Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 14, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in an unknown residence where there are a number of unfamiliar people, though most of them seem friendly and cheerful. I am working with mixing music (with a cassette deck) but using a commercial folk music recording and I end up playing the cassette in reverse (by the tape being reinserted into the cassette inside-out, though the dynamics are muddier than digital reversal).

Over time, I begin to hear actual words, which turns out to be “Mama always tried to give me what I needed…” with additional lyrics about the singer’s father. There is also something about fast food being “fake” or something along those lines with an additional mention of the mother.

I take off my headphones and have an unfamliar male listen and he seems to find it interesting. In actuality, the melody is based mostly on the country song “Okie From Muskogee” (Merle Haggard), though I do not realize this in my dream. Eventually, the lyrics become gibberish (back to sounding more like reversed audio), although I still listen for possible phrases.

Eventually, a chubby biker (unfamliar) with a large brown beard, pulls out my headphone jack and seems to do something to the cassette deck and I soon see it is on its side. This annoys me and, even though he is bigger than me, I start beating him on the head and shoulders with my smaller barbell (without the weights). He is not injured that badly and we somehow end up in a kitchen (possibly loosely modeled after the Loomis Street house kitchen) but I soon wake. (I am fairly certain the biker is associated with Hell’s Angels, thus is this dream’s flight symbolism.)

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The personified preconscious is not always directly associated with a discernible flight symbol (though the preconscious level itself often is) as just being the preconscious personified is inherently viable as dominant waking symbolism on its own. Ending up in the kitchen in my dream relates to mild hunger while sleeping; pretty obvious. (Plus, this is redundantly validated. Even if I was ignorant enough not to know this, it is backed up by the “fake” food reference in the song. “Fake” food would be a subliminal link to knowing that eating in a dream does not give the body actual nutrients.)

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Morning of December 9, 2013. Monday.



My dream, mostly with lucid focus, begins as a sort of practice in martial arts in a building that has a long hallway (south to north). It seems to be on the second floor and seems vaguely modeled after the King Street boarding house though with partial layouts reminiscent of my high school in Florida. Over time, I deliberately do all of my movements in slow motion, which seems kind of hilarious. I run down the hallway (in a sort of leaping run) and it feels very “real” in the sense of the slow motion aspects.

Another person comes up to me, but I just punch him in the jaw. It seems that he also has the ability to move in slow motion on his own and it is also hilarious as he starts to fall backwards in slow motion but is able to stabilize himself and stay standing somehow - which is good, as he was smaller and weaker and I did not want to actually hurt him. (I actually wait for seemingly a long time to see if he recovers as such as he is falling - or seems to be falling - in slow motion.) Another person decides to make an annoying comment (I can tell this by some sort of telepathic awareness), but (just as he approaches and before he opens his mouth to speak) I deliberately place them into a much slower slow motion than the present ongoing slow motion speed. I figure that by the time others and I leave the martial arts school, he will only just then start to form his mouth into the first word of what he was originally going to say and no one will be there to hear him. That also seems hilarious.

Night of November 5, 1984. Monday. (To morning of November 6.)



As some of this one facet of a small part of my lifelong “story” involves hundreds of pages, I will include only basic information here, and a copy of Zsuzsanna’s journal page from when she was much younger and written long before we made real contact (though at the time of this dream). There are many more entries both already online and not yet posted anywhere that add hundreds more unexplainable layers that prove (for me) dreams are often a composite of precognition and remote viewing and there is absolutely no one that could convince me otherwise, especially twenty years on in a blissful, sensuous and spiritual marriage and with healthy children (though I do understand how there are deceitful people that, for whatever reason, are somehow against marriage and family and who sadly deny love itself - you the reader have likely seen it yourself many times - they are very good at pretending and creating fabricated drama).

There were earlier “prototypes” and precursors for this dream, and there were many that implied the eventual “battle” between Susan R and the “mystery girl”, this still being years before it was confirmed that hundreds of my childhood dreams implemented more precise precognition and remote viewing, which has turned out for me to be what dreams mainly are. The “mystery girl” dreams were all precognitive; they not only “introduced” me to my soulmate before she was born, they revealed every minute detail from the unlikely accent and cultural mix, to birthplace (exactly inverted to my birth place) from directly across the ocean (as shown in other entries).

Before the Blue Pearl (or “blue flame” or Merkaba) was more dominant in my perception, I saw it in Susan R. My first dream where I “ended up” with the “mystery girl” in an implied marriage would not be accepted as truth by most, due to it having elements of maturity for me at the age of eight (I am never in a mood to debate so I will not go into it). It was validated many times that Brenda W was the wife-to-be “stand-in”, which was validated again in 1991 just prior to real contact with my wife-to-be (and involving the “blue sun”).

My main castle dream implied a battle between Susan R and the “mystery girl” (who looked exactly like my wife-to-be in every way and with the same mixed heritage and same intriguing mixed Romani/Hungarian/Australian accent). The castle was implied to be beyond the area (at the end of the hanging bridge) where the “Bridge Over a Prehistoric World” dream took place - which started with watching Susan R (a transparent “blue egg” around her) leave me and ended with me hugging my wife-to-be archetype. The castle exists high in the sky, on a floating small hill, but only of partial land area, with plant roots hanging down from underneath. It seems to be “another realm” with a different “speed” of time (hard to explain). I get the clear impression that the castle stays only in areas where night exists.

The castle also has areas of temple-like rooms as well as oddly modern neon lights in some areas (almost like a discotheque). It is very vivid. Some lights are too bright to directly look at. I do look over the edge of the floating hill at one point, and see the view as if from an airplane flying very high; I see the lights of a larger city far below, barely perceptible at times. Susan R seems oddly upset at looking at her own reflection (though I eventually discover that is not what she is looking at in the mirror). She frustratingly yells “get out” at the mirror, which seems odd to me though reminds me strongly of the scene from “Fear No Evil”, first seen March 3, 1969.

My mental “connection” to Susan is broken (there were events prior to this which I do not recall). The “mystery girl”, wearing a black dress and a diamond necklace and some sort of unusual swept-back “crown”, emerges from the mirror, quite royal-looking, with glowing green catlike eyes and quite precise, sensual motions. I am amazed by her beauty. It is her. “Queen of the Gypsies”. Well, at least a dazzling princess. Orange-tinted skin. I even detect a trace of Aboriginal Australian.

From here, the two girls fight in an epic battle of screeching voices and incredibly intense and eerie screeching wind. They are arguing about me, my purpose, my birth, where I should live, and who I “belong to”. I believe the “mystery girl” is “screeching” and “whistling” the loudest and affirming that I am hers. It is very strange to hear this - like the wind itself “arguing” with itself, like lightning bolts “wriggling” against each other, like clouds trying to “strangle” each other. The Merkaba appears to be spinning out of control for a time sort of knocking into each girl’s silhouette for a time. The voices reach a point where they are not human-sounding at all in any way.

One of them falls to the ground far below, eventually, but I am not sure who; I only see her silhouette falling, back first with arms out. I think I have had enough commotion, so I turn to leave…almost finding my way out before someone behind me asks “Where are you going? You cannot go alone”. I am not alarmed but I do not see her directly. I only see her shadow on the wall. I wake.

This “battle” and long-term outcome (as some already know) could not have taken place solely within my own dreams, but could only have happened in a collective sense (in the supraconscious perhaps) or “another plane” of reality. There have been a number of dreams where I eventually was absolutely sure of this and there is not the slightest evidence to the contrary. What is also interesting is that my wife also loosely describes the Barbara Steele movie I was fascinated by as a young child and it remains a favorite movie (1964’s “Danse Macabre” aka “Castle of Blood” aka “Castle of Terror”) yet she had never heard of it or seen it. In a way, this dream is actually a “replay” of some aspects of it.

There were other dreams involving Susan R and the “mystery girl” (wife-to-be) within the same setting or relative to one event or another. I do not know the dynamics behind this, as I had never contacted Susan after high school. (In fact, she is the only one I have never been able to contact or find out more about out of all my classmates through all school years. I did hear she was married, though. Another girl with her same full name, unrelated I believe, married someone with my name - and my surname is not very common at all.)

My wife Zsuzsanna’s older poem from her teenage years follows in text - which implies another layer of reality and which matches my dream above as well as being from the same time period (do not forget the thousands of other facts that confirmed the “mystery girl’s” identity many years before I met her).

A castle on the hill

gleaming lights and flights of stairs

running through the corridors

looking for the door

it’s a mystery where are you going

you cannot go alone

for there is something eerie

watching the lights fade away

then all I heard was a shout

a voice pleading to get out

it’s a mystery where will I go

I cannot go alone

A mystery in the castle

A mystery of neon lights

A mystery of you and me

A mystery the facts of love