So, I tried to remove the paranoia and continued to actively approach women. Some politely refused and wished good luck in my search, and some were not so good-natured. In the case of the latter, I was glad that good-natured girls also existed. If it was not for them and my knowledge from Thiaoouba, then who knows what not-the-best thoughts could lead me to, which, in a period of desperation due to constant refusals, began to absorb me. But I must say that even in those dark thoughts and fantasies, I still sought revenge only to those who, in my opinion, were a clear villain. I did not wish anything bad to those who were innocent.
Fortunately for me and others, I had my knowledge. I understood that most likely I was paying with my life for such mistakes that I actually made before I was born in my current physical body. If I allowed myself to commit them again, having my knowledge, the retribution would be even tougher. And indeed, if you do not make new mistakes, then over time all the unpaid mistakes will be suffered for, and a person will live in true happiness.
Then I again remembered that I did not know the future, but my thoughts in the present will have a well-known effect when my face and body language reflect my psychological state.
Back in those days, I often began to have negative thoughts when I saw the couples who happily walked by holding each other’s hand or were kissing. After pondering what was the root cause for my bad thoughts, it became clear to me that I was angry at myself and not at them. When seeing such couples, I would just begin to once again remember that all these years after my eighteen’s birthday I had been doing all sorts of things except for developing myself and looking for love. The vision of those people simply pulled reality to the surface. And I was angry at myself because instead of accepting the consequences of my past decisions, I ran away from them, trying to think about something else. Thus, I did not learn my lesson and therefore suffered for it again and again, until I realized this.
Bad thoughts only kept me and my face in tension. I would make a mistake, and I would pay for it right away when single girls did not want to talk to me. One of the reasons to remove everything superfluous from the head and live in the present.
After some time, I had almost no worries regarding all of the aforementioned things.
Moreover, on some days I could be completely focused on reality, and the consequences of such a correct action did not take long to appear. I could absolutely calmly, and without a single hint of nervousness, approach any girl to ask her about the possibility to get acquainted with her. This was proof for me that modesty, shyness is a consequence of a person focusing his attention on his inner world, and not on the outside world.
***
Also, in that warm period of the year, I was finally able to forgive and stop blaming my father for my stuttering and everything that followed. I was finally able to live with the truth that I, like everyone else, was to blame for all my suffering that occurred because of my own erroneous choices in the past. Naturally, I too forgave my mother long ago for all the quarrels and all the negative things that were between us.
In June 2018, my father got drunk on his birthday, and he was fired from his job. After some time, my mother came to him, and he was not in good health. And his buddies were shopping with his bank card. After some time, dad was put in the hospital. It was the same hospital where he used to lie with the broken leg. When I called there to find out the details, they told me that he was transferred to the 64th hospital.
Mom went there and said that there was something with his leg. Father himself walked in the hospital on the first day, but then took to the bed.
I thought this was yet another consequence of heavy drinking. Father often recovered for a very long time after drinking too much alcohol.
We had no money, and I did not go to visit my father in the hospital in order to save money for his treatment after his release from the hospital. Moreover, I could not travel that far due to the same old problems with my health.
On July 9th, I found out that Michel Desmarquet was gone. I am sure that after helping people on Earth, he will have many joys in other lives. Who knows, maybe he will be able to be born on Thiaoouba too – the planet that he liked so much.
Not so long ago, I also began to think of the fact that my mother was quite old. I was afraid that she might die, and my father and I would be left alone.
In general, many people I knew and who were younger than my father died in those months.
I remember watching Elajjaz’s stream, and he was telling a story when the father of his acquaintance died, and so he decided to visit his father, who was already quite old. It is a pity that I did not listen to what life was trying to tell me…
I also want to note how that Swedish streamer sometimes stumbled in his speech on the stream, and thinking about the reasons he said that it was because he was thinking about something else at the time of the conversation. But he immediately, by and large, dismissed the idea that it was precisely the reason why people “stutter”. Sometimes the truth is closer than we think, but because of its simplicity we cannot always see it, even when it is looking directly at us.
On July 12, 2018, I received a message on Facebook asking me if I wanted to help translate Thiaoouba Prophecy into Russian. It came from a man who helped Michel translate and publish that book in China, albeit with a few lines removed due to censorship of the Chinese government. I was in poor health and could not go anywhere. Moreover, because of my almost constantly tense facial expressions, I was afraid that I could harm the book. I had to refuse.
My father was still in the hospital. Soon father’s roommate began to call. He said that perhaps my father had a stroke, and the doctors continued to have his leg treated, but nothing was done about the stroke. My father was already in the hospital among the doctors, and it was not clear what else my mother and I could do. And given the fact that dad was already transferred from one hospital to another, it was clear that the doctors themselves could determine what was best for him and where.
Mom went to father and said that he was lying in bed and could not get up, but he could remember that he had a son…
On July 16th, 2018, I had a third lucid dream. I was in the kitchen of my Moscow apartment. I tried to look around me and was able to see all the furniture. Soon after I went to the refrigerator, in which I found a huge sandwich the width of the entire refrigerator and in shape resembling a croissant. Inside it was something like meat, and greens similar in appearance to chives like eyelashes protruded from both sides of the sandwich’s halves along its entire length. I decided to bite off the tip of the sandwich, but I do not remember if I felt its taste. What I remembered was the clouding of my mind – just like it was in real life because of my tiredness. When I woke up, I thought to myself what if one of the immortal bodies that is part of the Astral body, such as the psychic body, remembers the state of our mind even after we reincarnate in a new physical body?
There was a very old case that occurred in my village. I think I was still in high school and I did not have the Internet or the knowledge that I have now. My father and I were engaged in routine work at the tiny house on his land located three houses away from my mother's. I remember clearly how I looked at my father’s bald head, and I had a very vivid feeling, or a thought, that this was the first time I would have to be bald.
I cannot help but see the synchronicity in those two dreams in which I was killed with a knife by an unknown killer. In both dreams, I had beautiful bodies, and the man in the second dream had a full head of hair. Then it was really hard for me to live seeing my head going bald. Only now I begin to feel more or less comfortable in my body.
Thaora taught Michel that the human psychic body is part of the Astral body and therefore does not die. If a person’s psyche is poor, it will influence his physical appearance. Thaora told Michel that many of our Earthly problems lie in psyche. Therefore, first of all, it is important to take care of our mental health.
This may be evidence that psychologically we truly remain what we were when our old physical body died. I used to think that by dying I could live in a new, beautiful, and healthy body. Due to my misunderstanding of the realities of life at that time, this was an erroneous thinking. Suicide will not save one from problems – it will only add new ones, and this will continue again and again until a person decides to start learning from what he needs to learn in his life.
The Cycle of Life
At one time I went to rest in Semenovsky Park, hoping to restore my health and nerves a little. I wanted to go down a path into the depths of the park, but I saw several dark figures who drank under an awning, and I decided to sit on a bench near the sidewalk. Soon I saw that those dark figures were three policemen who were walking along the path in my direction. Their faces were red, and I remembered how my father had the same face when he drank alcohol. The first two policemen passed me by, but the third one was looking intently at my passport, which I held in my hands so as not to be sitting on it. He asked me to show it. Two other policemen turned around. I asked about the reason for the search – the act that clearly caused irritation in the policeman. He said the standard answer was that I “looked like” the wanted person. But in that case why did the two other policemen calmly passed me by – I wonder now. But then I just gave my passport. After that he asked me to put everything out of my pockets. Due to my health, I felt unwell. He noticed this in my voice and behavior, and began to ask about the reasons. He touched my umbrella for a very long time. Then a passing by man stood up for me. The man showed the policemen the illegality of their actions, as they conducted the search without witnesses. The man was very persistent, and the policemen left.
This was the fourth time that the police asked me to show documents on the street.
The first case took place many years ago on the corner of my house. It went fine, and I was even amused that I was in a T-shirt and shorts, but the policemen still asked me as if I could have a grenade launcher with me. They also thoroughly checked all the slots of my wallet, since there was nothing else on me except the passport, which I began to carry with me ever since I began to have health problems – just in case.
The second case was much more serious. I was sick then, and I had a fever. We were running out of food, and mom could not go to the store due to poor health. I had to go myself, in spite of the cold winter and my illness. At the first entrance of my house, I saw three policemen coming out of it. One of them was staring at me and asked for the passport which I gave. It was a period when I spent a lot of time in myself, in my head, which made my whole body very tense. Because of this and my illness, I could barely speak. In fact, my jaw could hardly open. Plus, intense facial expressions caused by all my thoughts and feelings. The policemen thought that I was a drug addict, and they wanted to take me to the police station. Realizing then that I might simply not handle the pressure due to stress and die, I silently asked my Higher Self, Thao, Biastra, and Latoli to help me. In fact, the police began to take off my winter jacket for the search right in the cold. All this time I tried to tell them that I was sick. Passers-by saw all this, but continued to go their own way. Moreover, they were glancing at me, and not at what was happening next to me. Then the police decided to lead me into their police car for inspection. Inside, I was able to maintain my honor and dignity without showing them anything that they did not need to see. The time had come to show my left hand. When the policeman sitting to my left pointed to my obvious birthmarks and immediately called them needle shots, I realized what they really wanted. And then right after that thought, and I do not know why, but that policeman who was sitting by the wheel looked at my hands and said that they were birthmarks. They began to apologize for the incident and began to make excuses that they supposedly had to sometimes run after people in the street. But what did that have to do with me? I went on to the store, but this episode left me with a very unpleasant sediment.
For the third time, one policeman took it upon himself to check my documents when I came out from the entrance of my house. This time, the story was about the apartment thefts.
Thinking about all this, I could not help but recall one unusual for Russia case that happened when I was still working as a merchandiser. Most likely it was the Okhotny Ryad metro station where I was headed on the escalator from the passage from another line. I was standing and looking down when a man passed me by walking up the escalator. When he was on the same step with me, the man raised his jacket with his hands. The man had a white T-shirt, and with my peripheral vision I saw the outline of a gun sticking out of his pants behind him. When I turned my head in his direction, the jacket was already down, hiding what I might had seen. There were two policemen at the end of the escalator. I thought to tell them that I might had seen a gun behind that man, who was from the southern regions of the country, or maybe from other southern countries. But I was unsure. And then the man turned to face those two policemen and held his hand not far from his back, which made it impossible for me to point the finger at him. I say these things because I have realized now what happened. Then I still doubted what I saw. We took the subway train. I was still looking toward the man. His behavior was strange. He obviously looked cautiously around.
As you have already heard, all errors must be paid for by suffering. And so, I thought what if those episodes with the police were the very reckoning? Naturally, in the case of the second episode, I also paid for my fantasies and self-flagellation, which distorted my face so that I looked like a drug addict. The only question is whether that man in the subway committed a crime or not. If he shot someone, or simply committed some crime, then I will probably have to pay by much more serious and longer-term life situation than short negative and illegal searches on the street… I put up with this because I cannot change anything anymore.
But what did I need to do at that moment? I should have immediately approached the policemen to say that with my peripheral vision I saw something resembling a gun behind that man’s back – point him out either with my finger or with an oblique gaze, before the man turned to face the policemen. In case I missed this opportunity, I had to get out of the train with the man and go to the police post with my suspicion. Another option was just to call the police, tell them what I saw, describe the appearance of the man, and name the station where he got off – that is all. It was that simple.
But, as I said, I had my doubts then. And doubt was not unreasonable, since a couple of years ago I found out that in Russia it was impossible to buy a gun legally – which, in fact, speaks of the true nature of that person, but I did not see it then…
In the meantime, the end of July was approaching along with my 30th birthday. The man from my father’s ward called me again to express his concerns about dad’s condition and his treatment. Father himself had been in the hospital for several weeks, and I decided that I needed to go visit him after all. Mom recently visited dad, and said that according to her impression, he was feeling better, and he could even sit a bit on the bed.
I thought about going on Thursday, July 26th, but I was still feeling unwell. I decided to go to Sokolniki in order to gain confidence and definitely go to see my father on Friday – no matter what. In the park, I decided to go up to a woman who said that she was busy with something and added that this was the third time in that day that someone would come up to meet her. She laughed and did not understand what was happening due to the unusual situation. The time was about one o’clock in the afternoon.
I came home and my father's friends called me. They said that someone called them from the hospital and asked me, a relative of my father, to call them.
I called the hospital to find out how my father was. I was told that he died in intensive care at one o’clock in the afternoon. I was completely shocked by the sudden news… and the words “died in intensive care” rang in my head for many weeks, if not months. For some reason, I thought that my father simply could not die, at least not now. Life brought me back to reality.
I called my mother, who went to the village a few hours earlier. With difficulty and with tears, I told her the news. She went back.
I do not know how much time passed while I was collecting information about what needs to be done to bury my father, but when my mother entered the apartment, I had the feeling that only a few minutes had passed.
We went to the trolleybus stop to go to my father’s apartment and take the documents. The sun has already set.
Having passed the lake, mom mentioned in a conversation that when she came to dad on the first day, he was able to tell her that he had seen his mom and dad, but then he returned. I exclaimed under my breath why she did not say this earlier! Then I would certainly feel the seriousness and importance of the situation, and would come to him! …Months later mother also told me how dad mentioned to her that he had a mild stroke before. Had I known that, the knowledge would have probably forced me go to visit my father as well.
The bus did not arrive, and I did not feel well. I told my mother about my desire to go to the apartment the next day early in the morning. We went home through Cherkizovsky park so as to collect our thoughts.
I found a funeral home and it turned out that it was necessary to have the death certificates of my grandparents and uncle in order to bury dad in the grave with his parents. In father’s apartment, we could only find grandmother’s death certificate. Unfortunately, dad did not listen to my mother and did not collect the necessary documents during his lifetime.
We had to go to the hospital. I knew that it would not be easy. The summer heat didn't help either. Throughout the ride in the subway, I tried to calm my thoughts in order to remove tension in the body.
When we were on the hospital’s territory, I thought that the Higher Selves of the first category are able to resurrect the dead if three days have not passed since the death of the physical body of a person, and the person himself wants to return – then, in some cases, the Higher Self can return the soul back to the physical body. But thoughts remained thoughts…
At the ward where yesterday lay my living father, the doctors gave us papers to sign, and we met the man who was calling me. They returned father’s belongings, but there was no passport. We were sent to intensive care where a man from India opened the door.
He could speak Russian, but I could not help but wonder if people from Russia could not occupy such an important profession? However, perhaps this was a very good specialist in his field who was unparalleled in all of Russia. I do not know. I want to note what should already be obvious – I am not a racist, and did not experience any serious bias towards people of a different skin color even before Thiaoouba and my knowledge about reincarnation. But this moment made me think even more about the state of Russia, and I decided to include it in the book. There is also a chance that that person was born in Russia and just speaks with an accent, just as there can be many other explanations.
While we were waiting for the passport to arrive, I felt that I was not very well and wanted to go outside as soon as possible.
The next day, father’s friend took us to the cemetery, where grandfather and grandmother were buried. We drove on the Moscow Ring Road and passed by my grandmother’s house, where I went to visit with my mother for school holidays a long time ago. Sometimes father also would come with us.
In the end, because of fact that the registry office was closed on Sunday and Monday, we could not collect the necessary documents, and we had to bury my father a few meters from his parents.
Mother had to pay about 60 000 rubles for the simplest funeral. Plus, we had to pay the paramedics to drag the coffin with my father’s body several meters to the car. They asked for double value, since dad was larger than other people… This money…
Father’s friend and his wife could not go to the funeral. It was just me, mom, and father’s relative.
I could not hold back my tears, although I understood why Thao told Michel that one should not be selfish when someone dies. My father suffered a lot in his life, and now he had a chance to live a new one, which, I hope, will be easier than the previous life. One needs to be able to put oneself in the place of other people and look at the situation from their point of view.
When I went to get the death certificate for my father’s brother, I was not at all surprised by the fact that the registry office at 9th Parkovaya Street was located directly opposite the place where my father drove to many years ago to pick me up after the dentist. Father sometimes would say that he let me down at different points in his life. In that moment I had a feeling that I let him down now. I felt pain from the fact that he remembered me after the stroke, but I could not come to him in the hospital on time…
But, something ends, something begins. After my mom and I went to the hospital, my health became better, although it was not completely normal yet. Mom began to ask me to go with her to the village, seeing that I was, after all, able to get to the cemetery beyond the Moscow Ring Road. I kept refusing.
The village reminded me of how in my childhood we would drive there with my father each year. With his death, I am unlikely to ever see the familiar places we traveled by so often.
I hadn’t quarreled and argued with my mother for so long, and now that we were the only two left, I tried to protect her as I could. I did not want to lose her as well, and to be completely alone… Once, when I was studying at school, I only wished, out of fear to talk to people, so that no one would call me and talk to me… Wishes come true.
In late August, I again refused to go to the village that seemed so far away to me, and my mother left alone. After a while I called her, but no one answered. In the evening too. Knowing the nature of my mother, I realized that most likely she was just upset with me and did not want to talk. But then the question arose what if, after all, something did happen? I thought that I needed to go to the village, but I could not make up my mind to do it.
I then went to Sokolniki for a health-replenishment walk and heard in the news about the death of Kobzon. This news reminded me of my knowledge about life and about reincarnation. I turned around, bought some food for my mother, and booked a bus ticket at home, so I could go to the village the next day. Whatever happens, happens.
Just in case, I asked my old acquaintances to check on my mother, and they told me that she was in the garden. I rode calm.
All the way I tried to be positive about everything that was happening around. It helped me relax.
At the dacha, I cut down thickets of blackthorn and helped my mother with various other problems, which have accumulated quite a lot.
The village itself had changed a lot over the many years that I could not visit it.
Having brought my mother spring and well water, I was going to leave the next day. Nothing bothered me anymore when I walked across a tree-overgrown field that had not been sown for many years. I could not help but recall the dream that I had many months ago. In that dream, I was finally able to come to the village, and old acquaintances congratulated me on this. In reality, I have not met any old friends, but I did actually reach the village.
After some time, I came to the village again to help my mom take the crop away. Before, my father would do this on his car, which he sold a couple of years ago but could ride on it by proxy.
We had to pay for father's debts on housing and communal services, and we thought about renting it. To do this, it was necessary to put the apartment in order, which was not at all easy.
I came to father’s apartment on a clear sunny day to clean the walls of the kitchen of old crumbling paint. While working, something distracted my attention, and I looked to my left towards the corridor. I saw a white translucent figure looking at me, and then it quickly “walked” sideways behind the wall of the small room. I realized that these were the very 19% of electrons that used to be part of my father. I was not scared, because I knew about the reasons for ghosts, but sometimes I would still glance around.
The other day, when I was already with my mother, who was helping clean the floor in the large room, I saw something white flowing along my right hand. I thought it was mom, but when I turned around, she was doing something by the wall, and her back was turned to the windows. These were again the electrons that are not part of the Astral body, and are separated from the physical body three days after the death of a person.
The other day, I worked in my father’s apartment alone. In the evening, when it was already dusk, I was about to leave. I turned on the light as I was changing into clean clothes in the small room. With lateral vision, I noticed how something dark and small moves in the corridor from right to left. I thought that it could be a neighbor's cat, who sometimes visited the apartment, but when I looked directly at the moving object, it became clear to me that it was a dark mass that disappeared behind the door. I got control over myself and calmly left.
After these experiences with this real ghost, it became very clear to me that the bright entity in the village was not a ghost.
After the death of my father, I often cried. Thinking about the reasons, I think that my emotions lashed out so much because of all the stupid things that I had to do all those years, in which I could live in a completely different way. Perhaps this would have affected my father, and he would not have drunk so much. After all, he once obeyed me and was sober on my birthday…
And so, my mother and I were in my father’s apartment, and again emotions and tears came flooding over me. I was in the corridor – in the very spot where months earlier I saw the dark mass – when I felt something cold touch a part of my left hand. I want to emphasize that it was part of the hand, and not the entire bare hand, which eliminates the draft…
While sorting out the apartment, we found father’s children's photographs. I regret that he never showed me them. I always knew my father as an adult and never imagined him as a child. These photos could help me understand and forgive dad much earlier.
I also noticed that my father began to go bald very early, and when I was born, he was already completely bald at his age of 29 years. There are two points here. Firstly, I used to be very worried about hair loss, but in fact my baldness was not so fast, and at thirty I still have some hair on my head. Secondly, I remembered how, as a child, my dad told me that when I was born, he was healthy (meaning that he had all his hair) – but the photos told the opposite… Looking back, I would have preferred if my dad just told me the truth, or did not say anything. His words did rather worse than better, as I started to believe that I would be fine in terms of appearance. Knowing what awaited me, I might have come to terms with it, and also tried to make better use of what I had in my youth.
I was recalling many events from my life, and one memory reminded me of one thing my father said. When I was in high school my computer broke down. To be precise, the power supply burned out after I punched the case. My father took the whole computer for repair, and then he got drunk. I called him and firmly demanded to bring my computer back. To this, he told me then: “Слушай ты, мудак…” (“Listen you, asshole…” is about the closest translation, but it is not the same on the emotional level for me) – this was the first and last time when dad told me something bad, and then I started to have a heavy hysterics, because I was very strongly offended by the fact that my father told me that. Mom then called him and scolded him. The bottom line is that the phrase “listen you…” followed by either an insulting word or nothing, was told me 3 times throughout my life: by my father, by the village friend, and by Thao.
Other than that, dad was always very kind to me. He was often happy to see me, and he was frequently smiling and joking.
I understood that father would one day live a new life in a new body. I hoped that he would have to suffer less than he had already suffered. It is a pity that he did not manage to overcome the habit of drinking alcohol, and even lying in the hospital asked the worker to bring him a drink. Naturally, she refused and then told everything to my mom.
I often started having dreams about my father. I do not even know if I ever once dreamed about him while he was alive.
In one dream, he asked me: “Why didn’t you go?”
Before that dream, I often recalled how long ago, when I was leaving the village with my father, maybe even for the last time, dad asked my mother and me if we would like to go by car to another city – Suzdal or something like that. Due to the fact that I dreamed of leaving for the USA and forgetting about everything and everyone, I did not have much desire to go somewhere, and my bad habit did not allow me to go physically either. And so I ask myself a question with tears in my eyes – for what purpose did I have to do all this nonsense?