Agdistis
New Member
Hi! How are you all? I've seen threads about Atlantis, so I suppose memories from tens of thousands of years ago are acceptable. As a shorthand, I call the first civilization I remember Mu, because James Churchward supposed Mu to be in the same place these memories occur - Indonesia and New Guinea.
Mu was a stone-using culture like central America, and like the Americas hosted a population of millions. We lived along the coast and built fortresses in the mountains - Mutians were often at war, and would retreat to these forts when their ports had been taken.
The cities were composed of buildings up to 3 stories tall - the frequent Earthquakes made anything taller dangerous. The coast was covered by piers which stretched far out to sea, and many buildings were built directly on them.
Again, like central America, Mu was an artistic and scientific powerhouse despite it's primitive industry. The buildings were painted in pastels due the cost of pigments, but more saturated murals covered many surfaces safe from direct water erosion. These murals most resembled ancient Indian or central American art. In fact, I get the impression that India, Africa and the Americas were colonized directly from Mu 37,000 years ago.
My father was a sailor in the national navy. His specific job was to plumb the shallow
water near the coastline to assure the ship didn't hit rocks, and to keep constant watch for other ships - he recorded all this on a map, so that the crew would know the locations of enemy ships.
However, despite coming from a middleclass background, he had back luck with money. He attempted to buy a house, but the lord who he was buying it from pretended not to receive his notes of payment, and evicted us. Around the same time, my father quit the navy and we started living on the road. He got a job repairing the special counting equipment (Like an abacus) used in banks, and we moved from side of New Guinea to the middle with help from a half brother.
My mother had been married before, and her son also fixed the counting equipment. Both he and my father tried to teach me the trade, but I was more interested in local spiritual culture. Mu had many cults, similar to Greco-Roman paganism, and among them was the prototype of Cybele. I became involved with them by letters - on Mu, which was a literate culture, a postage system existed. Unlike most others, I hadn't learned to read and write in school, which had been disrupted by my poverty - instead my mother taught me.
Of all the memories I have of Mu, the phenotype of the people is the sharpest; red-brown skin like Egyptians or certain native Americans; reddish brown eyes which could also be said to be hazel in some cases; and very wavy or curly orange hair.
Our faces and skulls were like Amarna art - we had very 'M' shaped hairlines however, which isn't shown in Amarna art because the ancient Egyptians shaved their heads and wore wigs. Our bodies also resembled the wide-hipped, feminine forms depicted in Amarna art.
On Mu, we practiced first mummification with pine needles and pine sap, followed by burial underground on top of hot embers. The charred remains were dug up, and covered in cement made from bone ash to form a statue. The dead, encased in these statues, were kept in the house and treated as if they were still living. Morbidly, everyone looked forward to mummification, and the living were often mummified after eating the pine needles and sap until they went still.
I joined the cult of proto-Cybele, and I was mummified alive. At the time, I thought of this as apotheosis. I'm not sure if this is allowed, and I apologize if it isn't, but I also have memories that suggest a long and happy life as this statue, until the waters rose over me and I eroded underwater.
After that, I incarnated among my descendents - they'd long migrated from Mu to Eurasia, and made a long trek through indochina, northern India, the Persian plains, and Georgia, before going east again into Siberia.
I remember this life very briefly. Me and my brother were standing on top of a cold, dry mountain overlooking a red valley of rock and sand. The blue sky contrasted with the red Earth, and on the cliff we were on, a cut stone block stood. I stared at it, and said to my brother;
"So we're really going to do it? Do you know what this will mean?"
By which, we meant that we (As a race - the Siberians) were going to create western civilization. I could see then the modern era, and it was the only light of hope I had in that life.
My next memory is of coming out of a hut in southern Africa. Some of the Siberians had migrated to Africa and bred with the locals. The village was filled Khoisan-looking people, and a few who, like me, had pale skin, blue eyes and red hair. The proto-Khoisan were family, and I felt an enormous sense of tragedy in this life when I realized these brothers of mine are on the verge of extinction.
But at that moment, coming out of the hut, they were prosperous and showed no signs of decline. I felt a sense of pride about them, as if they were my sons and daughters. Their faces and bodies were beautiful - their faces weren't as long as mine, and this improvement made me very happy.
I next remember building boats on the shores of the atlantic ocean, somewhere in Scandinavia. For some reason, this Scandinavian self wasn't like my prior lifes - he didn't know his ancestors had come from Africa over the last 14,000 years.
This man was blond, not redheaded, and his face was shorter. He cursed the wood that roughened his hands - he dreamed of being idle. He and his family set sail across the Atlantic, and discoverd Vinland.
We weren't kicked out by native Americans, and we lived in peace with them. Back then, the east coast of the Americas was still inhabited by the first Mutian colonists - as well as Siberians who had migrated east across the pacific on kayaks. Phenotypically, these native Americans looked a great deal like us, and some of them even had blond and red hair.
Poor winters and a quitter's attitude was what banished us back across the Atlantic. I was so enraged by the cowardice of our leaders, that I swore that my descendents would get back to the Americas. The new continent passed into myth, but knowledge of the new world remained in our DNA.
My next life I remember is as a German soldier in WWII. I only briefly remember being behind sandbags, before my position was taken and I was shot dead.
Finally, my life before this one ended with me dying of a drug overdose in the back of a car. I think it was during the 1960's or 1970's.
Very sorry if any of this is not allowed, but I'm desperate to post this somewhere it can get affirmation as something other than delusion.
Mu was a stone-using culture like central America, and like the Americas hosted a population of millions. We lived along the coast and built fortresses in the mountains - Mutians were often at war, and would retreat to these forts when their ports had been taken.
The cities were composed of buildings up to 3 stories tall - the frequent Earthquakes made anything taller dangerous. The coast was covered by piers which stretched far out to sea, and many buildings were built directly on them.
Again, like central America, Mu was an artistic and scientific powerhouse despite it's primitive industry. The buildings were painted in pastels due the cost of pigments, but more saturated murals covered many surfaces safe from direct water erosion. These murals most resembled ancient Indian or central American art. In fact, I get the impression that India, Africa and the Americas were colonized directly from Mu 37,000 years ago.
My father was a sailor in the national navy. His specific job was to plumb the shallow
water near the coastline to assure the ship didn't hit rocks, and to keep constant watch for other ships - he recorded all this on a map, so that the crew would know the locations of enemy ships.
However, despite coming from a middleclass background, he had back luck with money. He attempted to buy a house, but the lord who he was buying it from pretended not to receive his notes of payment, and evicted us. Around the same time, my father quit the navy and we started living on the road. He got a job repairing the special counting equipment (Like an abacus) used in banks, and we moved from side of New Guinea to the middle with help from a half brother.
My mother had been married before, and her son also fixed the counting equipment. Both he and my father tried to teach me the trade, but I was more interested in local spiritual culture. Mu had many cults, similar to Greco-Roman paganism, and among them was the prototype of Cybele. I became involved with them by letters - on Mu, which was a literate culture, a postage system existed. Unlike most others, I hadn't learned to read and write in school, which had been disrupted by my poverty - instead my mother taught me.
Of all the memories I have of Mu, the phenotype of the people is the sharpest; red-brown skin like Egyptians or certain native Americans; reddish brown eyes which could also be said to be hazel in some cases; and very wavy or curly orange hair.
Our faces and skulls were like Amarna art - we had very 'M' shaped hairlines however, which isn't shown in Amarna art because the ancient Egyptians shaved their heads and wore wigs. Our bodies also resembled the wide-hipped, feminine forms depicted in Amarna art.
On Mu, we practiced first mummification with pine needles and pine sap, followed by burial underground on top of hot embers. The charred remains were dug up, and covered in cement made from bone ash to form a statue. The dead, encased in these statues, were kept in the house and treated as if they were still living. Morbidly, everyone looked forward to mummification, and the living were often mummified after eating the pine needles and sap until they went still.
I joined the cult of proto-Cybele, and I was mummified alive. At the time, I thought of this as apotheosis. I'm not sure if this is allowed, and I apologize if it isn't, but I also have memories that suggest a long and happy life as this statue, until the waters rose over me and I eroded underwater.
After that, I incarnated among my descendents - they'd long migrated from Mu to Eurasia, and made a long trek through indochina, northern India, the Persian plains, and Georgia, before going east again into Siberia.
I remember this life very briefly. Me and my brother were standing on top of a cold, dry mountain overlooking a red valley of rock and sand. The blue sky contrasted with the red Earth, and on the cliff we were on, a cut stone block stood. I stared at it, and said to my brother;
"So we're really going to do it? Do you know what this will mean?"
By which, we meant that we (As a race - the Siberians) were going to create western civilization. I could see then the modern era, and it was the only light of hope I had in that life.
My next memory is of coming out of a hut in southern Africa. Some of the Siberians had migrated to Africa and bred with the locals. The village was filled Khoisan-looking people, and a few who, like me, had pale skin, blue eyes and red hair. The proto-Khoisan were family, and I felt an enormous sense of tragedy in this life when I realized these brothers of mine are on the verge of extinction.
But at that moment, coming out of the hut, they were prosperous and showed no signs of decline. I felt a sense of pride about them, as if they were my sons and daughters. Their faces and bodies were beautiful - their faces weren't as long as mine, and this improvement made me very happy.
I next remember building boats on the shores of the atlantic ocean, somewhere in Scandinavia. For some reason, this Scandinavian self wasn't like my prior lifes - he didn't know his ancestors had come from Africa over the last 14,000 years.
This man was blond, not redheaded, and his face was shorter. He cursed the wood that roughened his hands - he dreamed of being idle. He and his family set sail across the Atlantic, and discoverd Vinland.
We weren't kicked out by native Americans, and we lived in peace with them. Back then, the east coast of the Americas was still inhabited by the first Mutian colonists - as well as Siberians who had migrated east across the pacific on kayaks. Phenotypically, these native Americans looked a great deal like us, and some of them even had blond and red hair.
Poor winters and a quitter's attitude was what banished us back across the Atlantic. I was so enraged by the cowardice of our leaders, that I swore that my descendents would get back to the Americas. The new continent passed into myth, but knowledge of the new world remained in our DNA.
My next life I remember is as a German soldier in WWII. I only briefly remember being behind sandbags, before my position was taken and I was shot dead.
Finally, my life before this one ended with me dying of a drug overdose in the back of a car. I think it was during the 1960's or 1970's.
Very sorry if any of this is not allowed, but I'm desperate to post this somewhere it can get affirmation as something other than delusion.
