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Untold Story
Untold Story
Untold Story
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Untold Story

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 Dr. Mayo practices the ancient arts of 'Dream Walking' and 'Shape-Shifting.' In "Untold Story," you are given a glimpse of the power and magic that lies buried deep within the realm known to dream walkers as the 'Dreamscape.' None of these stories were fabricated. Dr. Mayo experienced all of these adventures from within

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 14, 2022
ISBN9798986216638
Untold Story

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    Book preview

    Untold Story - Michael T. Mayo

    -

    Untold Story

    By

    Dr. Michael T. Mayo

    Queens Army Tucson, Arizona

    Copyright© 2022 Michael T. Mayo

    All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be copied, shared, reproduced, transmitted, or stored electronically or by any other means without explicit written permission from Dr. Mayo.

    Library of Congress Number: 2022912032

    ISBN # 979-8-9862166-4-5 Print edition

    ISBN # 979-8-9862166-3-8 e-book

    First digital Edition, July, 2022

    Published by: Queens Army LLC

    Tucson, Arizona 85711

    Our website is: queensarmy.net

    Our distributor is: Ingram

    CREDITS: Images for the cover was provided courtesy of PIXABAY.

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to the memory of my mother,

    Dorothy Kathrine Mayo.

    She taught me to read, and she taught me to love reading.

    Introduction

    Dr. Mayo practices the ancient arts of ‘Dream Walking’ and ‘Shape-Shifting.’ In Untold Story, you are given a glimpse of the power and magic that lies buried deep within the realm known to dream walkers as the ‘Dreamscape.’ None of these stories were fabricated. Dr. Mayo experienced all of these adventures from within the ‘Dreamscape.’ Dr. Mayo was not aware of the significance of these adventures until late in the creation of this book.

    Lucid Journey is a chronological series of ‘Lucid Dreams,’ from within the ‘Dreamscape.’ The purpose and objective of those lucid dreams were for Dr. Mayo to acquire the skill sets needed to accomplish an unknown and unanticipated task, not revealed to him by the Source until after the mission had been completed.

    Untold Story was a chronological continuation of Lucid Journey. It was diverted by the ‘Source’ to tell the story of ‘Tupelo’ and prevent a nuclear war with North Korea.

    Dr. Mayo’s Mantra

    Nothing is what it appears to be, ever.

    Don’t take it personally, even if it’s meant to be.

    Every challenge brings an opportunity. (The gift)

    The secret is to focus on the opportunity…

    Not on the challenge.

    Expect nothing… and you will never be disappointed.

    The only thing between you and your dreams… is you.

    Give yourself permission to fail…

    So you can give yourself permission to succeed.

    Treat yourself the way you want others to treat you.

    Learn to say ‘Thank You’… and mean it.

    Forgive others… So you can forgive yourself.

    Pretty Woman

    Within your greatest strength may be found your greatest weakness. Within your greatest weakness lies your greatest strength. I have always had a great weakness for a pretty woman. The movie starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, Pretty Woman, just celebrated its 25th anniversary. This made me wonder if I could discover my greatest strength by scrutinizing my great weakness for a pretty woman.

    I waited for the Night Train to arrive at 4:00 a. m. It arrived right on time. The Conductor shouted ‘All aboard at the top of his lungs. I looked all around, but I was the only one waiting to get on the train. He asked where I needed to go. With a twinkle in my eye, I replied, Pretty Woman. He smiled, winked, and said, dining car. When I reached the dining car, it was empty, but after all, it was barely four o’clock in the morning. I sat down at a lovely table and waited. It wasn’t long before a beautiful woman approached. She asked if I would mind if she joined me. You know I would never say no to a pretty woman.

    We made small talk for a while. Then I introduced myself to her as ‘Mike.’She said, Michael and asked what I was drinking. I told her it was green tea. She ordered a green tea for herself. I wondered if she were hungry. She said, maybe later. The day was just breaking, so I asked if she would like to walk back to the observation deck. She thought that would be a great idea. As we made our way along the narrow corridor through the sleepers towards the observation car, she paused and pointed at the name on a little white paper on one of the sleeper doors. This is my compartment. Do you mind if I make a quick bathroom stop?

    No, not at all, I said. She suggested I wait for her inside instead of standing in the hallway blocking traffic, so I did. A couple of minutes later, she returned wearing only the top of a baby doll outfit and made herself comfortable sitting on my lap. She was indeed a pretty woman.

    She acted like everything was going just great, but I knew it wasn’t for her and not for me either. This was the opportunity I was looking for to discover what strength lay hidden in my weakness for a pretty woman. Her greatest strength, as she saw it was her beauty. Yet being so focused on maintaining the conception of her beauty prevented her from being fully present at the moment, and her absence impacted me negatively.

    What I did then destroyed her self-imposed sanctity, her preoccupation with her sense of personal beauty. This allowed her to do what women do, which allowed me to do what men do. She thanked me and said, You make me feel like a Natural Woman. Therein resides my greatest strength, which lies within my greatest weakness for a pretty woman.

    But then I asked myself, What made you do that? I indeed have a great weakness for a pretty woman, but it seems I have an even greater weakness, which is the weakness of my male ego. My male ego is, in fact, my greatest weakness. My actions were driven by nothing but the desire to feed my ego and express my male dominance. As much as I like a pretty woman, I can’t help myself from being a ‘Dick.’

    Central Alarm

    Last night, my wife asked me to check on our granddaughter, who lives in Orange County. It was almost 12:30 in the morning, and before I finished assembling our group, we finally departed. I usually follow the Boy Scout’s Motto and always ‘Be Prepared,’ so I ended up taking the huge ‘Magical Lion,’ the ‘Other,’ which is a duplicate of myself comprised of pure energy, and Khan the Great with his giant horse Phillip and his Cardigan Welsh Corgi, Peaches. We transported over at the same time through the large portal I created. That way, we wouldn’t get separated from each other. Kahn the Great, a giant at least twelve feet tall, his equally giant horse Phillip, and Peaches, a Corgi, covered the three entrances on the poolside of my son’s house. The Magical Lion covered the back door. The Other guarded the kitchen entrance. I entered the house through the front door and made my way back to our granddaughter’s bedroom. I scrutinized everything as I made my way through the house towards her room, but I found nothing there or in her room.

    We were reassembling in the driveway to transport back when I was sucked back home by the clamoring telephone on my wife’s side of the bed. A harsh female voice echoed out of the kitchen. Blah…blah…blah… This is Central Alarm calling blah…blah…blah…. By the time I got out to the kitchen, the operator had already dispatched the police to my office. I played back her message to get the phone number to cancel the dispatch, but the operator had marbles in her mouth as she said, Motion detector alarm Southeast corner…Blah…Blah…Blah.

    It was 1:00 a. m. I couldn’t find my slippers. I called the alarm company, but the same raspy voice at the other end of the line said, Sorry, all lines are busy. Please call back later. I got my gun. I was wearing my plaid red flannel pajamas and an old tee shirt full of holes. My wife yelled out. Don’t forget your cell phone. I forgot my flashlight. It’s always hard to shoot someone in the dark.

    When I pulled up to the office four minutes later, the police were already there. I asked the officer shining his flashlight through the window if he wanted to go inside. He ignored my gun and red plaid pajamas and said, Yes. The police officer and I went inside and turned off the alarm. Nothing was there, but the chair in the southeast corner of the office, where we sedate patients, was in a horizontal position. We always leave it upright when we leave for the night. I recognized this officer. He was the same police officer who showed up the last time someone broke into my office. They had lined up all of our computers next to the window, ready to be taken, when I entered the back door with my gun drawn. They escaped through the southeast window.

    When I finally got home from the office, it was 1:22 in the morning. I needed to go back to check on the rest of our party. It is always best to transport back together if you went over together, so no one gets lost. When I rounded everyone up and was ready to transport, I noticed something in the driveway. I couldn’t see it with any of the tools at my disposal, but I knew something was there. No one knew what it was. When I blasted it with a huge psychic bomb, and nothing happened, I knew I was dealing with something unfamiliar. I wrapped it up in an expansion sack, which can contain anything, cinched it up, tied it to my belt, and transported it back to my home in Tucson, Arizona. I had no idea what to do with this new unknown guest.

    Aru

    When I returned home from my son’s house, it was a few minutes before 2:00 a. m. There was still time for me to catch the ‘Night Bus,’ which passes by at 2:00 sharp. I went out in front of the house and waited for the bus to arrive. Not sure where to go when the bus stopped, and the folding door opened, I asked the driver if he could take me to ‘Dream Time.’I have been to dream time in the past, but the technique I used, which was shown to me by an Aborigine spirit dancer, was tricky and had a lot of limitations. The Night Bus spiraled downward like a fireman coming down a fire pole. In no time, the door swung open, and I was let out into what looked like a jungle in Hawaii.

    A little man approached me with nothing on but a skimpy leather thong. He was no more than four and a half feet tall. His skin was very dark and weathered. His hair was thick, dark, and curly. He was an Aborigine. The little man introduced himself to me as Aru, the keeper of ‘Dream Time.’ As I stepped out of the Night Bus, my attire had been transformed into an equally skimpy thong. The only other thing I had with me was the containment pouch still attached to the strap of the thong around my waist. Aru pointed at the containment pouch and asked what I had brought to ‘Dream Time.’ I told him I didn’t know what it was, but after telling him the story of how and where I got it, he felt it was probably someone’s recurrent dream or nightmare. If it had been a spirit, it would have been destroyed or displaced by the explosive device I used. Dreams can’t be visualized using the tools I had been using. Those recurrent dreams hang around like a dark cloud, which cannot be seen but only sensed in a non-explicit way. They cast a pall over anyone who walks through them.

    After hearing that, I was glad I had been able to remove it from my son’s driveway. Not knowing what to do with it, I asked Aru if he had any ideas on how I could get rid of it. He told me to open the pouch and let it go. Aru said that in Dream Time, everything exists forever, unlike real-time, where everything is transitory and exists only for a short period. He said if it didn’t belong there in Dream Time, it would vanish into thin air before our eyes.

    A shadowy amorphous cloud emerged from within when I opened the bag and then disappeared into the dense jungle foliage. I asked what happened to the dream thing. Aru told me it would continue to exist forever in Dream Time, but it would never again trouble my son or his family.

    When I asked Aru what kind of dream it had been, he said the only way to know for sure was for me to track it down and make it pay fifty dollars every day. He laughed so hard he almost fell over onto the ground on his head.

    I spent a long time there in ‘Dream Time’ speaking with Aru. He wished me well and said I was welcome to come again any time to ‘Dream Time.’

    When I rechecked the clock, it was 2:17 in the morning.

    Ant Hill

    This morning I was awake just before the Night Bus was due to arrive. I decided to take advantage of this opportunity and go somewhere. While I was waiting for the bus to come, I decided to return to Dream Time to learn more about the practical possibilities that exist when you are there. I only took those items with me, which had been provided by the Aborigine Spirit Dancer and an Aborigine Australian Citizen whom I first encountered while crossing the bridge to the Isle of St. Louis while visiting Paris. Those items included the following: A spear and its spear caster, a leather thong, a boomerang, a bolo, a leather pouch containing three magical items, which were a blue-colored stone, a fossilized femur from a turkey size bird, and a fossilized piece of a tree branch. By our standards, I may have appeared to be woefully unprepared for a ‘walkabout in the outback’ in Dream Time.

    The Night Bus arrived right on time at precisely 2:00 a. m. It spiraled down and left me somewhere in Dream Time. I assumed Aru, the keeper of Dream Time, would be there to greet me, but he was not. The surroundings were unfamiliar, so I moved off towards some mountains in the distance. At first, I walked, unsure if my bare feet could carry me across the rocky ground, then I began to trot, then run like only an Aborigine runs endlessly for hours, never stopping, never being out of breath. Eventually, I came upon a small barren hillock where I momentarily paused, standing on one foot with the other foot resting on the side of my leg just above the knee and my spear gently touching the soil as a counterbalance the way only an Aborigine warrior can stand. The panoramic view comprised sixteen distinctly different landscapes with their margins seamlessly blended, creating a magical manage. I had no idea in which direction to proceed. Out of the corner of my eye, Aru appeared and pointed off in one direction on my left side. He was wearing only a thong. His dark brown skin was severely weathered and resembled tanned leather. I looked down at my skin. It, too, appeared to be made of dark brown leather. Without a word, we broke into a fast-paced Aborigine trot, which we continued until the sun sank below the western horizon. We stopped for the night on top of another small barren hillock similar to others that intermittently dotted the landscape. Aru made a small fire. Then he fell asleep almost instantly while I stood guard against the ubiquitous wild dogs of Australia. With darkness came the glowing eyes and incessant yipping. Around midnight, a large wild dog emerged from the shadows and slowly approached me, ready to leap. All of the yippings ceased. I sat down, crossed my legs, placed my spear and spear chucker across my lap, put my right hand onto the ground with the palm facing upwards, and waited. The wild dog crept closer and closer until our noses almost touched. He sniffed me, then placed his left paw on my palm and stared intensely into my eyes.

    I whispered so that only he could hear me, My wife told me one of my co-workers had been cursed. If it is true, who cast the spell? A vision of that person appeared. How do I break the spell?

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