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It's like I've been dropped in to the dream.
I'm stood on a old timely dock with a small black remote like thing in my hand, there's a lot of people on the dock but they're all walking very stiffly in all directions but with no purpose.
Then I'm running and using the remote thing to zap these stiff moving people, I hit one in with head with the zapper and as it hits the floor it's face pops off and below is a robot. Later Ive some how found people I know and we're all running but only one other person has a zapper, we find a house, that has very small doors, which is good because it would seem the robot people can't bend enough to get through the doors. We're hiding inside when they break in through the windows. So we run out through the back door zapping the robot people as we go my friend with the zapper to the front the two girls in the middle and me to the back. We're back on the dock briefly, but it's eerily empty and we find another place to hide, which is actually the same house as the first one we found. my friend charges his zapper while I do a check, when I see someone I used to know, but he has completely black eyes, which means he's one of them so I run around to the front of the house but the others have seen him and are telling me to get him in when I shout hide he's one of them, but he's already seen them and gets in and grabs one of the girls.

12:45
I was a rich male teen. It was my birthday and my best friend and I broke into a cake shop because my businessman dad was too busy and my mom too much on a diet to giver a proper cake. When the police arrived, they discovered that someone else had already broken into the store as well, and something way more serious was going on further in. I couldn't really see what, but I knew it looked serious and I had to persuade the police that we had nothing to do with it. At first they did not want to believe me, but then one of them recognized me as the son of one of the most important citizens in our town and somehow that meant he believed me. When I whined that I had not even yet had my cake, the police let me have some, though I was still under arrest for breaking in. It was chocolate cake with lots of icing.

5:30
In this dream I had a younger brother and we were both minors still. The authorities became interested because they somehow found out that my mom and stepfather would at times leave me or my brother alone for the night. They called me. I explained I was 16 so not an issue, but my brother was only 12, and I thought that was an issue, plus it was not like he and I were left together, but he was left all alone out of some reason. Anyway, I made the case worse by mentioning something else the authorities may want to know about my stepfather - don't recall what it was for sure but it may have been that they also sometimes leave their dog alone over night while they stay in the other house with the cat and my brother. Meanwhile I was with my father. LClearly this dream was supposed to take place soon after my parents divorce and thus I was angry with my mother and her new husband.

In fact I was still so angry I had not yet visited either of their new homes. In this dream they had two. I decided to correct that. So we arrived late at this old mansion.

In the mansion there was this cat in the bed I was going to sleep in. I discovered that when it meowed, I could actually make up the words in the meows. So the cat could talk, but others could not understand, only me. Somehow, I managed to reroute my stepfather's cellphone, so that when the phone rang, the cat started talking in the voice of my stepfather's brother, so the cat became the cellphone. My stepfather talked through the cat phone with his brother.

Later that night around 3:00 am or 3:30am my stepfather's brother actually showed up. He looked nothing like he looks in real life, but was a much younger, much slimmer, much handsomer, dark haired man. He asked my mother why she was holding a glass of wine, was there a party? My mom said that no, she was just having a glass of wine just because, and would he like to join her in some wine. He claimed that he was a recovering alcoholic though, and my mother should have known that. She said then why did you ask about the wine. He said he was hoping there was a party here, that he would have liked a party.

In a later scene I admitted to my stepfather that I had spoken on the phone with the authorities about the leaving alone of my brother and also of the dog, but somehow I managed to explain it in such a way as if the authorities somehow knew already, and I did not tell them of it first, so like I had not ratted on them. Btw, my brother was not with us at the house that night. Perhaps he was alone in the other house with the dog?

In the first dream I was flying some sort of space craft (probably an X-Wing or something as I was flying in a trench in the Death Star) I was trying of course to get a torpedo shot into the exhaust port, however just as I was about to get there one of those purple mines that are in Bosconain mysteriously blocked my path. I tried shooting it out of the way, but it did nothing and my ship crashed into it and went BOOM!
However, I seemed perfectly fine, as I was now inside of the Death star somehow completely unharmed. (I seem to go through a lot of injuries / death in my dreams, but always be perfectly fine) Anyways, then I was running around and found this random generator thing that I simply punched with my fist and the Death Star was toast.

This dream seemed to go on for a very long time, years almost. The first thing I remember is that there was this enormous wall that was decaying, and it seems like I had been in this zombie-infested earth for quite some time. It appeared that I was part of the survivors who had managed to patch together this huge wall between them and the zombies. However, I kept having all of these flashbacks / foreshadows about the zombies eventually breaking through and very many close calls in terms of my escape.

Eventually the dream shifted, and it seemed as if I had been there for years. Now the weird thing is... the wall had decayed completely at this point and there was nothing standing between normal man and flesh-eating zombie, other than some rebar and little concrete chunks from a wall long gone. It was as if the zombies had their own society and were just living in a state of super-poverty and deparation, while we watched on the other side, not much better. The best way to describe it is like the monsters in I Am Legend near the end, where they reach an understanding with the humans and go on to live in some sort of weird primal-instinct society. Anyways, this is what the dream became and it was very interesting. Who knows, maybe it will become a sequel to a great zombie movie.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #157: True Faith

I'm standing outside on a stone path at the top of a hill. There's an elegant white gazebo nearby and a few people milling about. I think to question my reality and I know that I'm dreaming.

I remember that I wanted to try remaining completely calm and collected in my next LD. I sit down on the floor and rest my hands in my lap like I'm going to meditate. I try to relax my mind and just believe that I have all the time in the world.

As I'm sitting, I look around me, taking in the sun and sky, the calmness of the day, the DCs passing nearby... everything about the scene. I announce that "This is my lucid dream." One of the nearby DCs, a young woman, hears me and stops, seemingly curious. She takes a couple of steps toward me and stands there, listening to hear what I might say next.

I get to my feet and start talking about lucid dreaming to the broader crowd. I really go after it, announcing things like "All of this is my lucid dream" and "Whatever I believe will come true". I start getting whipped into a bit of a frenzy, throwing in several f-words, and saying things like "Say it with me now!!"

There's a good-sized crowd of DCs right in there, maybe 20 people or so, all cheering along with me. When I shout something like "I can do anything!" they all shout in agreement. (Couldn't we all use this kind of validation in waking life?)

"Do you know what's behind me? The fucking Colosseum, that's what's behind me!" I look behind me and the geometry becomes weird for a moment and I have to make a strange 270-degree turn rather than a 180. As I do, it looks like the outside of a huge stone structure like the Colosseum. I'm filled with excitement and I hear DCs babbling encouragement to me.

For some reason things destabilize, though, and the dream ends without any opportunity to pick up from the void.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #156: Split

I'm somewhere hazy, talking with IR, a friend from high school. She tells me that she feels like her physical fitness is stagnating and that she's getting old. I'm preparing to disagree when I suddenly become confused and worry that this will be misunderstood and taken as a flirtation. My brain feels stuck in slow motion, and when I wonder why, I realize that I'm dreaming.

IR is gone, and now I'm walking through a darkened hallway. I step through a door into an office with two desks in it. To my left is a window offering a nighttime view of the city. A woman, professional-looking and in her late 30s, walks toward me from the opposite end of the office.

As I prepare to tell her that this is all a dream, the scene "rewinds" a few seconds, and now I'm walking through the door again, and just as before, the woman is at the opposite end of the room. I walk toward her as before, and again the scene resets, placing me back at the door.

Confusion is starting to get the best of me, so from the door I blurt to her (and to me) "I'm having a lucid dream!" She approaches and we exchange a few sentences related to a project that I'm working on, but I can't remember what was said. (I didn't write this dream down until several hours later.)

The scene starts hazing out as she's talking to me, so I move toward her and start kissing her. This seems to keep things on an even keel for a bit, but as things take a shift toward sexytime, it quits working and I wind up in the void.

I rub my hands together for a while, holding things together. My brain feels very foggy and I'm aware that I'm having real trouble thinking clearly in this dream. I just keep rubbing my hands together, hoping that the answer will come to me, but eventually I find myself aware of my physical body.

The amazing part is that when I concentrate, I realize that I can still feel the experience of my dream hands rubbing together. I start getting mixed up about which set of hands is real and which is fake. Sensing the opportunity to "roll out" of the situation and have an OBE-style lucid dream, I try to imagine myself pulling away from my body. It feels like it's working, but the dream takes one last lurch toward instability and collapses.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #155: The Other Half

I'm walking alone on a boardwalk at night, the ocean on my right side. Up ahead I see two men talking on the boardwalk. But there's a smaller figure dragging itself along the boardwalk toward the two men. I look closer and I'm shocked to see that the figure is a woman whose body ends at the waist. She's slowly pulling herself along the floor using only her arms. I'm very upset by this, and the surprise and emotion makes me question reality. I become lucid.

The woman is only about 15 feet away from the two men but they're either oblivious or they don't care. I run up to the woman and crouch down beside her. She glances up at me for a moment and I lock eyes with her. Her face is nondescript, but I focus on it as I imagine that outside of my field of view she has feet, knees, and legs. I visualize and "hear" them scrambling and scraping along the boardwalk as she crawls forward.

When I look down at the rest of her again, her body has gained a set of hips and legs. She gets to her feet as if nothing has happened and walks off down the boardwalk, passing silently by the two men still conversing up ahead. There's no acknowledgement that anything has changed or that I had anything to do with it. In fact, she seems completely unaware of me. This suits me just fine.

A sense of peace settles over me and I look out over the ocean as the dream ends.

10-27-2013 -- Not quite sure where I am, as the earliest part of the dream is fuzzy. Might be at the house on Hickory, might be at the Buena Park Mall. Running around, chasing and being chased in the earliest bits. Eventually come across a halfway cute, but young lady (15-16 I'd guess) who seems to be trying to get together with Larry, a roommate I had at the Amidon house. They are in love, and determined to stay so, but her father (who looks like the evil Mexican bandit from the original A-Team pilot (which I watched on Netflix the other day)) seems to intensely dislike the guy, and just glares at him for several seconds, then Larry just disappears into thin air.

The bandit starts bragging about rewriting time back in 1964, to cause Larry to never have even been born, and the girl is devastated. I can't believe this heartless jerk thinks he has the right to wipe out somebody's very existance just because he doesn't like him. That's just not kosher! "Well, at least you mentioned when you wiped him from existance, so I know when to go to, after I kill you, so I can fix things," I say to him, and I reach for him to kill him with a touch, but he disappears. I hear a slight pop behind me, and start to turn, just to see the bandit reaching for me, and I disappear.

We have a weird sort of chase around the mall, appearing here, disappearing there, each of us trying to catch the other, but as time goes on, we start to realize that even when we don't actually see the other person, we find ourselves disappearing if they get close enough to touch us. It seems we are not able to use our powers against each other directly. Finally, I give up, and just end up strolling through the mall, though I am still keeping an eye out for the bandit, because he will probably try to kill me in another way.

By this point the mall has changed from the Buena Park Mall to a strange dream mall I have frequently dreamed of. It has a layout very similar to the Westminster Mall, with it's three 'wings' and three anchor stores, but I always seem to refer to it as the South Coast Plaza, and it's physical location is more like the South Coast Plaza, as well. I am walking to the western end of the mall, which is where I most often seem to enter and exit this mall (odd, since the bus stops are over on the south eastern corner.) I find myself walking through the mall talking with Steve Robinson from PCUMC, while we kind of half watch Bing Crosby, who is dancing through the mall singing to people for some reason. We wander into a clothing store deep in conversation, and don't even notice Bing singing to us until he turns around and starts back out of the store. I turn to Steve and say "Was that ...?" "Yes, it was," he replies. And we call out a belated thank you to him. I decide I have had enough, and walk out the anchor store, planning to catch a bus and go home.

It's late at night, and I walk out of the mall and am heading toward what is sometimes the Sears auto center, but in this dream, there is a big pizza parlor there, lots of customers, bright lights, and a big lit up sign with a slice of pepperoni pizza on it. As I start walking, I remember my popping around, trying to avoid the bandit guy, and I think if I am able to do that, I ought to be able to teleport, so try to concentrate on teleporting myself home to Buena Park, but it doesn't work. Darn! (That's OK, I end up having a better time where I do end up in the dream.)

I walk south to the street, near the southwest corner of the property, then start walking toward the southeast corner, where the bus stop is, but as I am passing a driveway a big rig is pulling out, and half runs into me. It is trying to make a left turn, but is making it too tight, and is almost hitting a smaller truck (along the lines of an armoured car) that is trying to turn in to the same driveway, and I am just kind of riding on the front of the truck until it is past the armoured car and I can safely jump off. Then I continue along. There are a couple of guys that are hassling a lady walking toward the bus station, but they see me coming and run off. Unfortunately, she decides she is afraid of me, as well, and is running in terror, even when I call out I am not after her and don't have any desire to hurt her. She doesn't believe me, and there is nothing I can really do but ignore her.

I walk up to the bus shelter, and as I enter, I see three women standing there, one of them a slightly older, slim, attractive blonde. She looks at me with a desperate longing in her eyes and asks "Can you see me?" but as soon as she asks it, she disappears. I think back to my teleporting, and the bandit traveling through time, and assume random people are developing weird powers, kind of like on Heroes. I figure this woman is turning invisible, and doesn't seem to have any control over it. But she seemed so very afraid, so I just start talking to the air, hoping she can here me. "I'm guessing that usually nobody can see you. The funny thing is, I could, until you spoke, then I no longer was able to." The woman starts laughing almost hysterically, and the others are laughing as well. It seems I have been pranked! Too bad my teleporting is not working!

Instead I get on a bus. Things are kind of hazy for a brief moment, then I am getting off the bus again, and as I exit I look around, and I have only traveled a block from the bus stop. I didn't actually know where I was going, but it seems I am here. I am at a large apartment complex (or perhaps fancy housing estate) kitty corner from the mall, and while I have never been here before, and don't know any of the details, I know somebody has a room for me to stay at here, and I am kind of drawn to it. The area has a sort of castle-like motif to it, and I walk right into a large mansion that seems to be owned by a nice, mild fellow who looks kind of like Pat Boone, that clean cut sort of look.

We walk down a hall, and he is asking himself "Now where should we put you?" He starts to open one door and I catch a glance of a bunch of cool balloon sculptures in Qualatex's neon assortment, and some aliens made from lime green balloons, and I find myself remembering my last year at Hogwarts, and how I taught Hermione to twist figures much like that. I miss Hermione! Wouldn't it be a hoot if ... but no, I'm not that lucky. He walks me down a couple more hallways, and opens a door to a large room with a set of bunk beds in it, and a third bed off to the side. There are three guys here playing loud music. They ask me what's up, and I explain part of the dream to them (from about the point of Bing Crosby to the bus trip) and they explain that they only have one more song to reherse, then they'll shut down for the night, and I can get some sleep on the non-bunk bed. Somebody also says something about the new girl with the bushy brown hair. "Is she going to Harvard by any chance?" I ask, and a voice that sounds very familiar comes from the doorway "Well, actually, yes." I can't see her from where I am at, but I jump to my feet and turn to the door to find I'm looking at Hermione!

She calls my name (though I cannot tell if it is MY name or Harry!) and launches herself at me, crushing me in one of her patented Hermy-hugs. I just wrap my arms around her and hug her just as tight. I didn't quite realize just how much I missed her until I found her back in my arms. I find myself just standing there hugging and kissing her for about five minutes, while the guys playing music get more and more uncomfortable. Then we finally part, and she starts to lead me out of the room and over to hers. (Those were her balloons.) Guess I am going to be staying in that room after all. Hope nobody minds. Wherever we are, whatever this place is, there are a bunch of people staying here, and there are lines three or four people deep waiting to get into either of the restrooms. Hermione needs the restroom, so I just lean against a wall to wait.

I find myself looking out a large picture window, a huge sheet of glass, overlooking what seems to be a bit of a swamp. I see a swamp boat sitting in the corner with almost a sort of step ladder on it, and on top of the step ladder, Jed Clampett (Beverly Hillbillies) looking much like Granny in her rocking chair on top of the packed truck. I hear this evil cackling, and look up to see a stereotypical witch that looks like she could be straight out of the Wizard of Oz on a collision course with the air boat. So I wave my hand and teleport Jed and the boat somewhere safe, and missing him, the witch crashes into the swamp. Seems I have ticked her off, and in a flaming rage, she throws a large fire ball at me, but I wave my hand again, and cause a portal directly into hell to appear, and it sucks her fire ball and herself into it, and disappears with a pop.

I find myself really hoping Hermione gets finished with the bathroom quickly, because I'd really like the help of her mind to figure out just what is going on here!

Morning of October 27, 2013. Sunday



Scenes from this dream have recurred hundreds of times over the years.

Beginning - St. Andrew and Caledonia Streets - La Crosse, Wisconsin, USA; walking into the Amtrak station from the sidewalk (for me train stations represent a desire to go into deeper areas of the dream state and/or communicate with either higher entities or orphaned tulpas). I had not been there in real life since February of 1994. There is a life-sized bronze statue of Nike near the area that is not there in reality. It is early evening. The Nike statue has about ten percent of the surface covered with verdigris (for me statues represent powerful spiritual energies which are beginning to surface - as it has the verdigris it likely means I need to focus on more meditation in real life lately to increase mental focus). Nike is the Greek goddess of victory and guardian of my connection to supraconsciousness, as V stands for victory and V is the twenty-second letter of the English alphabet (as well as the bottom half of the heart symbol - also half the Yin/Yang totality).

I go inside the Amtrak building. It is somewhat different than in reality in that it has a large public bar and an area with a pool table. A couple men of around forty years of age, in bluejeans and work shirts, are playing darts. The dartboard, instead of the bull’s-eye pattern, has the number twenty-two (dark blue on white) covering a fairly high percentage of the dartboard in surface area, yet it has never been hit before as there are no puncture marks from the points of darts on or near the area. There are far more puncture marks on the wall than the dartboard (from real-life - a north wall of my apartment in the King Street mansion was like this from the previous tenant). The men ask me if I want to join in on the next game and I do. They seem somewhat patronizing, apparently viewing me as of less intelligence, and hand me a dart. I casually throw it with my right hand and it hits the center of the dartboard, causing the entire wall to crack open (recurring), simultaneously all the way to the top and bottom, with small blue bolts of static electricity going everywhere outwards from it. Everyone starts running around, as parts of the ceiling are falling in. I am not that concerned, but walk outside as a precaution.

Hundreds of meteors, some with larger fiery “tails”, are moving across the sky and hitting the ground. The explosions are not that loud or damaging it seems, but are certainly causing chaos for the local residents. The eyes of the Nike statue “do a Jennie Haniver” (usually meaning, personally, a tulpa gaining real life via the thread of a real person it is not yet known to represent - the eyes glowing brightly and flashing briefly) as a man yells “Oh my God” and seems to be killed, falling backwards, by something she is holding, perhaps a dagger or just her touch, as her wings flap over him, creating an unusual metallic “groaning” sound, almost like the distant roar of a lion (from real-life - when I was the only one who recognized a lion’s roar at a fair distance when everyone else was trying to tell me it was the groaning of a bridge in the wind). This scene represents any Western ignorance my mind may be holding as being extinguished.

I walk to the east (going east, unless it is a specific place you are thinking of going, just as on a number line and the orientation of a compass rose, represents progress or expectation/reception of foresight/precognition as well as “rehearsing” potential future events). The living Nike statue is following me, but I am not alarmed. However, I am not quite sure if I want to face this entity. (Audio replay of “Solid Tin Coyote” from “The Roadrunner Show”, first seen on Saturday, February 17th, 1966 from 12:00 PM).

I turn my head to look back for the fourth time and see that the Nike statue is now Barbara Steele (just as her “wings” are folding behind her in a flawless static-electricity-like cascade effect) as she appeared many years ago and in the costume that always reminded me of an old-fashioned wedding outfit. (Barbara Steele represents both the totality of sensual energy from my youth as well as, in present symbolism, the real-life unfolding of marrying my tulpa or “dream girl” of unearthly beauty in real life). There are still meteors falling, but not in the immediate area other than when one hits a car, causing it to fill with fire, so that a skeletal hand is then hanging out the driver’s side (representing the elimination of any potential influence of Western or mainstream ignorance - as I am not the driver in control). Eventually, she seems to be holding something out to me, smiling lovingly.

I tentatively take it from her as she says, “In bocca al lupo…” (“Good luck”, although in this case, “good luck” literally means “in the mouth of the wolf”). I see that it is a large golden key which also looks much like a miniature branding iron (a personal symbol for identifying and then limiting or eliminating any modern Western or mainstream influences or energies).

I walk back to the Amtrak station and although it is mostly destroyed, there is one section of an outer wall with a large keyhole. Three elderly men are sitting about near the ruins, two carving something, one hammering a small object. They are wearing dingy greenish berets. (Darker green berets represent a tentative but ready mental attitude in moving forward with a goal - due to being on the head, being somewhat round, and from the traffic light symbolism.) “I’m going in,” I tell them. Only one, the nearest, glances at me without emotion and goes back to his work of whittling.

The keyhole, which is on a short cylindrical base about an inch out from the wall’s surface, matches the construct of the key I have. The recess is shaped like a large letter “S”, with the forward “C” and the reverse “C” in smaller detail within the “S” - representing the English alphabet form of the Yin/Yang gateway or threads between primarily Asian or ancient cultures and English communication at the supraconscious level. I put the key in and it actually glows like a miniature branding iron and sizzles and sparks. I start to turn it ninety degrees to the left (turning to the left represents the act of loosening or revealing something as with real-life screws, lids, and such, as well as reviewing memories or “turning time back”). Within the sizzling sounds, it clicks when it is at the implied nine (leftmost number on a clock). I turn it another ninety degrees (down to an implied six, the bottommost number on a clock) and it clicks again, the six and nine being the numerical construct of the Yin/Yang form. As the cylindrical keyhole pad recedes into the wall, it transforms into the Yin/Yang symbol by way of the hundreds of tiny metal rods adjusting to the geometric form.

I do not see a door, but the wall itself somehow develops horizontal equidistant recesses and then opens like a jalousie window with all “slats” stopping at ninety degrees. I then see another keyhole I had not noticed before. This one is of two question marks, one facing the other, the question mark being a representation of separation from the supraconsciousness and the separation from the “two”, symbolized by the vertical stem (the mundane mind pulling it down) and the point (isolation from Universal Mind) and aiding in maintaining ignorance at the physical level. I softly rotate (to the left) a torus-shaped dial just below the bow of the key and six small rods emerge from near the middle, somewhat like miniature umbrella ribs in the form of a Star of David with very small bolts of static electricity, and with a barely audible electronic hum, rising to a very subtle higher pitch (around the 9,000 Hz range) the six parts move around the tip of the key, and merge together in one shape, replacing the original implied shoulder stops. The keyhole pattern changes as the key enters, the stem of the question marks each rotate ninety degrees away from the middle with a veneer-like surface receding back and the implied isolated recess actually being a section that slides to the new “stem” each forming the number two (one of them mirrored). The mirrored twos then move more into the wall, receding enough to bring out a hidden plate that is heart-shaped. The heart-shape then glows - and the “slats” of the jalousie-window-like wall start dropping downwards fairly fast until there is an open entrance to walk through.

There is now something that looks like a small white control panel for a home alarm when I am inside, the brand name embossed as “initium” and another version of the “dartboard” from the earlier scene, but as a functioning keypad. I press my initials on the arc-shaped keys, C…C…L… and the display lights up as 250 (CCL in Roman numerals). The “2” looks like a “Z” in the display, and the “5” looks like an “S”. The 0 spins and forms a Yin/Yang icon and moves to the right (moving to the right, as on a number-line, implies progress or moving into the future). It (the “25” of 250 to “ZS”) forms ZSUZSANNA, my wife’s first name. However, it then displays “KSEAL?” which I take to mean “Sealed with a KISS” or the letter “X” (between Z and C on a normal keyboard) or “St. Andrew’s cross of X” or “Crux decussata” (note the street name above of St. Andrew), but is also the next consonant/next vowel pattern in a localized area supposedly encoded into my name by Nike, (for example the pattern being claude, dmeafi, fniego, gpoihu, hquoja, jrauke, kseali) - a source having said “This unusual abbreviation’s origin (referring to "K”) is unknown; it has also been said to stand for 250". K is the eleventh letter (11 + 11 = 22), as well as being half the symbol (but rotated ninety degrees) of the “heart on a plane” and I ponder whether to press “K” or “X” and decide to just press the center of the keypad, which seems to work as a door opens in front of me and I walk out onto the porch of a house on Avon street I had been to in the distant past. It is “still” nighttime from that point.

I see a fireball rolling along the ground, but it turns out to be a candle-lit jack-o’-lantern, which somehow sets fire to the grass after falling from the porch wall next-door and apparently causing something else on the porch to fall. “Stupid cats!” someone yells from inside - so I am thinking the meteor shower is over. I see a blur of white and am thinking it is Snowball, a cat from my childhood. It is not a cat, but a white swan that comes to me. I sense another presence. A black (Australian) swan emerges from the darkness and sits on the porch wall at the same time a young version of my wife walks up the porch steps carrying a hollow plastic jack-o’-lantern with a black handle to collect candy in (not wearing a costume but dressed as she was in an older photograph with a red top and yellow shorts). “Oh…hello…” she says timidly (as if seeing me for the first time). I take her lower right arm (whispering “Yin” in gratitude) to guide her away from the front of the porch, as the explosions start up and grow louder again.

Two obnoxious, meandering drunks walking by, of about twenty years old, yell out “Trick or Treat”, one holding up a can of Budweiser beer and the other saying (to my wife) “Where’s your Costume, Cinderella? Where’s your pumpkin coach, Cinderella?”- but both are hit by fireballs (that ironically turn out to be flaming pumpkins), setting them on fire, causing them to fall and die, screaming and pounding the ground and writhing.

A car is hit by a fireball and crashes into the corner of the house (from a real-life event when a car crashed into our house, into the porch steps and I thought I had lost my wife but it missed her by possibly a minute as she was walking home from the store - across the street when it happened). We move into the doorway as static electricity starts shooting from our skin. My wife’s hair is standing on end. She starts giggling, trying to pat it down, turning in circles and engaging in some sort of funny little dance. I soon actually see our “pumpkin coach” near the opposite side of the porch from where the car crashed and is still burning, but it is a Romani caravan.

Barbara Steele is watching the house, halfway between the sidewalk and the porch with her arm extended to indicate we should get into the pumpkin-shaped Romani caravan as soon as possible.

“Are they all to die?” I say with an unexpected sorrow watching the trails of “jack-o’-lantern meteors” blazing across the sky, crashing everywhere, leaving piles of pumpkin pulp all over the streets and houses (from a real-life event in November of 1993, when I was the maintenance person for a childcare center for WWTC and a very large pumpkin in a Thanksgiving setup had exploded just a few minutes prior to my walking in - the horrid-smelling pulp went all over the main area for a fair distance, even breaking a couple fluorescent lights, and taking a long time to clean up).

Barbara Steele’s visage is now of a teal-colored skull (but seemingly darker in the shadowy porch environment), lighting up slightly from the inside, and she is pointing to me with her left teal-colored skeletal finger but starting to revert to the Nike statue, now nearing the porch steps and holding a blue flaming sword with her right hand, saying something (with a voice of at least six or seven layers of different pitches, like a chorus) much like…“Essi sono sul filo sfilacciato della vita. Tu sei il punto dell'universo, della sua fonte di vibrazione”. (“They are on the frayed thread of life. You are the point of the universe, its source of vibration”.) (This scene and theme is modeled somewhat after “Tonight the Sky Will Fall” by Daniel F. Galouye from Imagination magazine 1952 where one man/being is all that exists and all else is a dream.)

We get into the caravan, my wife being very passive and going in first. There are two horses which neigh nervously at the streaks of fire in the sky. There are streaks of light and vibrations and it is airborne into outer space (the outside view going by so fast that it is like cards being flipped - similar to the view from a jet window when taking off in real life), leaving the Earth forever, as we gaze at the Eagle nebula (“Pillars of Creation” area) just outside the small round window…as I wake I try to hold and focus on the pure bliss.