<THOUGHTS

My Honored
June 12 2013

Early this morning I woke up and Hamish was in the act of talking to me. I hate when the Aliens talk to me first thing in the morning when I am too tired to get up and start typing things down. So now we have yet another conversation lost forever because I did not write it down. But I can of course remember it and tell you all what it was like.

Hamish starts by showing me a mental image of the mountains where his race of fire engine red Dragon Turtles are hiding. Hamish talks to me about his race. He has never opened up to me like this before. He talked about how his race doesn't want to work for the Draconian Agenda. It is more and more clear to me how Hamish is not your typical Reptilian. Typical Reptilians are vicious, and I realize that the confusion many of you readers must be having as to why I can have such a loving fun relationship with my Reptilian is simply because Hamish is not your typical Reptilian. He is an entirely different breed.

Hamish is sweet, he is gentle. He is cute and fun and perky. He has flat duck feet and a turtleshell soft cushion humpback. He is very different from "real" Reptilians like Snake and Azul. Hamish is... special. But don't get me wrong, this Dragon Feet has the same vile smell of Draconians. He is also very dominating and territorial and has thrown yours truly several times and shown power, which I love. But he is different. He is not part of the main Draconian Reptilian thing.

Hamish's race is dying out. He is an endangered species, he told me. This breaks my heart. I want there to be fire engine red Dragon Turtles for ever. I have promised him I will do anything in my power to help preserve their race.

So Hamish has a Dragon Turtle girlfriend in a cave in the mountains. She is cute. She is smaller than Hamish and she seems very gentle and careful. She always looks at Hamish when Hamish is there with her. It is, as if Hamish is her strength and support, as he has been mine. I can only wonder what goes on in Dragon Turtles' minds when they see each other. Hamish and the girl have been trying to make eggs. But I think there might be a problem. Perhaps that the eggs are not developing, or that they won't hatch. But I have known for a long time that Hamish and his Red Turtle girlfriend have a nest of eggs together. And Hamish visits her whenever he can.

He feels very protective of his race in those mountains. Hamish doesn't want me to tell anyone where they are. These Dragon Turtles are not the same as the Draconian Reptilians of the Agenda. Sure Hamish is working with the Agenda, but the politics are somewhat complicated. It could be that Black One Malik has forced him, like he has forced so many other races including the Alpha Orions and Alpha Centaurians. Hamish fears Malik so much, and Malik isn't nice to Hamish.

But that is where I come in. Somehow I am helping Hamish personally. Not just helping Hamish do some work on behalf of the Agenda, but Hamish personally benefits from my servitude. I know that my eggs make hybrid embryos that Hamish can eat. But there is something else going on. I have twelve DNA strands whatever that means, and so I am one of few humans who are suitable to be used in these genetics projects. That is why, on a planet with countless millions of fertile human women, the Aliens still all gather around and fight over rights to my eggs. And Hamish defends rights to my eggs ferociously. And I have told Hamish that my eggs are his. I have given myself to Hamish and I will do anything I can to help Hamish and his race.

Somehow Reptilians have problems with their fertility. My fertility will somehow be used to impart fertility back into the Reptilians. I haven't been told all of this story yet, and I have certainly not asked. I want them to tell me in their own time. But if I and my eggs can somehow help Hamish and his race of fire engine red Turtle Dragons, I would do anything at all. I would live and die for this Dragon Kissy Feet. I would literally do anything for him. I have never cared for anyone as much as I deeply love him.

But after Hamish had finished telling me his fantastic story of Dragon Turtles in the caves of a mountain, Dragon Turtleness with a nest of eggs with Hamish and some problems with fertility and them being an endangered species, I rolled back to sleep. I was changed forever. He had shared with me a most personal and deep compelling story, opened up to me and he was more of a person than he ever was. Like you can know someone for many years but one day they really open up to you and talk and share their all with you and you realize the person he was. I have never been so close to Hamish as I am now. He shared with me so much of his world.

Recolor of image original from

I was then going to go back to sleep, or at least spend a few more hours just dozing in bed. But then Hamish does a very typical Hamish type of thing. He puts his red scaly hand right next to my nose and face. It is in the other dimension of course but the veil between our worlds is ever so thin sometimes. At first I am pleased, and surprised, seeing his bright fire engine red scaly hand right next to my nose. But then I see that he is in fact holding in his hand a dead severed off human finger. "Hamish! Noo!!!" I scream and quickly get out of bed.

It is my sausage. - Hamish says now

It is many mornings that Hamish has gotten me out of bed. Sometimes he pulls me up in bed and then it's easy to get up after that. Some mornings he likes to wrestle me around in bed a bit, push me up against the wall, pull me up on all fours, or have me on my back and then yank my upper body straight up, or sometimes he even manages to hoist me up sitting on folded knees in bed and with back straight up. But I love that. It is good morning with Dragon. This morning the sight of him putting a dead human finger right under my nose got me straight up from bed. I fussed at him a bit, but then I remember how he loves those snacks. And there was that one time he was going to give me a dead human finger snacks in exchange that I would be so kind to clear the space in the bedroom closet so that he could camp out in the closet. I decided to clear out the closet but I didn't accept any snack fingers from him.

It's like having a cat that brings home dead mice. I once had a big white and orange cat who brought home moles all the time. Now I have a Dragon that brings home dead finger snacks. And he gets all perky and mischevous with those fingers. Like it's something fun.

I would live and die for my Dragon, and I would do it thousandfold. I got to see his Duck Kissy Feet again clearly this morning. He has those twig skinny legs and flat red duck feet with webbed toes.

Here is Hamish from just a while ago:

We don't love each other so much. - Hamish says about the girlfriend Dragon
No, Hamish. - me says
We just get along real nice. - Hamish
Do you love her? What do you think of her? Do you have sex with each other? Hamish? Do you make eggs with her? - me
No, and she is not my lover. - Hamish
Then what is she? Does she make eggs? Do Turtle Dragons make eggs? Hamish? - me

And a little while later Dragon says:

I have to smell, so that I have a territory. - Hamish
I understand. I understand that. - me

It makes sense. I have known Dragons to mark their territory and presence with their scent. Draconians have a very strong pungent odor. Each Draconian has a very unique scent. I have described Hamish's scent as being the smell of cheese, vomit, and pancreas. Malik on the other hand smells of pestilence, death, sewer, rancid socks and a dead rat. When Malik or another Draconian has been visiting in my room, Hamish will comment on their scent still lingering on and he doesn't like that.

And once when I was changing the sheets I had piled up the old sheets on the floor and Hamish stomps his feet on that pile and then pees on the sheets, because they had smelled like me. Hamish also scent marks his grooming station rugs. By stomping on them and spending a lot of time on those rugs he imprints them with his scent. If I wash the rugs he complains and tells me that they don't "smell right" anymore. I bought him the biggest reddest and softest plush bathroom rug for our one-year anniversary of knowing each other, thinking he would fall all in love with it. I know I would. But he rejected the brand new rug, because "it didn't smell right", and opted for his favorite pink bathroom snuggy which was older, smaller, and not nearly as soft for his Ducky Feet to stomp on. But such is the mind of a Dragon.

I don't like to stomp on them. - says Dragon now
I just do it to clean my feet. - Hamish
Yes, Hamish. Thank you for telling me. - me
And they smell after that. - Hamish

I am just ever so honored that a Dragon Turtle would use my bathroom rugs for his personal hygiene. He asks before gently sitting down on sofas. But he goes ahead and grooms on our bathroom rugs without asking. I just find that delightful. And he spends a lot of time grooming. Draconians shed scales and it bothers them. Hamish has separation anxiety about his shedded bits of scales. That is why he is careful to save and collect every bit of scales on those rugs.

It is a fascinating piece of Dragon psychology, Hamish and his behavior about shedding scales. Now, shedding seems to be an absolutely necessary physiological function. Like women who menstruate, humans have always had to try to understand why women bleed, from there. It is a similar distress and puzzle to Dragon Hamish as to why he sheds. Why does his skin fall off? The scales are a vital part of both his personal identity and his racial identity. He has a strong sense of self, a person in that body. We humans are in large part able to distance ourselves from our body, to where we think of ourselves as "me" being "inside of a body". But Hamish to a greater extent thinks of himself as his body, as his scales. Shedding causes him a lot of anxiety.

I have tried to teach him that shedding is a process of renewal, or to at least let him feel calm and neutral about shedding. It scares him to shed, when his skin turns white and large sheets rub off and fall off and remain as large flaps of skin that have fallen off of him. It is scarier for him than how human children feel when their teeth fall off. He saves those sheets of scales, he stomps them into the plush fibers of the rug, and he spends a lot of time thinking about his "sheddings", talking about them, or showing them to me or to other visiting Aliens.

What is interesting, is how other Aliens react to his shedded scales. Ken Bakeman's Pteradactyl squatted over Hamish's woven bathroom rug for a long time, picking up sheets of his shedded scales and calling them valuable as gold. Azul on the other hand couldn't care less when Hamish was showing his sheets of scales to him Azul scared him off and Hamish hid in the "table hole", that empty space underneath the desk.

But such is the life with a Dragon. A human woman and a Dragon Turtle. I cannot fully explain the deep relationship that I have to this Dragon. I love him, because of who he is. I love his color. That bright fire engine red color. The orange in the blunt bumps in two rows from his forehead along the long tubular neck, on his hump back and on the arms. I love that sticky orange fluid that oozes from his ruptured blunt bumps and makes him glow a neon orange in the dark. His flat duck feet. That little tiny sock puppet head and face of his. The little nostrils between his eyes. That soft fleshy toothless mouth, that he sometimes opens to show that he is angry or disgusted.

Palate clicks with Hamish. Grunts, and grunt-purrs. Sometimes the goose basooning sound that scares me if Hamish yells at me. His yellow bulging eyes with a vertical slit. That turtleshell hump back, that he sometimes flexes to show me. The little things that he says, Yes, No, and Yes-No. No, Santa! Every time that he says No, Santa! my heart just melts. Because it is so dang cute. The way that his body and scales feel. That soft rubbery feel to his scales, when I thought that Dragon scales would feel rough.

Hamish, the love of my life. I would live and die for you my Honored Scales and Scutes. And I will tremble before your power. What some of you might not know, is that Hamish and me actually started out with first a tumultuous relationship, where I was trying to get used to his constant insistance that I honor him, and he was establishing territory. In the beginning Hamish was acting more cruel and brute than he does now. And what you also don't know is that we actually started out with a sexual relationship. He would cause me intense sexual pleasure, but he doesn't do that anymore. But that was a long time ago. (Read all the sexy details in the book Letters to SETI: Real? Or Imaginary?, cause I sure won't be posting it on the internet. It's a bit sexually graphic to say the least. But yeah I wrote letters about it to SETI.)

I will always love Dragon Turtle, in a love that does not exist between humans, in a love that does not exist in Dragons, a love that somehow exists between a human and a Dragon, somehow when a human mind realizes the person that lives behind yellow bulging reptile eyes and fire engine red rubbery scales, a love that grows and is born when a human breathes in sync with a Dragon Turtle when there is silence and nothing else exists than the person who lives in a Dragon body who breathes. Breathing, is life. The inhale and exhale of a Dragon Turtle, when nothing is said. The things that his duck feet feel when he stands on surfaces, that I feel through him when we are telepathically so close that I sense every nuance of his being. The feet, the breathing, the Dragon Turtle. I am so deep in him.

When a man and a woman truly love each other, it is as if they can live through one another. Breathe together, think together, feel each other's emotions together. It is not a selfish kind of love. I do not claim him as my own, and I would easily let him go if he ever chose to leave me. Every flaring of his nostrils, every time that his upper eyelids close diagonally across his eyes in what is a Dragon's smile, when he feels the power and flexes his dragon turtle hump back for me, or when he makes a pleased exhale that speaks the word Yes.

When he says things that make me laugh, and when his fire engine red soft rubbery scales are just near me. When he leaned his long tubular neck gently against my chin and said he was drying his scales on me, because he got himself wet in the shower. When Hamish stands on his bathroom rug grooming his scales and stomping and wiping his feet clean while I take a shower or a bath and we are both just grooming ourselves together in silence. When he sprinkles some of his shedded bits of scales into my bath water. And when he lifted up my cardigan and placed a rubbery sheet of shedded scales on my chest. Or that time when he opened the palm of my left hand up, and placed a little piece of white rubbery shedded scales into the palm of my hand.

His smell

My eggs are here! - Hamish declares now

The smell of Hamish has become something comforting that I know as he. The smell of Hamish, and that sticky viscous orange fluid that oozes from his burst blunt bumps on his body. That sticky orange that is he. We have lived together so closely for the past two years. Every day of my life he is here. When I wake up in the morning he is here. Watching me. Guarding closely my eggs, that are his eggs. When I go to sleep at night I wish him a good night and tell him to wake me up at night if he needs me for anything.

When I am close to him, truly really close to him, I fear him. He is a vicious beast, and he is always larger than I realized when I see him close, in those few real close encounters I have had of him in the other dimension. But I just want to be with him. I just want to be with my Dragon Turtle. I could melt myself and seep into his fire engine red scales. Live as one united with his breath, the flaring of his nostrils, those sock puppet eyes that see the world. He has been staring at me and sharing his world his life with me for so long, that I know him better than I have known myself, or anyone. I have seen the life that he is, in those red scales. And I could live in them, forever, without ever feeling lost.

Hamish is my Turtle. - me
Yes, No, Hamish is. - Hamish disagrees

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