Conversion tank, duplicator. a human goes into tank, like the movie the fly. so this termite is in there. this human gets to be a termite. a fat one, he's huge. its laying on a hospital bed and all these attendants are looking at it wondering what to do now as this was accident. the human mind is inside the fat termite, right, so it’s laying there wiggling it’s appendages helplessly, thinking this is going to be a bad hair day for sure...and we suppose the human body is walking around with a termite brain thinking where can I find some dinner wood and produce some babies look like rice kernals.
right. so it gets better. switch movie scenes. I’m standing up next to this invisible transmutation machine listening to instructions over my head, no source where it’s coming from, just call it guides then, I’m at ease, I can do it, but I’m being fed information first. I think I’m supposed to rescue the man trapped in the fat termite’s body who is dying because, actually, lol, he’s a man, not a termite. so I ask, what’s it like to be a termite when u realize you are a termite and it just happened of a sudden like that?
well, a group of jolly guides say, its just like you suspected. operating from the termites brain if u can call it a brain, is just one thought: chew wood, make rice kernal babies.
Smiling I stand straight looking in one direction towards this invisible box thing two inches from my face which represents a test.
they say make sure there’s no bugs in the box when you go into your service, it has to be absolutely clean so no mistakes happen.
I think this is instruction about the details of the human experiment into matter, that when incarnating into Earth plane we have intentions and we have a sort of destiny planned but some details, maybe very small but can get very huge and fat, get overlooked so we need to work out the observer part of us so we can see behind us, in front and to the sides what’s hiding there while we transform ourselves without de-evolving.
so why did that bloke go in there? he wanted to get to the next level of his being, the next stage of higher. he wanted to transform himself. instead, he’s a fat dying termite. somehow though it’s not a tragedy, but a comedy of errors as we learn by rectifying errors of omission.

so they dont call me laffing rain for no reason.
love, alysia