Lockdown dream and the Tibetans

by Jon Rappoport

September 27, 2021

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A person I knew a long time ago
Or so it seemed
Came back to visit me
We were sitting in his car
On a busy street
A block away
A hundred thousand
Were facing off with cops in military gear
My visitor said
“I’m selling vaccines now and I think you’d be
A great member of my team
We go door to door
And peddle a shot in the arm
To prevent the plague”—
Someone threw a grenade
It bounced twice outside the car and exploded
He and I were floating in space
He was a salesman on the road in the sky
Hawking his product
He had interplanetary ambitions
He wanted to spread segments of RNA
Across the Milky Way
He said, “Remember that night at school
I got drunk
And tried to burn down the dorm?”
It all came back to me
He was the guy who was always
Sitting in class writing notes to himself
Making drawings
Talking about poetry
And now
A man on a narrow mission
To save the stars
We were in a spaceship
Speeding past
Forests filled with animals
And floating cities
People were shooting at us
“Suppose there’s no place to land?” I said
“We’ll find one,” he said
He voice was big and confident
He was smiling
And I was The Witness
It was my job to document
A stretch of time
In which things had changed
He took out a syringe
And slapped in a vial
And shot himself in the arm
His face turned blue
And he went into spasms
Then he straightened up
And took a deep breath and let it out
“Nothing like it!” he said
“Puts a jolt into you to start the day!”
His blue face faded to a dull green
“I have to feed this to the natives,” he said
I said to him, “You’ve gone interdimensional”
“That’s what my whole life was leading to,” he said. “A different
Form of death. This is the big lesson.”
“A lesson for who?”
“For everyone who’s tired of the every-day grind, who wants
Adventure. You realize how many people want to throw in
The towel?”
We were sitting in an old dusty theater. The lights were on.
A tall naked to the waist chieftain wearing a large headdress came down the aisle and stopped at our row. He ignored me
And said, “Did you bring the shit, Bob?”
Bob looked down and pointed at
Three suitcases.
“It’s all in there,” he said.
The chief broke out into a wide grin
It reminded me of Bill Gates’ Howdy Doody smile
—AND THEN I SAW what the old Tibetans
called the Great Void
everybody looks around and tries to figure out what to do
because the long hustle of discovery is over
and all the explorers have been paid off
There is nothing left
except a few magicians
living in cold mountains
punching holes in space-time at will
In Lhasa they were faced with that Nothing
and they turned to it
and finally saw universe
is a product
of mind
they sat in the holy rivers of energy
and took apart the river and the energy
down to Nothing
sat in it for
indeterminate length of no-time
stopping all creating
because they could
and then emerged
those few
magicians in the cold wasted hills and
and said WELL
if all you folks want to elect a billion reincarnated hopalong cassidys
as your presidents go ahead it doesn’t matter
we’re out here on the edge
inventing and destroying dimensions
—–I chained my old college friend Bob to his seat in the theater
I lit the suitcases on fire
And said to the chieftain
“Your connection just went null, pal
This is the new regime
If you to try to grab it
And mold it
It burns”
I walked out of the theater
Busy street
And hailed a taxi
I rode over to a deli on 53rd St.
went inside, sat down, and ordered the brisket
Nobody was wearing a mask
A waitress who looked 80 years old
Brought over a plate and set it down
There was nothing on it
And I mean NOTHING
It was The Void
And she said
“You can have it if you want to”
And I said, “Not just now”
“It’ll wait” she said
And winked at me
And it was all right
I floated through the deli
And back out into the street
The night is long
The worm is turning
The cops are starting to realize they want to stand with the anti-vax protestors
A cop cracked a man’s skull
The man is in the ICU fighting for his life
The sadists know no bounds
But neither do we
I know the mountain where I once was
And the valley where I am now
And the sky in between
I’m looking at the line of cops in their military gear behind their shields
And I can see they’re terrified of the NOTHING
And now they’re falling into that NOTHING
And screaming
Because they have no one to smash to prove they exist
And they keep falling
And falling
And hundreds of thousands of us walk through them
On our way to Grid Central to turn the lights back on

Exit From the Matrix

(To read about Jon’s mega-collection, Exit From The Matrix, click here.)

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free NoMoreFakeNews emails here or his free OutsideTheRealityMachine emails here.

9 comments on “Lockdown dream and the Tibetans

  1. ReluctantWarrior says:



    With the sadistic fervor growing with the rise of the 4th Reich around the world I thought I would offer this poem that I wrote many years ago as a reminder to myself about the difficulty and power of forgiveness. It was a good lesson for me that I have carried with me in my heart to this day. What I see happening really makes me mad and I want to punch that guy with that ‘Howdy Doody smile right in the face.’

    Prayer At Ravensbruck

    Is life a fatal fugue of despair and deception
    The cross on which we audition for ‘God’s’ resurrection?
    And if it were not for the trials of you and me
    What purpose for our better Angels to be?
    The good book says time and again
    That we are no more than the sinful sons of men
    And though we may cry out to our dear LORD
    We were born to suffer ‘as the sparks fly upward.’
    Is the accepting life born on thorn and thistle
    the only real immortal epistle?
    And though mighty armies have fought for this Lord
    I choose the pen and not the sword.
    And how can we fathom the course history took
    In the beautiful lost flowers of Ravensbruck
    Where such grotesque suffering set the stage
    For the greatest work on prayer’s page.
    That such an act of noble forgiveness
    Became a stroke of pure Angelic genius.
    No words more eloquently spoken
    Greater than the sum of all love’s earthly tokens.
    At Ravensbruck lying near dead child
    A written testament without malice or guile
    That points the way beyond time and space
    In the drying tears staining that little face.
    And in that crumpled paper lying on the ground
    Something more than words profound,
    A tear, a wound, a gentle hope
    A journey beyond Calvary’s slope
    And in these words of heavenly mastery
    Are swallowed all the crimes of history:

    “LORD, remember not only the Men
    and Women of good will also those of
    ill will.

    But do not only remember the
    suffering they have inflicted upon us.

    Remember the fruits we have brought,
    thanks to this suffering–
    our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility
    the courage, the generosity, the
    greatness of heart which has
    grown out of all this.

    And when they come to judgement, let
    all the fruits we have borne be their


  2. Opie Poik says:

    WORLD BOMBSHELL: Leaked DARPA document, DRASTIC analysis confirms attack on humanity using aerosolized, skin-penetrating nanoparticle spike proteins


    So, no escape. They’ll chemtrail us with the vax. AND:

    Salad vaccines? Mad scientists want to grow mRNA covid “vaccines” in genetically modified lettuce, so you can EAT spike protein bioweapons as required by government


    • Pam says:

      I thought the salad vaccine might be a joke but I looked it up and it’s on the University website. It feels like we’re living in a strange sci-fi movie these days.

  3. Paul says:

    A lways
    B rilliant
    B eautiful
    A lways

  4. Ruth's Truth says:

    As I read your ethereal poem, I visualized the end of this holographic staged play – the plandemic. To maintain any form of freedom, Awake and Alert minds deconstruct and reconstruct un-times events all the time/all in time. Thank you for the reminder!

  5. Paul says:


    So loyal Gabby wants to fly
    Upon rollicking hooves neigh
    With Eye to Sky High

    He tosses him on Phoenix Fire
    & Whispers…
    “You’ll enjoy the ride,
    But hang on tight,
    & dance with saddle side.”

    He slaps Topper’s mighty thigh
    With a sharp handed Clap
    & Screams toward Horizon

    Hands-held tight & close
    To throated-curving Knight
    Of four-level chessmen
    & Squared field,
    Burnyng! Bryght!

    To ride passages To Adventure
    With pursuing & driving reins

    Striking chariot eyes…


  6. Roundball Shaman says:

    “I’m selling vaccines now and I think you’d be
    A great member of my team
    We go door to door
    And peddle a shot in the arm”

    A shot to the arm. A shot to the heart. A shot to the mind. A shot that’s today’s unholy communion cup that delivers anything but absolution and salvation. A shot to the soul.

    “It was my job to document
    A stretch of time
    In which things had changed”

    All of us alive today have the great responsibility to be Witnesses to the climactic orgy of devolution and decay that results from the World’s voluntarily straying from the Path that leads to Life. May we hope that someone is left to comprehend and remember what we’ve all Witnessed and how we got to the dead-end alley we did. And why.

    “… and they turned to it
    and finally saw universe
    is a product
    of mind…”

    What a strange creation we are. One that refuses to see and believe and accept what we truly are in favor of illusions and delusions. Sort of like a race of cats that simply refuses to ever believe that they are cats. How does a cat who denies its own cat-hood ever expect to get anywhere or achieve any kind of a level of understanding?

    A cat would never do this. But we might.

  7. Sher says:

    My unvaxxed friend just died NOT because of covid, but from the Fentanyl (it all comes from China, btw) which is given when they do the unnecessary intubation for the ventilator.

    He was on the phone a few minutes before, and his wife (who only got to be by his side because she has a fake id) said he went into cardiac arrest within seconds of being given the sedative.

    The day he died, he said several times, by text and phone, that the hospital staff were giving him shit about not being vaxxed. He said they were total jerks about it. He was well loved in Tais, so they made an example out if the unvaxxed man, called it “complications of covid”, but really, they killed him with Fentanyl.

  8. Pam says:

    Jon, This poem turns out to be my first introduction to your work and I find it strangely hopeful that there are still people around who can write something like this. Love it, especially the part about the Tibetans and the Void. It’s a nice reminder of the only thing I know organically, (but don’t know in my head) is that “none of this matters”, but in a good way. It’s so easy to forget reality in these times, when the world has gone mad, and to get hypnotized by the media and internet and the same old collective bullshit that just keeps cycling round and round through history. Anyway, Thanks for this dream and I look forward to diving into more of your work!

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