Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 3, 2010. Saturday.



This has been recurring to some extent for years, so I might as well include a partial scene of it.

I am seemingly on the highest floor of a tall apartment building, though it could be a fancy hotel as I do not think I live there permanently (though if I am in transit, I am not sure of the “before” and “after” locations, either). Looking out from the window, it is higher than all other buildings by several floors. I am not sure of the location or even the country. It is later at night, perhaps near eleven o'clock and there is a strong and steady rain but only mild thunder and lightning. At times, it almost seems like the building is part of a different (higher) dimension, but unlikely, as if it were it would look completely different and not be discernible as a building unless its higher construct was some sort of enigmatic implied 4D hyper-polyhedron that looked like a building from one point of 3D view (or rather the inside of one) - a better term would be an alternate three-dimensional structure in a parallel world, with the window being the portal, I suppose.

There is an enhanced sense of intimacy, of lovemaking (symbolic). This is of a different nature and at far more than one level. I move to the window (which has no screen), being half in the room and half outside. I sit on the window sill after rigging a makeshift seat along one side with a larger pillow folded somewhat L-shaped (because it is a sliding window and the base with the runners would be a bit uncomfortable to straddle directly), my left side evenly staying in the semi-lit warm room and my right side exposed to the cool outside, but the heavier rain is partially tamed by the (unseen) features of the building, it seems - whatever rain drops reach me are like cold forces of physical bliss - almost bordering on “unbearably sweet”. Outside the window is some sort of balcony - with a solid barrier about waist-high, ahead from where I am facing, the balcony has normal access from a door to outside.

I still get a very light awareness of being between worlds or taking “my world” into the exotic and beautiful construct of another, though technically I am not certain if all of this world is as one domain. Still, it seems more intimate and body-wide than an actual act of lovemaking - sort of as an act of joining one physical world to another with my body and overall presence as the “bridge”, due to the whole body being involved in a half and half experience of different sensual cues. I suppose it is hard to describe and I even sway side to side very slightly. This awareness seems to come and go in a strange way, between absentminded ecstasy and a puzzlement as to my present position and what my next event will be or need to be. I deliberately try to be perfectly half and half, although my legs are in different positions each side - no effect on my head in a physical sense other than a slight tingling on one side that does not grow in intensity. I do not really want to leave. I want to be here always and I want the cold hard rain to evenly fall always. Always night and always a semi-lit room to my left. This seems to be some sort of Yin and Yang state where I am both at the same time.

I am reminded of an unusual “trick” where you have your hand and upper arm in cold water on one side and hot water for the other hand, and then switch hands after a time - it is a very strange experience as if the mind cannot deal with the changeover.

Morning of August 12, 2002. Monday.



This is a recurring setting with very similar events in numerous other dreams. I am near the ocean and there is a part of the shore that turns off at a corner where there are more rocks in that direction as well as an upward slope. A lot of other people are around. Some people are there to swim or fish in certain areas but I begin to discover cardboard boxes just under the water that are somehow not ruined. This seems to be why I am here although I am surprised by the larger amount. These boxes, some of which are open (and the contents still not damaged in any way) contain books, board games, toys, and other “treasures”.

There are a few other people who apparently make a living gathering the contents of these boxes. I get the impression that parts of the area under the water are not that deep, and the boxes go out for quite a distance. It is not really that much like a dump under the water, though I am sure there is some junk that is not that useful or valuable. I gather several boxes and am interested in going down as far as possible. Perhaps there are more that have been buried under the ocean bottom over time. In a way, I think I am mentally teleporting the “treasures” to another location, likely to where I am living. (Of course, realistically, books under water for very long would be completely ruined.)

Morning of April 9, 1969. Wednesday.



This is one of many recurring vivid and more defined dream types that “introduced” me to my soulmate long before it dawned on me that the majority of my dreams (the ones that were not immediately precognitive or remote-viewing composites or of certain other types and layers) were related intricately to my distant future. Although certain facets were established even before my wife-to-be was born, this was one of the clearest at this time. I suppose some would think it strange to dream of someone all their life, eventually discover that the person and all prior in-dream nuances and parallels were real, then actually “live the dream”. I have never cared what other people think of this reality of mine, especially as I have only seen deceit and distraction and “cop-out” mentality regarding the unexplained.

This dream scene always took place in one of two areas of the West Elementary School playground. One area was near the north edge of the playground, about the middle section, and just west of the large banyan tree. The other area was more near the south end of the playground, just north of the seesaws.

Other than I, the only other in-dream character was a mysterious dark-haired gypsy girl (seemingly of about seventeen to eighteen or so, no older than twenty) of an olive complexion who spoke with a very unusual accent, which was mixed ethnic (Romani) Hungarian and Australian - something I had never even actually heard in real life. Although she wore black she sometimes also wore pink. Her name was usually Susannah or sometimes Savannah (although that may be a perceived distortion). Later, I came to learn of the Hathor patterns and her actual maiden name and various seeming “codes” throughout history, one set related to the Vaudois, where at least one non-native ancestor was linked to.

These dreams were different in that it often felt as if I was going to sleep within my dream itself (a rather odd awareness). I would be lying on the ground (as a child) and she would be stroking my hair and intoning “sleep…sleep”. She would usually be seated and facing west, my head (to the east) in her lap. She would “confide” in me and say that it would be a long time but that I would eventually live with her (she even said how she was only a baby at the time - which proved to be literal). Of course, I had different associations because I was not sure what this could mean, mostly due to her somewhat motherly nature at times (though she was not like my actual mother). I had been aware of this “mystery girl” before and her first presence was as the large green “animated” eyes only - the earlier Rose Street dreams (which I wrote of in older entries on one site). Also, a classmate and friend, Brenda W, became part of a composite archetype that also represented her in numerous dreams and parallel associations.

The birthplace of this “mystery girl” (Port Kembla) was also directly inverted to my birthplace across the ocean in America. Event after event and “coincidence” after “coincidence”; even though I was aware of certain patterns, I was not aware of the more extreme Pascal-Triangle-like layers until after 1991.

Morning of July 5, 1966. Tuesday.



This was recurring from this time period (after the Fourth of July in 1966) associated with an actual visit to a park; Veterans Memorial Park Campground in Wisconsin. My older sister Carol (half-sister on mother’s side) seems the strongest presence in my dreams for a time, with other older relatives also in the area including my older brother Jim (though only relatives from my mother’s side) and usually no other (either generic or unknown) additional characters. The area seems more isolated than in reality and somewhat bushy though there is an open area where a large house supposedly once stood. All that is left is the fireplace and part of the chimney. However, there is ambiguity here in that it also seems like a brick barbecue deliberately made for the park or at least is apparently mistaken for one or considered as such according to my dream’s back story. There is some uncertainty whether or not to use it or to look for another one (even though no one seems to be carrying food or other supplies). There were several variations of this dream, not that well-documented as I was only five years old at the time, though it is one of my first known recurring dreams. This dream series may have just been caused by a visual association; that is, the similar appearance between a residential fireplace (especially from actual ruins I likely would have have seen) and an outside brick barbecue. I am glad I have these wondrous memories.