Authors note. This little treat is for those who like to over eat but also for those who like to squashed and those who like to squash. Enjoy.
I will start this story with detailed experiences in my childhood I came from two families of metaphysical abilities.. I had some extra abilities that I had no idea were extra abilities.
On my mother’s side was the Te Tunga Te Whenua of Aotearoa. In European words they were Maori of New Zealand. My family line was powerful for even Maori people, I will carry on using the English words but the translation of the Te Reo (the indigenous people language) is “The people of the Land”. Aotearoa means the long dawn but some people call it the land of the long white cloud. Basically, they arrived on a foggy day and it would have got another name if they came later on when it was bright, sunny and warm.
Now I am mocking what I am saying as it implies that these sea ferrying race came to an unoccupied Islands. This was not true as the country already had occupants.
One of the tenants was called the Mori Hori. They had bright red hair, peaceful without knowledge of bullying people. They lived here with other races in harmony. Another race here was the Early Maya, and this was my bloodline. We arrived about 500 BC and set up the culture we had in Belize, Honduras and Guatemala.
It is important for my story to remember we were the Early Maya and not the Classic Maya. Classic Maya had their high level of living with the gods but we were more clued up on 'up and coming' events. We had knowledge levels like the Middle East Sumerians.
My ancestors were here for over 1,000 when the Maori arrived. We had written records of the arrival of Polynesians from before when we left the Americas. There was one very clear message and that was to assimilate into waring people culture to survive, which meant losing our Identity. We warned the Mori Hori but they foolishly wanted to remain an individual race. The Maori went cannibal on them, decimating the race to the point that the remainder fled to the Chatham Islands to live.
The Maori seeing our submission and cooperation did not go so barbaric on my ancestors and even kept parts of Identity in records. These are stored in the Far North Marae. They renamed us Ngata Kuri. This is because the journey to New Zealand had a stop in Australia where a Dog now called Dingo were picked up and farmed like sheep for food. Ngata Kuri translate to the dog people.
In order for the Maori to claim to be the Indigenous they recorded us as earlier arrivals but neglected to say that we were Latin American and not Polynesian. The record says the early arrivals of Maori and them as the main arrivals.
In the hybrid race came several powerful healers. Some I have great respect for, as they were decent people. Unfortunately, my Family Line came from an Arrogant Tohunga (Witch Doctor) who started his own cult. He was referred to as a Prophet for his extreme metaphysical healing abilities but he was a self-important instead of humble.
He called the cult after himself Ratana and as a cult leader he took dark privileges. One of these was what some called ‘Wife Stealing’. He actually bedded a woman and the husband had to feel privilege that it was Ratana doing his wife.
Ratana was feared because just as easily he healed; the lame, blind and death, he gave blindness and other disabilities to those who challenge him. He did things in the glory of Ratana and not in the service of mankind. If a Maori were damaged in battle, after healing him, he would take payment of nearly everything the person had.
This nasty but in some ways helpful man was my Great Grand Father by illegitimate way (Rape in my words). I like my mother and grandmother inherited his metaphysical abilities.
My father’s side were no slouch in abilities. His side was French Aristocracy, which contained no abilities but during the French Revolution but were transported to Scotland by the Scarlet Pimpernel. There we got to mix it up with Ancient Druid Blood. The druid had their own connections to the gods, cosmos and other realms. My brothers and sister got the blend of metaphysical powers.
My oldest brother had died from a rheumatic fever as a child had a good grasp of working with the spirit world all his life. He died again at the age of 58 years old after the doctors insisted his heart was so damaged, he would not make it to his 11th birthday. None of his friends made it to 10 years old.
He kept bringing people back when they suffered massive strokes or dying of cancer etcetera. This was not always a good thing. When my sister was 17 she has a massive stroke from medication given by a doctor. Initially she recovered physically but never mentally. She had always used her abilities to dodge her blame in a lot of naughty behaviours. The guilt took the toll and she physically became disable until she was in a wheel chair.
My sister played representative Soft Ball and Netball. She was active right up to the stroke but she also stole money and used her ability to cover her tracks. She even stole from the Salvation Army and they could not prove it apart from the theft stopped when she was absent. The stroke that was meant to have killed her; at the age of 17 finally ended after her 55 birthday, and then, it was tobacco smoking followed by vapping that actually killed her.
My older brother who was healthy all his life died from cancer at the age of 50. He was an orchardist working with sprays so there was work hazards that could have contribute. He spent his life in denial of the metaphysical world but on his deathbed, suddenly said he believed in all of it.
I had two younger brothers that did not make it to school years. One drowned at Tangimoana Beach and the other was in the pram when a wayward drunk driver struck him and my mother.
Being of Maori blood and in the sixties, television was not here yet my parents had two more children. One married a catholic girl and only uses metaphysic in secrecy and the other is a small farm owner on the East Coast.
With the stories I tell I always add a lot of true facts about myself and push in some pure fantasy. The true facts I repeat in my other stories. I will carry on my childhood tales with the facts as a child I enjoyed the compression on of my abdomen.
It was the age of 5 that I figured how to use the heavy bed legs in the workers dorms on the farm. The worker’s hut was only occupied at peak times, as work was seasonal. A large part of the year they sleep outs were empty. They had bunk beds made from 4-inch (100 mm) square Totara wood. They weight 75 kilograms, which was the weight of average male. At the age of 5 I had found the way to lift the legs high enough into the air and squash down onto my belly. There was a discarded bucket made of Alloy that I would put over the square end spreading the weight over my abdomen.
I was not taking the entire 75 kilograms but with the twisting action of the frame it was more the quarter (18 kilograms or 40 pounds) of the bed weight. At the age of 5 I could support the weight but I enjoyed succumbing to the weight. And when the crush became overwhelming press the bed up with the abdominal muscles. Once satisfied at my ability to support the weight I would succumb to the weight again and again.
When I could, I smuggled weighted objects in to increase the crushing. But when I was 10 years old, I spent the summer on an uncle’s farm. He had old cars in a barn and I was using the chassis rail dropped between the ribs and hips. In one of the set up I exceeded the weight I could support on my midriff. One of many times I almost hurt myself.
While I was less than 10 my grandmother died and I was in the room at the time. I watched the collectors come through the wall and I was excited because this looked like a beginning of adventure. She told me that I could not go with her but as an excited child I was not going to miss out. I sneaked behind the escorting party and followed through the portal into the seventh dimension and into and across the sixth dimension where the dead people of this plain and realm go after life.
While I was there, I meet and communicated with a few dead people and learned about the lack of senses on the other side. Tiredness, hunger and being squashed did not exist for them. Being cold did exist as energy was not there but sometimes, they cross back to the realm and dimension of living to feel warm again. This made the area cold, which was noticeable to the living.
I did not fully understand live and dead at the age I was but I learnt how to cross over and interface with the dead. I do not know how long I was there on the first visit but I was discovered to not be processed. During processing it was discovered that I was not dead and after real telling off I was returned back to the farm and my body.
Sharing with Ghosts
by New Zealand Mountainman
by New Zealand Mountainman
I will start this story with detailed experiences in my childhood I came from two families of metaphysical abilities.. I had some extra abilities that I had no idea were extra abilities.
On my mother’s side was the Te Tunga Te Whenua of Aotearoa. In European words they were Maori of New Zealand. My family line was powerful for even Maori people, I will carry on using the English words but the translation of the Te Reo (the indigenous people language) is “The people of the Land”. Aotearoa means the long dawn but some people call it the land of the long white cloud. Basically, they arrived on a foggy day and it would have got another name if they came later on when it was bright, sunny and warm.
Now I am mocking what I am saying as it implies that these sea ferrying race came to an unoccupied Islands. This was not true as the country already had occupants.
One of the tenants was called the Mori Hori. They had bright red hair, peaceful without knowledge of bullying people. They lived here with other races in harmony. Another race here was the Early Maya, and this was my bloodline. We arrived about 500 BC and set up the culture we had in Belize, Honduras and Guatemala.
It is important for my story to remember we were the Early Maya and not the Classic Maya. Classic Maya had their high level of living with the gods but we were more clued up on 'up and coming' events. We had knowledge levels like the Middle East Sumerians.
My ancestors were here for over 1,000 when the Maori arrived. We had written records of the arrival of Polynesians from before when we left the Americas. There was one very clear message and that was to assimilate into waring people culture to survive, which meant losing our Identity. We warned the Mori Hori but they foolishly wanted to remain an individual race. The Maori went cannibal on them, decimating the race to the point that the remainder fled to the Chatham Islands to live.
The Maori seeing our submission and cooperation did not go so barbaric on my ancestors and even kept parts of Identity in records. These are stored in the Far North Marae. They renamed us Ngata Kuri. This is because the journey to New Zealand had a stop in Australia where a Dog now called Dingo were picked up and farmed like sheep for food. Ngata Kuri translate to the dog people.
In order for the Maori to claim to be the Indigenous they recorded us as earlier arrivals but neglected to say that we were Latin American and not Polynesian. The record says the early arrivals of Maori and them as the main arrivals.
In the hybrid race came several powerful healers. Some I have great respect for, as they were decent people. Unfortunately, my Family Line came from an Arrogant Tohunga (Witch Doctor) who started his own cult. He was referred to as a Prophet for his extreme metaphysical healing abilities but he was a self-important instead of humble.
He called the cult after himself Ratana and as a cult leader he took dark privileges. One of these was what some called ‘Wife Stealing’. He actually bedded a woman and the husband had to feel privilege that it was Ratana doing his wife.
Ratana was feared because just as easily he healed; the lame, blind and death, he gave blindness and other disabilities to those who challenge him. He did things in the glory of Ratana and not in the service of mankind. If a Maori were damaged in battle, after healing him, he would take payment of nearly everything the person had.
This nasty but in some ways helpful man was my Great Grand Father by illegitimate way (Rape in my words). I like my mother and grandmother inherited his metaphysical abilities.
My father’s side were no slouch in abilities. His side was French Aristocracy, which contained no abilities but during the French Revolution but were transported to Scotland by the Scarlet Pimpernel. There we got to mix it up with Ancient Druid Blood. The druid had their own connections to the gods, cosmos and other realms. My brothers and sister got the blend of metaphysical powers.
My oldest brother had died from a rheumatic fever as a child had a good grasp of working with the spirit world all his life. He died again at the age of 58 years old after the doctors insisted his heart was so damaged, he would not make it to his 11th birthday. None of his friends made it to 10 years old.
He kept bringing people back when they suffered massive strokes or dying of cancer etcetera. This was not always a good thing. When my sister was 17 she has a massive stroke from medication given by a doctor. Initially she recovered physically but never mentally. She had always used her abilities to dodge her blame in a lot of naughty behaviours. The guilt took the toll and she physically became disable until she was in a wheel chair.
My sister played representative Soft Ball and Netball. She was active right up to the stroke but she also stole money and used her ability to cover her tracks. She even stole from the Salvation Army and they could not prove it apart from the theft stopped when she was absent. The stroke that was meant to have killed her; at the age of 17 finally ended after her 55 birthday, and then, it was tobacco smoking followed by vapping that actually killed her.
My older brother who was healthy all his life died from cancer at the age of 50. He was an orchardist working with sprays so there was work hazards that could have contribute. He spent his life in denial of the metaphysical world but on his deathbed, suddenly said he believed in all of it.
I had two younger brothers that did not make it to school years. One drowned at Tangimoana Beach and the other was in the pram when a wayward drunk driver struck him and my mother.
Being of Maori blood and in the sixties, television was not here yet my parents had two more children. One married a catholic girl and only uses metaphysic in secrecy and the other is a small farm owner on the East Coast.
With the stories I tell I always add a lot of true facts about myself and push in some pure fantasy. The true facts I repeat in my other stories. I will carry on my childhood tales with the facts as a child I enjoyed the compression on of my abdomen.
It was the age of 5 that I figured how to use the heavy bed legs in the workers dorms on the farm. The worker’s hut was only occupied at peak times, as work was seasonal. A large part of the year they sleep outs were empty. They had bunk beds made from 4-inch (100 mm) square Totara wood. They weight 75 kilograms, which was the weight of average male. At the age of 5 I had found the way to lift the legs high enough into the air and squash down onto my belly. There was a discarded bucket made of Alloy that I would put over the square end spreading the weight over my abdomen.
I was not taking the entire 75 kilograms but with the twisting action of the frame it was more the quarter (18 kilograms or 40 pounds) of the bed weight. At the age of 5 I could support the weight but I enjoyed succumbing to the weight. And when the crush became overwhelming press the bed up with the abdominal muscles. Once satisfied at my ability to support the weight I would succumb to the weight again and again.
When I could, I smuggled weighted objects in to increase the crushing. But when I was 10 years old, I spent the summer on an uncle’s farm. He had old cars in a barn and I was using the chassis rail dropped between the ribs and hips. In one of the set up I exceeded the weight I could support on my midriff. One of many times I almost hurt myself.
While I was less than 10 my grandmother died and I was in the room at the time. I watched the collectors come through the wall and I was excited because this looked like a beginning of adventure. She told me that I could not go with her but as an excited child I was not going to miss out. I sneaked behind the escorting party and followed through the portal into the seventh dimension and into and across the sixth dimension where the dead people of this plain and realm go after life.
While I was there, I meet and communicated with a few dead people and learned about the lack of senses on the other side. Tiredness, hunger and being squashed did not exist for them. Being cold did exist as energy was not there but sometimes, they cross back to the realm and dimension of living to feel warm again. This made the area cold, which was noticeable to the living.
I did not fully understand live and dead at the age I was but I learnt how to cross over and interface with the dead. I do not know how long I was there on the first visit but I was discovered to not be processed. During processing it was discovered that I was not dead and after real telling off I was returned back to the farm and my body.
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