessons I’ve learned, and personal anecdotes of the mundane and esoteric variety.

As I mentioned in my introduction, I belong to no specific structure of thinking and have an interest in a variety of concepts and practices. I especially enjoying understanding the stories behind different mythos and comparing practices. At the end of this journey, through ascension, I hope to reach my ultimate goal of understanding the true narrative of the universe and those that we cannot see with our physical eyes.

Before I get started into the current day things, I’ll share background information around my journey into the occult and the dream timeline, so those who read this journal aren’t lost with some of my later posts.


In this journal, you’ll find:

  • Summaries of my Magnum Opus: “The Dream Timeline” and its subsequent fiction novel “The Infernal Apocrypha” (title to be finalized)
  • Personal experiences with spirits
  • A narrative of my relationship with a spiritual entity referred to as “Mysterious”
  • Life lessons that I’ve learned that sharpened my craft or contributed to my overall growth

A Lesson in Humility

TAGS: Life Lessons, Higher Education, Personal Opinion

“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.” ― Socrates

A Rant about Higher Education

I was enticed by their beautiful buildings and promise of a wealth of knowledge that I could sip from at my leisure. As always, once I found myself in the embrace of their brick buildings and under their cautious thumbs, I discovered that I was deceived.

Mysterious told me, amid my internal turmoil about the true desire to further my education, that I—once again—had unrealistic expectations. I challenged his statement as we sat in the admissions building that hot afternoon, feet heavy from the long journey that brought me here from the last week. Maybe I had unrealistic expectations, but if my expectations are unreasonable, then I fear the direction that we are heading in academia. The only expectation I had was, though likely unrealistic, that I would join an institution of higher learning and join great thinkers. I did not find that in college.

“I’m just saying that you keep expecting people to be you, when they clearly are not.”

It proved my point, really. The point that seemed demonstrated was one which led me to believe I made the wrong decision in coming here. The week before, in the middle of a class that would be the foundations for my major, my professor told me: “We try not to see the difference between experience and ‘book smarts.’ If you make the distinction, you are then creating a hierarchy of intelligence, which we don’t want.”

For context, I challenged my professor—maybe not a smart move. It boggled my mind at the time that we muddied the waters between wisdom and intelligence. We were reading The Journey of the Magi by T.S. Elliot, one which elevated my understanding (through reading) of the experience and joy of struggling the tough journeys of life alone, like my piece The Hermit and the Stag. The professor argued that though the entire journey was the catalyst for this new appreciation in life, the magi were not considered wise men because of their experience but based alone on their intelligence. Maybe I care too much about stupid things, but the argument baffled me.

The debate continued down the lines of the difference between experiential and traditional learning. My argument was that I could read about the experience of a marginalized group, maybe even consider myself an expert in the space based on my studies, but I couldn’t truly comprehend their struggles and experiences because I didn’t live their experiences. That led to the claim by the professor above, and I found myself dumbfounded in the front row of the class, being told I’m wrong in my thinking.

It’s the second time that this has happened since I’ve been in the institution, and I sometimes wonder if it’s just me that’s the problem.

I don’t mind being wrong. I’m wrong all the time, but if you’re going to claim that I’m wrong—have some damn good evidence to support your stance. As someone who has had 12 years of real-world experience in “the real world” (as I’ll call it), there hasn’t been a single situation where someone has chosen an individual over me because they have a degree instead of my breadth of experience. Ever.

As a hiring manager, I’ve hired individuals who look great on paper, some even decorated as academic scholars, but when I throw them in the real world to utilize that “intelligence” they have, they don’t perform as well as my employees that have more experience. Yet, my professor argues now that they are the same.

The people in my above example are not the same.

Of course, this is my own personal belief, and I don’t believe in generalizing. There are, I’m sure, some individuals who are great without experience and perform just as well, but I know that the “real world” does a lot of generalizing. If you know that and use it to your advantage, you can be successful. It’s how I was successful.

Does that make it right? No.

Is that reality? That’s been my experience.

Of course, this is limited to my own neck of the woods, in spaces that I’ve occupied. Obviously, this isn’t the same for professions like medical industries or for “realities” outside of the States, as I can’t speak to those. I can only speak for what I know, which is that this “pipe-dream” you’re selling to youths in my neck of the woods isn’t reality, and if that is one of the core beliefs of the institution, we are not culturally compatible.

I tried to think about why this was the case, and my mother made a wonderful point: “They are in the business of making money off of kids that think they have to get a college degree, what you suggest challenges that.”

It was then that I thought about Socrates and his quest to find someone wiser than himself and prove the oracle wrong. Did he feel that same emotion when he found that these ‘wise men’ weren’t wise at all? Did Socrates anguish at the possibility the oracle might be right? Sure, his quest gave him meaning, but what was the cost? Maybe this feeling is what many others experience when joking about how they’ve lost their faith in humanity.

Maybe it’s arrogance to make the comparison of my experience to that of Socrates, but I’ve met many amazing individuals outside of academia that taught me more than any institution could have, and it is through that which I have found myself experiencing this solemn disappointment. I expected from beginning to end this to be an experience of learning for its own sake, improving myself as an individual and “joining the great thinkers.”

What a joke.

Now that I’ve stepped out of academia and returned, disappointed, to “the status quo,” I hope to work more on my content here and in the future.



TAGS: Reflection

I told myself that his face would haunt me for the rest of my life.

There are few faces or moments that are burned into my memory.

  • The first is the feeling of the cold floor when I attempted to take my life in 2006.
  • The second is the moment of hysteria after a near-fatal car crash I was a passenger in back in 2011.
  • The third was when they shown Mal to me at the family viewing in 2013.
  • The fourth was my husband’s father lying dead in the emergency room last week.

I was rarely disturbed by death, but there is something unnerving about someone dying with their eyes open, mouth agape from the intubation tube. They didn’t even clean him up before we saw him, and even after the funeral that image surfaces in my mind when I’m not careful.

It’s not how I’d like to remember B.

I often find myself sitting back looking at my life, then am in awe of how many experiences I’ve had, survived, and grew from. There are many people out there that I’m sure say the same, humbled by the experience of living.

Standing in the vacant house on Saturday afternoon, a song from long ago came to mind.


My condolences :bouquet:


I’m sorry for your loss.


Thank you both.

I remain positive that, because he was very, very sick for a long time and truly wanted to move onto the next life, he’s doing much better than he was when he was among us.


I am working on my next mystic/philosophy piece for the forum, and this came up in my journal’s login screen today:

“While we are living, our lives are like that of an open book, still being written. Eventually, our book closes for us, and to others, it will be as if we never existed at all. Those of us who write down our life story, will leave a little piece of us behind when we’re gone.”

— Nina Jean Slack

Sometimes I worry that I’m falling into the “social media pitfall” when sharing my personal experiences and just telling myself it’s for posterity and the reference of someone who–maybe someday–can use my work to solve their own mysteries.

I take the quote as a nudge from the universe on this very terrible day to tell me: “Just keep going.


Life is a draft, never a finished book, according Sabato’s “El Túnel”. And they linger after we’re gone. A man’s deed won’t be erased, nor from the world nor from memory, on the day of this death. And if you’re super awesome like Plato, people will still argue about you thousands of year after you’re gone.


Imagine being famous for Socrates fanfiction.


Imaging being Socrates, refusing to write (except one poem to Apollo) and then getting your buddy/student/lover to write about you, forcing the world to know your name!



Then being so mad that the Athenians are jerks and coming to conclusion that suicide is the only answer.

…… that last part feels too familiar to 2021 saga right there.


A Curse for a Lineage

Once, a long time ago, someone prophesied to me that I had a curse on me from my mother (as in she was the original target and I inherited it for some reason). This was close enough to my own theory I believed it was true. Went on and did all these cleansing things and received no results–realized that this “curse” may not be as advertised.

I have spent time meditating and working on the dream timeline trying to find this answer. Interesting enough, I had a dream last night about this “curse” that comes down through a lineage.


The dream took place in a parlor room of a large estate. Off of this parlor room was a library, and from its center there was a spiral, marble staircase that led into the family catacombs.

Our POV is at first from myself. I was speaking with my supposed mother in the room. We were arguing about a curse.

Magic then brought two women up from the mausoleum. This was my grandmother and great grandmother.

My grandmother and great-grandmother, respectively, brought to life by Artbreeder.

It appears they returned to council my mother, specifically on how I am aligned with [Mysterious].

“The one who put this curse on our family, she sides with him!” My great grandmother gasps. She wears a grown of jewels on her head.

Both women are in flowing, white gowns with tulle and satin. They appear very elegant. The POV pans where we are now seeing things in third person. My hair is back in a ponytail and I wear similar armor to [Mysterious]. Purple appears to be the colors of his (family/estate?).

“This is no time for kindness, girl.” My grandmother hands me a sword. “You must defeat him to lift this curse from our family.”

The three rush me out of the room, and we return to our original POV from my first person. I stand out on a balcony that overlooks a courtyard of our large estate. I can see Mysterious’s home across the valley, separate by a large river and forest. I feel sick about this.

It fades.

I am leading our army to fight Mysterious. I ride a white horse swiftly towards his estate, others close behind. My armor is now black, though the same shape as before. In my thoughts, I know he will have a military of his own waiting for us.

I do not see what happens next.

I am not surprised. During the Goetia challenge, I woke to hear someone talking about “my choosing of [Mysterious]” when I woke up the next morning. I’m unsure if it’s related. I also had other dreams around the curse that he put on the family.

There are two possibilities that come to mind:

  • The curse is blight
  • The curse is a generic “your life is terrible and you lose everything” curse

That doesn’t mean it is one of those two, but those are the two I am pondering the most.


Pandora’s Box

“Knowing the truth is a double-edged sword, Alex. The closer you get to your answers, the less you’ll really know. I can give you a taste of who I really am, but it will never be enough. You’ll always want more. They always do.”

He never told me about the part where I’d get close to the answer, become extremely uncomfortable, and then have to step away from the research.

Mysterious’s words echoed through my mind as I stared at the timeline. I expected the abyss to be a black hole of living darkness, devouring everything in its grasp. Instead, it is a collection of dreams that tear at every part of my life. I made reference to the event horizon in previous journal entries, suggesting to myself that I did cross that threshold. I foolishly never understood the reality of what that meant. You can’t unsee things, as those cringe internet meme comment sections tell us online.

I expected that “the moment” would be some serendipitous realization, when everything comes together and makes sense and I’m given some divine secret. Despite what I tell myself, sometimes my brain slips and forgets this isn’t a movie. That moment wasn’t monumental, nor was it magical. The event horizon was pulling on a thread and realizing that all of those different colors of string were all tied together, and in that single moment realizing that in chasing hidden truths “for funzies” you reach the uncomfortable moment when you see all sorts of things are interconnected.

Symbols. Stories. Experiences.

It’s never the person or the experience in a vacuum. It’s the meaning of the thing, just like in magic–it’s the intention that is the magic. Not the tools. Not the stories. Not the symbols. It’s the meaning.

My brain immediately went to “it’s the implication” and now I can’t unhear that in my monologue. Can’t take myself too seriously around here.

On a positive, I am closing in on the answers, with great clarity coming to the story that was hidden deep within the dreams. This feeling is similar to one I had as a child, when I stood off the back patio of my grandparents’ home and looked up at the stars. I felt so small, aware of how minute I was in the grand scheme of the universe. It’s kinda strange to feel that way in your immediate, personal story, but I am reminded of a line I read in the Lucifer comic when I was going through a phase two or three years ago:

“Actually, what I wanted to do was explain. It must have seemed CRAZY to you, everything I did. But when you hear the whole story… it all makes sense. sort of. Not that it’s my story, you understand. I mean, I’m in it, but I know damn well that none of this was about me. It’s more like I got to close to his story, and then I couldn’t get out of the gravity well.”

Sounded way less crazy in my head as I wrapped my mind around the latest story arc in the timeline, but man–just had to shout that out into the void (and let you guys know I’m not dead–yet.)


The Mythical, Phantasmal, and Allegorical

If I had to speak on the number of hours I’ve spent working on my craft, my novel, my dream timeline, and my research, I think an entire life would summarize it. We are, yet again, at the top of the mountain looking down, wondering how we got here.

It pleases me to note that I am at the point of the dream timeline where all of the disparate systems of categorization and logging have narrowed down to two. I thought I completed this exercise once before, but it’s worth mentioning that the exercise I did complete was half-assed and literally had to be completely redone.

For anyone interested in what I’ve been up to all hours of my life up until this point (between my on-and-off divorce, chaotic work life, and solving many problems for myself and others):

The Dream Timeline

"You will toil. Our ancestors toiled. It is our shared story."

Summary title from a post by u/MysticalMagicorn on Reddit.

I started this version of the dream timeline, which I will call version 1.0 for lack of a better understanding of just HOW MANY VERSIONS we’ve gone through at this point, in 2009. I’ve been collecting the dreams for years, but never understood major timeline events until that point in the collection.

Knew they were connected, but all I had was puzzle pieces. Around 2009 I started to get some corners and edges, but they were sporadic until recent years. Once the larger segments came through and contextual evidence was provided to previously misunderstood segments, I realized I had–for the most part–all the edges I needed to start putting together the full picture.

As of February 23, 2023, I am almost there, and the prospect is terrifying.

I have worked for what feels like most of my life to get to this point, and I’ve changed substantially as a result of my esoteric works and the timeline. This is what we’ve all been waiting for: Mysterious, myself, family members, friends… This finish line has been a long awaited one, and I’m excited, but scared.

My original, unspoken fears were that I’d get to the end of the story and Mysterious was the villain the whole time and he’s been playing the long con. I still find myself wondering sometimes if it could be said that what Baal said is true, but I understand that the waters are murky for reasons I don’t entirely understand yet.

I was never good at politics.

My new fear is this: what will happen when I have this answer I’ve been fixated on for decades?

In the grand scheme of things, nothing will change, I will still be me in this house, with these dogs, with this job, with these problems… but what cathartic release will be waiting for the last period on the last page. I shed so many selves and dreams along the journey towards some “higher purpose” in my self-education, and I’ll be forever learning, but the weight will be lifted. I will have an answer I have been so desperately trying to find.

Mysterious said it’s a double edged sword, so I anticipate its sting, but not how deep the cut will be. I already feel somewhat alienated from my current life, and the final cut will likely trigger some change within me and how I view the box, though completely powerless to do anything about it.

So we wait. We yearn. We toil. The truth comes on its own time, not when we desire or expect it, and it takes years to chip away at the personal truth. May it be worth all the time and trouble I’ve invested into finding out what is the dream timeline?

Obligatory Rant, Lessons Learned


I must mention the importance of doing 1 whole-ass thing. This entire two weeks I have been dauntingly copying my dream notes from the ORIGINAL DIGITAL FILES kept in Excel and OneNote to AeonTimeline. If you find yourself wanting to undertake the meticulous documentation methods I’ve undertaken and think you may have your own dream timeline, I have a few words of advice for you:

1. Have a system and stick to it.

I have cursed and thrown things and LOST MY MIND over this brain-numbing task these past few weeks. Yet, it was one of the single most important exercises I’ve undertaken in this last leg because my stupid ass left ENTIRE DREAM SEGMENTS OUT during migration that were CRITICAL to the timeline.

Some these fragments include character deaths and family migrations across the HMP. Answers I have been searching for literally right in front of me though untouched because of the disconnect that I didn’t know was there. (It is extremely hard to keep up with over 5000 fragments of dreams. Ya gotta have a system.)

I spoke of my system before, and after many renditions (which caused the confusion and missing files) I realized that this one works the best:

This is the best one. I’m calling it. I added additional appendixes and new segment nomenclature and it. was. chaos. Not worth it.

Understand Your Important Data

Keep some sort of dictionary for symbols, characters, objects of importance, etc. Just do it. It’s extra work, but when you get up to the level that I have in collection numbers, you don’t want to have to go back and tag everything with important shit.

Have the right tools.

You don’t have to have tools to do magic, but you do for DATA magic. Don’t work hard, work smart. That’s all.

If you are into timelining/storytelling and want a comprehensive tool that keeps up with EVERYTHING, you want AeonTimeline 3 (and for actual writing, Scrivener). Trust me, I’ve tried everything and wound up back on Scrivener every time–never strayed from AeonTimeline, they are too good to me.

Note to self:

  • Thank Mysterious
  • Fight Mysterious
  • Fight Myself
  • Drink Tequila
  • Finish the timeline

Saga of the past or future, if you read this–I hate you… … …for all the times you’ve half-assed done something. So much data and time lost.


Something worth noting to anyone else. You’re gonna get things wrong. That’s ok, just try your best and it will almost always work out (EDIT EDIT: Maybe not in your favor but if you tried your best and it didn’t work out you probably weren’t meant to do that thing anyway).