Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 20, 2018. Wednesday.



I am in an unfamiliar residence of which is implied to be our present home. A few members of my family had been looking through old letters and postcards. Although I read some of them, I only recall the writing on the last postcard I read, which is a mix of printed letters and handwriting.

The message reads, “I am looking forward to that time when we will be able to determine whether or not we are in Bedlam”.

The letter B of “Bedlam” is in fancy cursive and in uppercase. It has two extra curved lines that sweep back from the top and bottom.

For some reason, I practice copying that person’s writing. I am not sure who had written or sent the postcard. Our oldest daughter seems both amused and amazed at my talent in copying the other person’s writing almost exactly. Music is playing from seemingly nowhere, of which I do not consider as being unusual.

I cheerfully say, “Do you know how hard it is to make that kind of a ‘B’?”

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It does not take much intelligence to see the dream state indicator of which is “Bed” of “Bedlam”. This is a lucid trigger that did not activate and is a reference to determining whether one is asleep in bed. (I have experienced many such dreams over the years.) Louder and clearer music “from nowhere” near the end of a dream is common. It sometimes seems analogous to the ending theme of a movie.

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Morning of March 17, 1997. Monday.



This was a vivid dream of getting packages in the mail as well as being aware there are many older unopened ones. One is filled with jellylike candy.

The other packages are related to some sort of subscription in eventually building robotic animals. There are many parts of different birds that have to be built into “real” birds but which remain primarily statue-like. The heads do have veins and gore hanging from the necks but when attached in the kit, they make birdlike sounds. At one point in the background, our son seems to be in a cage for his protection from the larger mechanical or electronic parts in the room, though this does not feature more clearly.

I soon notice a large bear head that also has veins and flesh hanging from the neck. It also has a couple white plastic tubes and metallic cables connected to it. The head is somehow “alive” and “breathing” with a clicking sound. Some tubes come out of the side of the head as well.

There are also two parts of the top part of a bear’s body; front and back “shells” with possibly real bear skin and fur and there are also attachable bear “arms” (front legs) and paws. I tell my wife to move away as I am ready to build the “bear droid”, as I do not feel fully safe with the kit, which was apparently a free year’s subscription from a cheap multilevel-marketing company which is also likely involved in scams. The front and back skins zip together at the sides when the sections are attached. The bear head actually complains about how long it is taking me to complete his form. I let it believe what it wants to, due to not feeling safe in contradicting anything it claims about the scenario.

I ask the bear head if it needs food but it says no; it apparently does not need organic food to function (though it may need fuel or batteries at one point - I am not sure and do not ask). I attach the head to the upper torso and eventually realize that there are no bottom section parts in the house - and the electronic or mechanical torso is not complete yet (apparently relative to missing parts of the longer subscription that have not yet arrived). They may not even send the rest of the parts due to postal rates rising or the subscription running out. When mostly complete on the top, it tries to lick or “kiss” me at one point but I move away. I am not sure if it is just being playful, but I am somewhat aggravated and am wondering about its “programmable” nature and why there would be built-in annoying subroutines as such. My wife seems somewhat worried about the whole idea of a mechanical bear “droid” or even a realistic though mostly stationary model being in the house. Thus far, it cannot walk around (at least very well) at any rate and seems slightly top-heavy relative to its incompleteness.

At one point, there is a knife in its paw which I take away without any difficulty and from there, I cut the head vertically in half, having had enough doubt about the whole works - and it then complains that I do not like it - almost as if it is personal. The “bird droids” make a fuss as I cut the rest of it up into pieces as if there is some sort of link (though I do not intend to destroy or even damage the birds). I awake with the sound of louder birds in real life.

Morning of November 6, 1996. Wednesday.



I opened one of my journals randomly and noticed that it included the usual instance of precognition (of which I did not always record in detail as it was too common - in fact, there were days when it was almost continuous on a conscious level, but spontaneous and usually impersonal).

I have that November 6th (Wednesday) in 1996 was a “good day” but had recorded a strangely negative dream of being a homeless person; an “old drunk”, I think (which is about as far from my real nature as conceivably possible) of a completely different background (white Australian, I think), and being yelled at by a Korean woman from a nearby church mission. I do not understand what she is saying. I am mostly sleeping on the sidewalks in a larger city - not exactly sure where, perhaps Sydney. There was no reason for me to have dreamt this.

On the next day, Thursday, November 7, 1996 - I had gotten a completely unexpected missionary-type letter from a Korean church. We had not gotten any other letters of this nature and we had not been living there at that address that long. Normally, though, precognition of this particular nature unfolds within the same day, often an hour or two after waking. Similar events have happened often before throughout my life, sometimes involving me taking on the odd emotions and ideas of a letter or cassette tape I had not gotten yet and did not know was on its way. In one case, I actually found myself inexplicably yelling about something (I did not even seem to be “me” at all in mood) when I lived in Wisconsin and some of the exact phrases I used were on a cassette tape an adopted sister (A Snowbird, from California) sent me that I had no idea she recorded - from a disillusioned male (relating to Native American rights) talking who I did not even know and regarding some of the same detailed unusual events. Events like this have happened continuously throughout my life, both picking up on someone before I knew of them (even “unwillingly” projecting their mood), and some sort of remote viewing from an unknown consciousness that seemed a part of me - usually with exact details of an “already known memory” of what I could not have possibly known.