“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

I realize that you both are tired. I enjoy speaking with you and wanted merely a few moments of what you might be pleased to call normal conversation. Friends do not always talk of high and weighty matters, and at times when we have the energy left over from our philosophical dissertations, then let us now and then indulge in at least some pleasantries.

It’s almost impossible, I can see, to talk with you in a conversational manner for purely mechanical reasons. If I speak quickly in ordinary tones through Ruburt you simply cannot write fast enough to take the words down. Some night I will speak to you as I choose for my own enjoyment. We shall have an interchange, and for that one night the notes will get the boot. I promise to speak on fairly personal and inconsequential matters so that you do not miss my pearls of wisdom.

(Rob thought the concentration of writing a statement on how I felt would help. Instead my efforts showed what a crazy state I was in. My handwriting just wasn’t my own. No pressure was exerted on the pen. The writing was wavery, very small, and grew even smaller. My prose expression was nothing like my own, childish in fact. Thought or messages or bits of conversation popped to mind and I wrote them down in this weird script.

(My condition: A feeling of weightlessness, of inability to function in the physical world, yet because my motions were so strange this gave Rob the impression that my limbs were heavy; to me they were light as air. I felt relaxed to the ninth degree. Yet all the while my senses were amazingly alert and I conversed with Rob more or less normally. My body seemed to have no physical resistance. When Rob took my hand it was very wet and floppy.