memorable

Morning of December 19, 2013. Thursday.



This was an intriguing dream, though not really much drama, based on indirect associations from pulsing certain affirmations relating to creation of something new which brought about the “steel foundry” theme, I think. I do not really associate human-like beings with black eyes (including the sclerotic coat) as having “evil” in them as many people do (thanks to their influence from “Supernatural”, probably). Some people have been seemingly suspicious of me in my past due to having near-black eyes (except of course for the sclerotic coat) which I have actually gotten complaints on. Can you imagine? I associate completely black eyes, for the most part, with an undeveloped or unknown element. Tulpas will develop black eyes after a time (depending on other factors) sometimes going back to “normal”, the reverse being a “quivering bright silver”, which seems to be the highest form.

Here, the “black-eyed aliens” seem to represent the new “recently born” (and deliberate on my part) tulpa constructs coming in to deliberately oust some of the annoying archetypes of the past, particularly those with very limited intelligence that persist in frequenting certain domains (but not all by any stretch of the imagination). On the Internet, you will find references to “Black-Eyed Children Encounters” as in one claim that they are alien-human hybrids, something I find hilarious, as humans cannot even reproduce with other species on their own planet, let alone from another planet, even other primate groups, such as chimpanzees, where the DNA is oh so close. I simply do not have that level of imagination, as you cannot “unlearn” something you already know (which is why I do not dream about zombies, I guess). They never seem a threat to me - in fact, here in most of this dream, they actually seem a bit fearful of normal humans and most of them are in hiding (although they communicate tentatively with me, seeming to want instructions at times).

In humans, the pupils dilate to let in more light. In tulpas, as I said in another entry, this potential is unlimited, and thus completely black eyes are a result. They dilate “to see as much of the world as possible”.

I am visiting my sister at her old address on Loomis Street in the USA. She seems concerned about a new steel foundry being built so close to her house that one outer wall of her house seems to be in the works of either being shared by one of the buildings or possibly damaged. The foundry and many associated larger buildings are mostly being worked on to the north. This is likely my dream “complaining” about new potential constructs of stronger levels being “enforced” against old thinking habits, perhaps. Many very strange vehicles travel by her house and there is a concern about strong odors, noise, and heat that already seems somewhat of a serious problem regarding peace-of-mind livability.

Meanwhile, there is another scene prior to this I should include. I am walking in a very large, mostly featureless green field (although I can see large dense forests in the distance, which seems to be our destination) with a young black-eyed girl. She seems to be wearing a gymnastics outfit with a Yin and Yang design theme and a high, swept-back wiry tiara. We are sharing some sort of private joke relating to the overall events going on. Apparently, all of humanity (although I sense my family is not there and has equal freedom as I do) is being held back by a large silvery steel fence from horizon to horizon. Some of them are putting their arms between the bars in an attempt to get our attention. Most of those closest to the gate itself seem to be from environments that had not nurtured them in their lifetime - and so they seem hostile to anyone visibly appearing healthy or successful in any way. I hear one of them scream “You son of a b—h!” but it is not clear at all if they are yelling at me or someone near them that is annoying them (it seems more likely to be a fight amongst themselves, though, rather than any attention given to me). Looking back, the number of people stopped by the fence seems almost endless, all the way to the distant horizon behind us - or almost every human being on Earth. “Human DNA is so volatile,” says the girl.

The black-eyed girl waves her hand and another steel fence materializes fairly quickly from the ground, again from horizon to horizon relative to each side of us, although it does not seem needed, so is a bit of “overkill” (almost to a comedic effect). The “joke” we are sharing relates to the complaint of a lottery winner which I think originated from a “Nancy” comic strip many years ago - although I have heard it elsewhere. The gag is that, even though the person won the lottery, he is angry that he wasted money on buying two tickets when he supposedly did not need the second. (Seriously, though, it is not that funny, as the win could have been a result of the second ticket rather than the first). This may relate to a very recent real-life event. My second-youngest son won a prize at a Christmas party, so he got to blindly select the next winner from a bucket held high. Of all the people, he picked (by pure blind chance) his younger brother as the next prize winner. This was a fun and positive social night for them.

Anyhow, after this, the dream mostly shifts into the city scene (which has an additional appearance later on after other sections). After this, is a “twilight” dream section. I and several other people are watching strange, long and cylindrical objects in the sky. These long, thin cylinders are mostly a lighter blue but with a wider black band in the center, somewhat like a cigarette with a filter in the middle rather than on the tip (or perhaps like a cigarette mirrored symmetrically to its filter tip). We watch for quite some time, with a sort of enthusiasm. However, one of these ships seems to crash in slow motion through one of the steel foundry buildings (curiously seeming to stay at a forty-five degree angle the whole time) and we have to avoid the flying parts from both the spacecraft and the building, which does not seem difficult. However, at the same time, it also seems to transform into a machine that is reworking the design of the building at the same time the inertia from the crash is still active. Later on, I am approached by one of the aliens in a very passive way, but I just tell them to relax and enjoy their lives. They do not seem to have any ulterior motives and are living in the city without incident or being bothered by the humans even after the crash of one of their ships.

The dream shifts again in that I am looking at various time periods in my past, yet everything has changed. I enter my Rose Street apartment as a boy, and find a Japanese family living there instead and so I feel a bit strange/imposing at my intrusion. History has somehow changed - or maybe I am actually in the future rather than the past (although the Rose Street building burnt down years ago - and there now seems to be a business building there in the same area in real life). I check out another home I had in my youth and there are now different (seemingly Tibetan) people having had a history of living there all that time, a married couple and five children (the same as my immediate family in real life). It is not a negative experience, just a bit “different” - and I actually enjoy talking to these (unknown) people. All in all, the dream seemed to created a positive feeling, regardless of the rather meandering plot.

Update: On some levels, this dream turned out to be highly precognitive of my sister’s illness and death.

In the past, I have had a fair number of dreams of finding coins, mostly along the side of the highway in Cubitis, public sidewalks in La Crosse, and often grassy areas on boulevards and such. Interestingly, many of these dreams were semi-lucid yet I still went around gathering up as many coins as I could find, even pennies, but often mostly quarters. Sometimes, I had to dig slightly in the dirt or gravel to seemingly find more and more, and sometimes this was close to or right on a smaller flight of concrete steps near a public building such as a school or courthouse. Whereas many of these dreams featured American money; quarters (25 cents), nickels (5 cents), dimes (10 cents), and pennies (1 cent), there were often unusual (fictional) coins as well as more correct forms of foreign currency. In an unusual variation of this recurring theme, I also once was finding various record albums along the road, mostly from the 1960s and 1970s, such as one by Sonny and Cher.

Although it is likely that most other people have had such dreams, I think there was an influence regarding my parents having collected soda bottles (or “pop bottles”) in burlap bags along the side of the road when they were first married and made a reasonable amount of money doing such at the time. This likely influenced me into thinking about “just picking money up off the street and near roads”. While in my dream, I actually seem to think it is possible to survive this way (by just finding money that people dropped). I usually find about twenty to sixty dollars in coins in such dreams and end up having them in all my pockets as well as boots if I am wearing any. Obviously, in real life, you do not tend to see coins lying all over the place everywhere, but dreams are dreams and probably are augmented replays of all those times when I did find a coin or two here and there (including in grocery stores or even near bus stops).

In one dream, I am with others and we are finding coins along the middle area of a railroad track. Curiously, over time, we are suddenly climbing a ladder and are eventually high in the air on a skyscraper, implying that there is possibly a public train service that goes straight up. (In some areas, on the ground, there are piles and piles of various types of gold and silver coins from various countries.) This is not the only time I have associated railroad tracks with a ladder. Even when I was a toddler, I sometimes “saw” a ladder lying on the ground as potential train tracks, as the overall appearance is very similar.

I have not had many of these dreams over the last ten years or so. I have had a few dreams in the Australian transition. This mostly included the Australian fifty-cent coin, which is dodecagonal (12-sided).

At least a few of these were precognitive. In one, I find pennies deeper in the dirt at a neighbor’s house (these were people I had never met and who lived across the street from my sister’s house on Loomis Street). That same early afternoon, my brother-in-law told me that the same neighbor was digging up a lot of old pennies in his yard.

Afternoon of December 4, 2013. Wednesday.



Although I have already done fairly short summaries regarding some of the dream content found here, I am putting it together under a new concept - “how to be an idiot in lucid dreams”, which seems to fit well with some of the material.

Perhaps the most ridiculous example of sheer futility was when I set up a Casio digital sampling keyboard - with the electrical cord holding the key down (by being pulled under the adjoining keys) and listening through my sleeping period in 1989 to an affirmation regarding “I am aware now, within my dream”. The samples could not be very long, and the same one (sole sample) was assigned across the keyboard of various “artificial pitches” with no formant option (the pitch solely being altered by the length of the sample/sound-wave, a much simpler but entirely useless way to get different pitches - people with authentic perception can easily tell that they are slowed down or sped-up sounds, primarily because the formant is as well - unlike the advanced grain stretching and frequency band with formant manipulation which I find very easy to do these days - I am still agonizing when I hear older recordings that used this older method as well as the ever-irritating and horribly “anyone-can-do-it mentality” stutter and “play any song with any sound” nonsense).

As stated before in an older summary, this did indeed “open” a lucid dream. Throughout my life, it has been a “habit” to have at least one lucid dream every day ever since I can remember (even as a baby) - which is usually the first one upon entering sleep via a hypnagogic portal. However, I have experimented with everything and anything. In this case, I had a dream where…as said before…I spent the entire lucid dream trying to find the source of the sound to stop it! How idiotic is that? Indeed, that is like listening to a hypnotist and then telling him to shut up half-way through because you are trying to be hypnotized.

In this particular dream I was trying to open doors in a long hallway, trying to determine where the sound was coming from, some of the doors being locked. I did not even make the obvious connection that the sound source was outside of my dream environment and in the real world at the time. When I woke, I felt ridiculous in being “tricked” that way.

In the “Knife Nose” dream from early 1970 (which I did not give full references to before, even in title), I was entering my lucid dream awareness. I was in the backyard in Cubitis and it seemed to be late morning. I was facing the south and sitting in an unfinished area of the larger rabbit shed near the concrete block columns. From the carport, a dog was approaching as soon as I started to get an idea on how to dream what I wanted. I got very annoyed, as dogs appearing in my dreams was always bad news in that they would soon attack or try to chase me (which is rather odd, as I do not recall any traumatic events with dogs prior to that stage of my life). I shouted out “You dogs are always ruining my dreams!” From there, the “back spasm” unfolded as the dog immediately growled and ran to me and pressed his nose into the small of my back, causing great pain and an “electrical sensation”. I have had this all my life (actually fairly common now, but not associated with dreaming - it usually occurs before hypnagogic visions kick in more fully). It seems to be some sort of strange threshold between conscious thought and expectation that triggers some sort of muscle spasm in the lower back (but now sometimes also occurs in other areas near the ribs). It is also some sort of strange combination of extreme pleasure and extreme pain. I used to think it was associated with so-called Kundilini energy.

A very similar dream resulted from yelling at a buzzard being in my lucid dream (and being tired of non-lucid dreams where buzzards sometimes posed a threat). A similar response resulted, the buzzard flew down into the carport (as I ran into it) and just as I was sitting down (as in, not making it to the front door of the actual house in time I decided to try to sit down to protect my back), it landed on my back and stabbed me with its beak, causing the exact same “back spasm” event. This seems to be some sort of both causal and premonition-like event in medical science related to “seizure premonitions” related to epilepsy, although I do not have any diagnosed medical condition of this nature. It is very perplexing, though. Which comes first? If I had not responded that way to the “characters” in my dream, would the “back spasm” still have occurred? Again, I am left with a bit of doubt over the threshold or line between premonition and manifestation. What instigates what?

A fairly common event throughout my life (perhaps because I do a lot more walking than many people) regarding the entering of hypnagogic portals each night is that, regarding certain environments that form, I am sometimes rudely kicked out of it. A fairly common event is entering the portal and walking along the streets of a city and developing full lucidity. Sometimes I have a companion, sometimes I am on my own. As I walk I become more and more integrated into my dream. However, there is sometimes the sudden tripping and falling into “nothing” and waking suddenly. There seem to be variations on this. I am already fully in the lucid dream, yet this happens. (Supposedly it only happens to some people AS they are falling asleep, not after - some say the cause is exhaustion, but this is not the case with my experiences, one name for it seems to be “hypnic jerk” although there is something called myoclonus in more extreme cases(?) - it is hard to say with all the weirdness in completely different beliefs about such things, even medically - public credibility failure as usual.)

Finally, getting to the real idiocy. What could be more idiotic and futile (and yes, this has happened to me a few times) then manifesting a lucid dream, and then trying to shut it down over concern of what various characters might think? In a few cases, I have gone around the dream environment, deliberately, yes…deliberately - trying to remove portals and “seeds” (including tulpa templates at the lucid dream level). I mean really, does a movie producer experiencing his greatest potential then decide to say - whoops, I had better change it to conform to what other characters would expect…idiocy at its finest, I would say. I am still not sure why this happens - perhaps some sort of transient state or “phasing” with the minds of other people. I have had a few dreams like this over the years. Sometimes, in my dream, I try to find any book with a reference or particular phrasing to open a portal (sometimes even a supposed talisman) and deliberately destroy it or put it somewhere else (as it is often located with someone else’s belongings somehow). In a recent example, I went through the dream environment to make sure that there were no portals or potential for such, or any evidence on dream manipulation or tulpa manifestation…I did it a few times in the same environment. This is utter idiocy at its most ridiculous extreme. It is like building a great house and then closing off half the rooms because you do not want people to know your house is bigger. Whatever. I am sure will find a “cure” one day. It is like when I “pulsed” the word “girls” many years back - and other phrases for nearly an entire day, and what did I get in-dream? A night-long adventure featuring…squirrels.

Although it certainly is not always the case, I have also held that “I had better be wary of what my real (sleeping) body is doing in real life right now”. Where is the logic of this? I am fully aware I am dreaming and the dream is as vivid as real life - and by all logic, my real physical body would be motionless in bed. Yet I have this concern in the back of my mind that my real physical body could be wandering around in the middle of the street in reality (undressed, yet), perhaps being endangered or some such or perhaps the pillow covering my mouth or perhaps there are visitors in real life and they will see me undressed or whatever. It almost seems logical in a way. There are technically “two different mes” and it seems to be by instinct that concern should be sharply focused for “both”. I have also already stated how “the shadow” seems to be the conscious self in a lucid dream (and perhaps many other types of dreams). I have tested this, and it seems to be true. I have actually caused my physical body to move by getting my shadow to do something while I - as the dreamer - remained still (a different sort of “shadow play”). This is not the rule for lucid dreams in general; in lucid dreams that otherwise had a lot of physical activity AS the dreamer, I was told that I did not move at all during my sleep - during the time period involved (which was sometimes in the daytime or during naps).

The “great adventure” continues…

Morning of December 2, 2013. Monday.



In my dream, there are two scenarios, the first one involving the refurbishing of an old wooden house in a rural area. It is high up on stumps (high enough to freely walk around under) and I look closely at the underside of the floor, noting the way the floorboards appear. This unknown house, as with our house in real life, has very thin floorboards with gaps between them. I start to wonder about how it is possible to actually walk in the house, let alone have any sort of furniture anywhere in it. I notice areas where there are smaller clusters of thicker, harder pieces of wood stuck or nailed into the bottom, somewhat equidistant in a grid pattern across the underside of the house, apparently for a bit of extra support, with additional areas of some sort of resin sloping away from the sections. The main idea here is that there are two men who disagree about what to do with the house and I am supposedly there to help, but I am not sure what to do about their predicament. It seems they have equal say in its fate. One wants to fix it up a lot better by redoing parts of it, the other does not want to bother and just wants to add a bit of patchwork, which would possibly result in a house that no one will be able to live in. Meanwhile, an unknown rural sheriff or game warden sits on a porch telling me about all the misadventures of the two men. He seems very cheerful, loud, and excited in his speech, repeating the highlights of their more recent misadventures and continuing redundant-in-theme encounters, laughing as if sharing a great comedic yet predictable legend.

Later, I am with a few unknown people and we discover two young animals that are about the size of a large cat. I hold them the most as a few other people come and go. The first one; I tell someone that it is a baby bear. However, I then notice that it has long ears and see that it is actually an arctic hare. I correct my error and talk about what it actually is as I stroke the soft long ears. The other animal turns out to be a young arctic fox. It is beautiful and calm. I pet it and stroke the bushy, soft tail. The two animals need a bit of care for now and we keep them close by. There is almost a mystical feeling as I enjoy the natural surroundings within my dream even though it is now a snowy landscape (unlike the first dream segment). The vividly rendered detail of the setting is quite precise and emotionally soothing. The hare is almost completely pure white except for a bit of darker gray around the top of the ears and the fox is the same way, but with a bit of lighter gray on the tip of its tail. They act in a very calm and passive manner instead of trying to run away.

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Morning of November 11, 2013. Monday.



This fairly long dream is of a nature I experience very frequently. I enter a fully lucid state and decide I will visit a relative in the USA, in this case the only living sister on my mother’s side (Marilyn). I will do this with a continuous combination of teleporting and flying (from my present home in Queensland, Australia). I fly over the ocean enjoying the feelings of the wind on my face and the sound of the waves. It is very clear and beautiful. Later on, after what seems about fifteen minutes or more, I notice an area with Spanish moss and cypress trees, making it seem as if I am now over a river, possibly in Florida.

Eventually, continuing to fly over water, and in several cases teleporting a fair distance ahead, I see a building which I recognize to be in La Crosse, Wisconsin after having an awareness of having moved over the Black River for a considerable distance. I land near the building and then continue, walking, in a northeasterly direction. Much of the area is very different but I am still somewhat familiar with where I should go. (The Rose Street area where I used to live and walk a few blocks to school, although the school is still there, has been built up and industrialized considerably, almost beyond recognition.)

In one area, there is a group of young violent males with knives, near what is like a larger culvert and an area that reflects a lower level of urban decay. I tell them that I am not actually there (physically) but in my dream form, so they can just go on with whatever they are doing. Only one of them seems somewhat threatening. I reach into my right pants pocket to find a large, already-open switchblade and throw it with the blade end as it goes perfectly into the other person’s sternum and he is fallen/easily defeated. I walk on, continuing northeast and notice that a new switchblade has materialized in the same pocket in the same way as if there is an endless supply.

I eventually end up at my sister’s house. She is much older and there is a mention by her of how she smelled Guinea pigs and cigarette smoke upon my arrival. This makes no sense, as she was a heavy smoker in the family (not quite as much as her husband, though) but has apparently quit as of several years ago. She seems slightly tired and ill (as she often was in real life over the years - she is still alive as of this writing). (In real life, we do have two Guinea pigs though they are mostly only handled by the children.)

I mention how my next-youngest son Lorenzo is a regular character on a (fictional) television western series on Monday nights, wanting to know if she had seen it. In fact, for some unknown reason, some scenes are then suddenly being shot at the location I am in presently, though I wonder how they will integrate the scenes filmed inside the house into the actual show to reflect the show’s intended background environment - perhaps the commonly used green-screen compositing or chroma key compositing. I am happy that Lorenzo is there for my sister to finally see him in “real life” (although it is a dream).

A little later, we (my wife and a couple others) seem to have a setup there. There is one point where my brother J’s cheerful spirit walks in through the front porch out of a radiant white light and to an additional room to the south where we engage in conversation for quite some time (although I do not remember much of it). For a short time after he leaves, I think about going onto the porch to look more closely (through the implied portal) at what is beyond but decide not to. The house is not anything like the one I last saw my sister living at (I am not at all familiar with the one she lives in now in real life). In the background is still a feeling of awe and contemplation based on the discovery of how a childhood dream seemed to involve actual time travel over many years - the “Patches” one, where I actually saw (without the slightest clue it could ever be as such, especially as two areas of the wall had to be sealed up and the middle window replaced by the smaller twelve-paned one) that area of the house as it would be in the distant future in a real-life event. It feels very familiar and deeply personal to me now (I actually thought I would not experience anymore newer childhood-based paranormal connections or new unfolding of such) as if it has something to do with having access to eternity when in certain dream states, made more such by the three bats being a symbol of messages from the future (or “eternity”) as well. This has taught me that many childhood dreams I have not fully resolved (precognitive-wise, as all dreams seem to have very literal and precise precognitive features at one point or another) could still have repercussions on the now and the (even distant from here) future. I think this is related to what brother Jim was saying to me. He seems to be in the same form of when I knew him as a boy, but less overweight.

In the last section of my dream, we seem to have a setup for a cheap, quick, and “lowest common denominator” form of public entertainment (with only one slightly askew TV camera on the porch thus far) involving one of those so-called talent or idol shows which I have never watched any of fully. In this case, it is also a type of a hidden camera show involving a practical joke (although by the implied studio rather than a friend), where a person with no acting, writing, or other ability is filmed in a way similar to “The Truman Show”. The young man is possibly from the group of the people with knives and is told he will be famous and in several movie rolls (as a gag, to be part of some silly shots only rather than a real movie). It seems slightly cruel.

I later notice that there is a collection (belonging to me and my wife) of nine black horses (in somewhat of a three by three arrangement), each either from an old carousel or a rare antique rocking horse, most oriented towards the south, but at different angles and within a group of other smaller items and smaller furniture. This may relate to traveling back into some of the mysteries of childhood that I have not focused on in quite some time.

Morning of November 3, 2013. Sunday.



This was another funny connection and recurring dream-oriented pattern. It also relates to my most recent dream. What I saw was a large staff with a golden snowflake design on the top. Inside the snowflake area (the center) was the Blue Pearl floating within an implied globe setup (but the mechanism not visible), but this time I saw it to be planet Earth, shining and glowing, and blue rays emerging at times. It felt very meaningful and timeless and really “shined”. I saw it turn slightly and felt as if it was very deep within my consciousness. A feeling of bliss.

“Suzy Snowflake” was a song I came to really enjoy when young as well. I took another song “Susie Q” (also spelled as “Suzi Q” - my wife usually uses the Suzi spelling for the anglicized form of her first name now), as turning out to be two things, Q for Queensland, and, on a more humorous and lesser note, the omnipotent being from the “Star Trek” series.

The image is another scan of an old handmade pamphlet (made many years ago) which became a sort of personal running gag for my wife and me. One of the first things I had heard about her from a relative the first time we were communicating via postal mail was that she was “fragile”…The play on “I am avalanche” was another thing that caused people to believe the Yin-Yang pairing would bring destruction, but I think it is a reference to enlightenment, or the existence of Universal Mind. I think the comic strip clip is from B.C., the one with the cavemen. The snowflake is usually connected to the six-pointed Star of David (known in Hebrew as the Shield of David or Magen David), though, although it seems eight-pointed in the first panel of the strip.

Morning of November 2, 2013. Saturday.



This is my long flying dream, which becomes vivider in La Crosse at sister Marilyn’s house, having flown around after leaving the King Street boarding house. I had been homeless, living on Goose Island, having lived in treetops and now and then a rooftop. I had not done much walking but my shoes are worn out though I end up refreshing myself at one point as well as getting new shoes from my wife (wife-to-be in my dream).

This younger version of my wife had been going to the first year of a university course (University of Wisconsin in La Crosse). We embrace and kiss a few times, but she is apparently not ready to enter into marriage. We fly together under my power. I tell her that I can teach her to fly on her own with her own cloak and explain how my cloak works. My cloak is used for steering while flying. I explain how a certain part should gather and be tied about a foot or more up from the feet to prevent it from billowing out more. It seems to look and work similar to the wings of a flying fox. At one point, I demonstrate how to sleep while hanging upside-down like a bat. In the majority of my recent flying dreams, I have flown in a black cloak or in some cases a blue bed sheet that moves around me in various ribbon-like ways (similar to the Cloak comic book character from Marvel), more to protect my skin from twigs and such rather than a modesty issue.

Several events transpire. At one point, another person does not understand how I am able to fly and I explain that everyone has this ability. I try to teach them in steps, starting by saying that you just need to let yourself rise and hover while ignoring the force of gravity (as if one could), thus allowing yourself to float upwards. They try but fail. In the first part of my dream, I mostly fly about in either a standing or forty-five degree position. Horizontal flying (as with Superman) does not seem to feel right.

At one point, someone has a set of weapons and another joins him near the corner of a house (Gillette street; perhaps a play on getting cut or a “close shave”). (The weapon looks like the throwing star from “Krull” from 1983, a movie I saw in-dream prior to seeing it in reality without having known a thing about it and unexpectedly having someone else take me to see it on the same evening). Each star has either six or eight arms instead of the five, though. The two other people first seem to be playing around, yet do not like my flying. I get very angry, as the weapons are deadly, yet they play around with them like toys. Still, I dodge each one thrown at me but get more and more annoyed. As a result, I develop the concept that in order for a person to be allowed to use a weapon, he should be injured with it at least a few times before being allowed to use it. Taking this faux rule or law into consideration (without realizing my act is hypocritical as I had not been injured by them), I catch, over a short time as I am flying at about thirty degrees, three of the throwing stars (about three-fourths the size of a lawn-mower blade) and swing them back to the closest male while I am in mid-flight while doing a fancy maneuver. Two slice through each side of his body to the opposite side, one about a foot lower than the other, another going right through his abdomen (above the other two) expanding the cut to each side. I “explain” the upholding of the “rule”, which does not matter anyway, as the person falls apart into four pieces. I casually explain (to someone who appears and mourns the sudden loss of their husband) why that was the right thing to do. The other male stands there in a daze.

I eventually find myself flying around Southern Rhodesia in an isolated (or earlier in time?) area of Salisbury. (Possibly, it is an association with Salisbury steak which I ate in my youth in TV dinners; quite possibly the least palatable meal I have ever eaten.) I go to an even more isolated area after a few people seem either annoyed or frightened by my flying above them. I go into a herb shop (that is more like a rickety “house”) and an African male wants to learn how to fly with me. However, he then decides he will give me a lot of money if I bring back a small amount of Entada rheedii (African Dream Herb, of which I have never seen in real life to my knowledge) to sell for retail at his small shop. I go off on an adventure flying fairly low, deep in jungles, gliding over tall grasses and between trees. I am soon annoyed by large mosquitoes now and then and first worry about getting chikungunya. I clearly hear the loud, annoying buzzing in only my right ear at times. (This was specifically precognitive as I had not seen or heard anything on this for a long time. I thought it was a reference to a much older time period within my dream). I finish my task and move on, as I silently worked out in my mind that there was some sort of invisible barrier so the mosquitoes could not actually bite me. At this point, there are Blue Pearl events where the sphere seems to be almost external and moving at about my speed at a close distance. It seems to communicate with me and move ahead out of my range of vision.

I am, for some reason later on, near the main inlet of Rio de Janeiro. I also fly close to some hotels near Ipanema though a few people become angry at my act and wave their fists. There is talk of a new law to restrict my flying space. I adjust my dark cloak to steer through more populated areas and those areas with more potentially hazardous architecture. Although many people seem annoyed, some seem friendly and cheerfully wave. A short and fat mostly bald businessman in a dark suit waves at me and motions for me to land. A very gentle bossa nova (with a lot of higher string riffs) plays on the breeze (from several cheap outdoor radios at once, including from hotel balconies) with a gentle female chorus with amazing harmonies, which is like “The Girl From Ipanema”, but is like a parody of the song I saw many years ago. The gentle “Garota de Ipanema” song carries on the breeze (with different lyrics):

“Short and fat and bald and ug-a-ly,
the guy from Ipanema needs to fly with me,
to get back to his hotel across the bay…”

I am able to lift the heavy man and he smells of cheap cigar. He “flies” closely to my left, hanging on tightly, which annoys me, but I do not say anything. Still, it is very refreshing to look down over the water and boats from high above. Now and then, over the seemingly long journey (I guess I am flying more slowly at this point - it almost seems we are not moving at times - but this is likely how it would appear in real life from a small plane going at a reasonable speed) I have vague thoughts a couple times of dropping him into the water far below (by which he probably would not survive). There is also a slight concern that I will not get him across and I will instead end up dropping him midway anyway. Still, I feel I need to do this task so as to have “larger, friendlier energies more on my side”(?) After the long flight, I finally see the opportunity to land softly and he is grateful that he had not been late for the convention. I have apparently made a “new friend”.

LINK:

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2013-10-2...-virus/5051210

Way back when I was about nine years old and before I learned easier ways to learn things in a so-called paranormal sense, I did try to understand whatever I read at a few levels. Regarding such things, there are always at least three or four layered elements which can be directly validated (thus eliminating chance for coincidence or “unintended” synchronicity) much like checking the product to a multiplication problem with division. Technically, even only one layer of my experiences and work would have been enough, but this, as I have said in the past, is an entire strata of fixed aspects, how the web is woven. And so, not only are there several visible links to everything that exists in a person’s life (for them to “unravel” it as they see fit), there are also several more sparse, more hidden links (perhaps even infinite), so much so, you could have probably called me “Face-Palm Boy” when it took me so long to “get” certain things, or perhaps more like “Slap-Forehead Boy” when I learned something I should have known already.

At least one ancestor of the non-native lines was of the Vaudois - also known as the Waldensians. This group used various codes and watermarks which developed into some forms of modern cryptography and even formation of the modern English language. Over the years, time and time again, I was completely baffled by the “veil” over people’s eyes that prevented them from understanding something as simple as the alphabet or letter frequency, and why people did not use the system to more often win games like Hangman and to solve cryptograms - people were actually getting angry with me when I almost always won Hangman, saying I was “cheating” (simply by understanding the English language alphabet and the patterns of letter usage), for some inexplicable reason, preferring to wallow in negativity than enhance their understanding of practically anything at all.

The earliest Vaudois code was in one of the earliest editions of the Bible (1535 - known as the Olivetan), which had a secret decryption: “Les Vaudois, peuple evangelique, ont mis ce thresor en publique”. Down through history, even the name “JESUS” was partially of a next consonant/next vowel code (jesus, kitat, LOVEV at row TWO, the additional V in part representing Vaudois (22 citations sur Vaudois), and the bottom half of the “heart gate” or “love gate” or whatever you want to call it) and do not forget “V” is the 22nd letter creating yet an additional “fold” over an already fixed pattern (two mirrored to two being the heart on the plane and yet again, from which V emerges from THAT pattern - it goes on and on continuously). Of course, twos mirrored bottom to bottom also make the start of the Fleur-de-lys (or a swan mirrored to its bottom and rotated).

Eventually, for a time, my dreams focused on the puzzle of the “K SEAL”, mostly because of it being in my first name (as previously shown, in the SIXTH row): claude, dmeafi, fniego, gpoihu, hquoja, jrquke, kseali. I wondered if it was about Claudius, which my father said was the one who “started” it all. After all, why would the Vaudois write about me long before I was born…that was until I learned that all patterns are fixed and repetitive and there is not much people can do to distract you from truth-seeking if you really want bliss and love in your life (and basically whatever you want) for as long as you live.

My dreams focused on a very large number of K Seal “explanations” (or “K Seal I” - I being the ninth letter and validating the pattern as genuine in this case). I will go over only a few of them here.

The most obvious one has a few layers. My first and middle name finally resolves to GPO I HUG PO VIRGO (the “K Seal” being central to slight alteration of the two last vowels from “vurgu”). Thus, my bride is met via the Post Office (GPO stands for General Post Office as well, which was the first term I saw when going out when my family moved to Florida). Virgo is the sixth sign to my ninth (Yin and Yang). (This is not astrology, but logistics in related patterns - I do not believe in astrology itself - it is apparently a distraction to hide truth from those who wish to attain the “real answers” through real consciousness rather than following a false “system”.) There is a cluster after that (The K Seal row) which resolves to “The key is VI”, VI being Roman numerals for six (and you probably already know about the “nine in six”, the IX of six being Roman for nine, with the S being another Yin/Yang form). My initials in Roman Numerals resolve to 250, and interestingly enough K is also said to represent 250. These patterns always perfectly “fold in on themselves” several times over, unlike single coincidental patterns that only have one layer.

And so, the song “Sealed With a Kiss” by Brian Hyland entered my dreams (Most of the music I hear rarely has an influence in this way). Coincidentally, he also did “Gypsy Woman” - but I no longer care much for the term “gypsy” from learning that many real Roma do not like this term, although my wife is neutral about it. Regarding “sealed with a kiss”, this is what you say when you write a letter to one you love, but also can be written as an “X”, which represents St. Andrew’s cross. Thus, I figured that the “K Seal”, other than standing for kiss, was meant to be a reference to the St. Andrew’s cross (Crux decussata), for a time (in a spiritual sense).

Over time, I found all kinds of funny patterns relating to the “K Seal”. The letter “K” itself when placed with “3” makes the rotated “heart on the plane” symbol and “K” itself being half the master number (being the eleventh letter). Not only that, it also forms the suggestion of a shape of an envelope when rotated ninety degrees to the left (and you seal an envelope). Sure enough, I saw that the “Do K3” was designed by one Claude (Claudius) Dornier - thus he found his own higher path in life - literally, I guess. I never found a single thing that did not fit, even from several layers outward - something to this day I still appreciate.

The real K seal turns out to not be letter “k” at all, but to be a combination of I and C in such a way as it makes a “k” - this being from an old watermark. The seal is for “Iesous Christos”, interestingly enough. So, the “K seal” watermark is another symbol for Christ (I am not Christian).

Regardless of the hilarious fact that “K-Seal” has been “demoted” to a type of car leak repair (supposedly the best in this region) - my dreams were quite hilarious on this one, I simply heard the Beatles song “Fixing a Hole”. Thanks for reading.

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.

Night of October 18, 2013. Friday.



I am sitting and relaxing during a work break at night at a small motel I worked at with a maintenance crew in real life over twenty years ago. There is a smaller analogue television in the corner which, at first, is receiving the broadcast of a news report. A little later, there is mostly only snow and static, but soon, the song “Spanish Harlem” (Ben E. King version) starts playing over and over, audio only, with occasional additional video glitches such as horizontal wavy lines and such. However, the song had been altered and distorted (partly relative to the signal - which may be the result of a nearby storm) to where it seems certain frequency bands have been stripped and replaced almost flawlessly so that almost all of the vocals are gone and particular instruments come and go sort of like a dub reggae mix.

Every now and then, the original vocal line “IN…my GAR..den…” is heard abruptly, sometimes causing the other maintenance workers on the longer break to look up or seem confused or annoyed. At these points, there is sometimes also the brief fuzzy video transmission (only about a second or two at different times) of a shadowy female figure (in a cloak?) standing on the outside of a beginning garden, sometimes the “snow” (video term) becoming actual snow relative to the scene, but it mostly seems like a sunny region where the scene takes place. The song transforms into the Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass version, at times seeming like overly loud and overly-compressed-sounding tones coming from old squarish loudspeakers at a bullfight. I enjoy the song, though (one of my older favorites which I also played on the piano fairly often). I am not sure where the broadcast is coming from, or if it is some sort of mix-up of television and radio broadcasts as I have seen in real life in the past from either medium. There is a very slight association with the “Prince of Darkness” movie from 1987. The “broadcast” as at the end of the movie is perhaps coming from my wife thirty or forty years from now, in the future, through some sort of advanced technology sending “broadcasts” directly into my mind (again, as in the movie but in a far more viable and positive light) to give me clues about the present (as it sometimes seemed in dreams when I was very young and as a young adult).

Morning of September 13, 2013. Friday. (Wife’s birthday.)



I am much younger, perhaps twenty, living in an unfamiliar building. It may be that I share the building and have my own smaller apartment but it does seem like my own home. My main bedroom seems to be to the west of the main area (or largest rooms) of the building. To the north is a larger window, and near it, a desk upon which sits an electronic keyboard. My bed is to the left of the window. To the right of the window, against the east wall, is a large and supposedly ancient “two-storey” cage (the second tier was seemingly added much later as an extra precaution). This cage (big enough for perhaps two or three people to fit in) has two layers of “protection” around it; the thick window-screen-like wire (though a bit more sparse, about one inch by one inch) and outside of that, strong glass. Both “layers” have a sliding door on the left side of it. (I am not sure if the top tier of the hutch opens or has a door of any kind.) The layout and “memory” seems vaguely like our apartment from Gellibrand Street in Clayfield - Brisbane.

The top level of the cage is mostly empty, but does have some fresh grass. I do not notice any animals. I look closely at the bottom level, through the glass, and note movement at times. I slide the glass partly open after I think I see some sort of ancient being’s face; somewhat human, but not quite. I am not fully lucid, but it is like I am trying to bring forth an “ancient magic”. With the glass sliding door open, I can now hear wind and a slight buzzing and humming. Time passes, and I notice miniature quetzals, perhaps as many as twenty, fluttering around in spirals, no bigger than a hummingbird. I also notice phosphorescent moths. Looking more closely, I begin to sense an intense “ancient” power, windy and electrical, emanating from the cage. There are various invisible insects of some kind, likely some sort of prehistoric tiny gnat, that form different magnetic “signatures” to set certain things in motion, as a sort of creative power. The hutch seems to hold all the mystery of time and space in one small area. The grass inside that section is like very old straw and there are also stones here and there.

I listen to the wind and buzzing and feel the powerful currents of air through the wire section. Rather foolishly I open the wire and wooden sliding door, perhaps for the first time in hundreds of years. It was the only thing keeping in whatever was there for so long. I feel an intense energy and pleasure. I feel like I want to learn more (with some sort of ritual), but I do not have any sort of book and no poetry or incantation comes to mind that I think might be needed under the circumstances.

Later, there are two (unknown) girls in a room east of where I had been. I follow what appears to be some of the “creatures” from the cage, especially the beautiful miniature quetzals. The girls look at me and smile. Another girl appears for a short time. I then discover I had a third daughter I had somehow never known about who is between the ages of my second-youngest son and oldest daughter. She is now about or almost fourteen. I am glad to finally meet her. I suppose she had been ill for a long time, or made sick by ordinary humans, so is only now “coming to life” to get out and do more. I do not remember my wife having an additional baby during the supposed “missing time” in my dream, but I feel very thankful. She and my wife are going out to the park, I think, with the rest of the family, and later - shopping. She is very happy to finally meet me. I notice that there are small stones under the skin of her face, on each side of her mouth and going down her chin to her neck, forming a DNA pattern, and do not think it to be unusual. It may be some sort of acne, I reason, or she may have the stones there as a personal tribal belief. Her name, strangely enough, is Mastermind (a game my wife played often at that age), a name that I do not see as too unusual, just a bit different than “average”. She also has two middle names like all our offspring, but I do not fully recall those.

“They all got out,” I tell the two other girls, speaking of the birds and the moths. They look at me and then each other as if they are acknowledging a private joke with their facial expressions. I start to take them on a tour of the place. I point to what I first think are the magical birds flying about. I then see the butterflies/moths. However, it turns out to be the intricate attractive design of wallpaper instead. The girls giggle (either at my mistake or at the fact it magically did change before my eyes). I then look around and notice about seven miniature quetzals flying in a linear pattern. I reach out to touch them. I see that they are actually refrigerator magnets. The girls giggle again. I feel rather stupid as if I had seen a “UFO” and it turned out to be a flashlight.

This is where they become “ancient trees” and wrap around me in “creaking” spirals, buzzing, and wind, “ancient” powerful humming from the “source”. My dream “resets”.

A little later, I am back near the cage. I had been aware of an ancient (thousands of years old) “living face” attempting to make contact with me. After a time, I notice a young male of about twenty, who seems to have emerged from the cage as some sort of “wizard” within the prior twenty minutes of my dream or so. He stands across the room from me, closer to the entryway of the room to the south, looking about as if “new” to the modern world. Two other people show up (unknown or perhaps older classmates from years back).

He starts to complain about “all those years” (while in the cage) that he had to listen to me playing the accordion (including when I was a child growing up) and organ (but mostly the accordion seems to give him grief). I then see that he has some sort of “magic wand” which is like an old branch (which I remember seeing in the hutch). The accordion has always been the most beautiful-sounding musical instrument to me, and so I then assume this person must be mentally ill and thus has no powers whatsoever, especially as he seems to be enjoying some badly out-of-tune (“detuned”) modern gated synth music. He raises his magic wand to “zap” me (and even “erase” me from existence - the thanks I get for letting him out I guess) - the loud/soft gating of the detuned synth (from a radio in another room or from one being carried by one of the two new people?) seems to literally be shutting his consciousness off and on for a time so that his mind is “gone” or in no stable, focused, or fixed state - and so I really do not expect anything at all to happen. In fact, I feel sorry for him, and I just stand there gawking in disbelief as this “magician” (now wearing a hospital gown) waves his wand around. It turns out that he was a mental patient from a psychiatric ward who had escaped from a local hospital and somehow crawled into our house from an open window and was still “playing magician” as he had been doing with other patients at the ward. The two newer people lead him away as he mumbles, swaying a bit, heading back to the hospital.

I later am near the desk, thinking about putting the electronic keyboard away for a time and playing an accordion again for the first time in years, not even to record, just to enjoy in solitude (I sometimes played the accordion or an organ for hours in complete darkness many years ago - I learned later that, when I played during the day, older people sometimes came out to sit outside and listen during those times - even bringing a living room chair out to sit on). The two girls are “normal” again. I turn around and say, “I thought he came from the cage…at first”.

My hands are “warping” into joined “flexible stones” (that seem to be “speaking” softly or humming with various changing tones and dynamics in a musical sense), feathers, multicolored exposed “bones” and “spines”/“quills” (seven or eight fingers on each hand, moving out almost like accordion bellows with a suggestion of being webbed) and DNA-like swirls whereby small comet-shaped glowing “orbs” rapidly “swim” around the DNA “map”/“grid” like a complex “network” of “trains” of light (an effect I have clearly seen on my arms and hands all my life - to the point where I would gaze at my arms and hands in the dark for fifteen or more minutes at a time - often, one would suddenly become brighter and then vanish completely, exactly like a dying ember - since I have never read about anyone else experiencing this - it is just one more puzzle for me). I breathe softly.

The girl whispers, “you were in the cage (saying my name lovingly)…you are the source…” I then see that my own face is made of a mix of stone and “buzzing” wind and that there was an ancient mirror (of polished stone?) sitting in one corner of the cage - I had been (seemingly) looking at myself from outside the cage.

Ehecatl-Quetzalcoatl seems the main force or character in this dream. Ehecatl is a pre-Columbian deity associated with the wind, who features in Aztec mythology and the mythologies of other cultures from the central Mexico region of Mesoamerica. He is most usually interpreted as the aspect of the Feathered Serpent deity (Quetzalcoatl in Aztec and other Nahua cultures) as a god of wind, and is therefore also known as Ehecatl-Quetzalcoatl. Ehecatl also figures prominently as one of the creator gods and culture heroes in the mythical creation accounts documented for pre-Columbian central Mexican cultures. Mexico inches closer to loan of Moctezuma’s headdress

“Ehecatl” is very slightly like “Ethel”, my mother’s name. The two levels of the cage likely represented my conscious self (smaller, top level) over my dream self’s “mind”, while holding the power of the supraconscious (“source”).

Wind, however, has been established in my dreams (including precognitive ones) as a reference to the passage of time.

The combined failed magician/fool character in this particular dream (a character I have noted in past dreams) is commonly how I really “see” consensus at times and do not consider it a direct aspect or symbol of real mental health. Also, as I was growing up, watching magicians usually annoyed me (especially as I knew most aspects of all the tricks from various older books published in the 1800s as well as the obvious) - so I presently associate magicians with: lying, boredom, pointless actions, con men, and gossip.

Another dream relating to the quetzal being associated with the “source”: Soul’s Union of the Quetzal and the Silver Sebright Bantam. This dream was one of the most vivid dreams of my lifetime, as well as being astoundingly multilayered and literally precise in a precognitive sense.

This dream is also similar in the sense of mirror/self realization as a much older dream - Beyond the Martian Time Barrier.

Other references to aspects of stones, “buzzing”, wind, and birds have been noted in previous entries and I will update them as I get to them. These stones are like “power objects” in the supposed Nahua sense and relative to the belief of objects in the environment influencing human behavior. When these things (usually stones, in one, an owl statue) appear in dreams, they are extremely heavy, create a sort of “buzz” or “hum” and sometimes seem to manifest wind as a magnetic force of some sort, a possible additional play on magnet and magic.

Morning of September 12, 2013. Thursday.



I am living in an area that seems to be right near a larger parking lot (to the north), almost as if my family and I live in a shopping mall or at least a one-storey house of such a size. It seems fairly late at night. A few cars are in the parking lot, but only one car has people near it.

A man (Giovanni Favia?) and woman with a younger daughter (who changes, alternating in ages a few times, even being a baby at one point but as old as thirteen or fourteen at another point) are in the middle area of the parking lot. The family is Italian. Overall, this dream offers a different scenario than usual even though I have dreamt of healing light emanating from my fingers or hands before. I have several Italian and Latino cousins and in-laws but I do not feel a stronger of family connection or personal “cause” of any kind in my dream. There is no emotion other than wondering what the real (full) story is. People are always doing things and engaging in beliefs and conflicts I have absolutely no clue about; I am mostly passive in this dream for some reason.

It turns out that everyone is dividing into groups - not based directly or entirely on race or culture, but seemingly more in an ongoing situational way. Still, I seem (by situation only) related to them somehow, so I choose to go with them (although I do not actually see anyone else around or anything threatening even though the family seems somewhat frightened of something), as we all supposedly need to go somewhere. This may possibly be related to a natural disaster or some sort of fighting in one region - it is not clear. I will probably have a lot of family members I would eventually be an “enemy” of during these times, but that is not the main issue or theme.

Soon, we are riding with the family heading west, but it now seems to be daytime (the ol’ “Ed Wood” style of dreaming, continuity never a concern). It seems we almost run over a male teenager who had fallen off a bicycle just prior to us passing him, just missing one of his feet by an inch or so. Perhaps it is actually MoVimento 5 Stelle (Five Star Movement). (It was actually Beppe Grillo involved in involuntary manslaughter by car). However, even though the car is going fast, I seem to have a deep trust of being driven without incident, yet, I also somehow understand that we may have already died and am even pondering that “fact” for a short time (this has happened in a few other dreams as well - this exact same perception - I even sometimes get that awareness riding in a car in real life, especially with a taxi) - wondering about the awe of it all, even a sort of “destiny” of sorts - or playing an important role in the “mechanisms” of time or eternity by just being still.

Eventually we reach an area we are going to be living for a few weeks, I think. No one was annoyed by us becoming a part of the (survival?) group or had mentioned that my name did not sound Italian. There is only light mention of the obnoxious-sounding “V” Day (Vaffanculo Day).

Later, it seems the daughter is very sick as well as a few others and they do not do much other than sleep. My dream changes more to a focus on my own physical awareness and movement as I then have the ability to project rings of blue light from my fingers and palms. This is where my dream is the most vivid. The rings of light, although mostly two-dimensional (not like a torus) have healing energies. I also notice that they sometimes are not always rings but are sometimes comma-shaped and more greenish as they turn about (although sometimes coming close to a green/blue Yin/Yang shape), moving to the intended “target” (some sort of odd mix-up of comma and coma, as a couple of the people are supposedly in a coma). I seem to mostly cure the people. A toddler becomes so strong that she almost seems stronger than me in movement and energy after a time. There is also a point at which the daughter of the other man is somehow a “twin” or “copy” of my oldest daughter (or rather, twins or copies of each other). I sometimes add a mouth movement, somewhat like blowing into a balloon, I suppose, to give more momentum to the rings of light, without breaking them apart (as with a smoke ring). This goes on for quite some time in various scenarios of helping people.

There is a very odd part that is quite creepy (in thinking outside of my dream). It involves an older boy where a larger section of flesh is separate from the right side of his head, but not in a gory way - and it does not even seem to hurt him or be likely to cause a more serious infection or serious medical problem. It is almost like a ring of bacon and jelly, but not fully a ring anymore - but is now C-shaped because of some sort of “erosion” from not being on the head for almost a day or so. I think about how it should probably be placed back on his head before it becomes even more uneven and difficult to keep on. After this, there are some people I actually seem to heal by adding more flesh to them (such as from missing fingers or ears).

In the next dream, there is a scene I have had before, but not that common - old bird seed that had sat around in bags in a dark or damp area. In this case, a younger woman (unknown) is somewhat annoyed that she had let the store (public area?) get that way over time. She begins to clean up. For some reason, I had eaten handfuls of the seed (it also seems to be some sort of human food, used as part of a dessert, I think) and had thought the taste was actually not bad. The two bags had been there over a year, perhaps two years.

She cleans more and more of the area. My wife Zsuzsanna is there after a time, seemingly reading at first - later watching a video. I notice, after more things (including the bigger cloth bags) are cleared out, that there are deep, dark holes under the floorboards - in the ground as well as farther along within the wood or supporting beams - almost like various little caves.

I notice more and more “strange creatures” and vermin moving about, some of them bugs, but I also notice a beautiful but dangerous-looking snake. I watch the snake move about the beams under the floorboards and then slowly begin to wonder if it will come out and be a threat. About that same time, I then see it moving towards the direction of the opening in the floor that I am near, but it is no longer a snake, yet still very serpentine. It almost seems to have no legs, as I see it is now some sort of mongoose (though it really was a longer snake before, unless it was a different creature that moved out past the snake - as the anaconda-like pattern does change) with beautiful snake-scale-like design and bright colors all around, then I do see the legs that are so smooth, they are almost like wheels in the way the body moves. I warn my wife about the “snake”(?) which becomes more mammal-like near the end. It looks like it might attack her (I get the idea this sort of creature spits venom prior to a more aggressive weasel-like attack), but it seems not quite certain of its “prey”. Instead, it just sort of “grins” - looking somewhat like a Chesire Cat. I get the idea my wife might see it as a pet or at least not be alarmed by it being in the room.

Additional notes:

I am not that familiar with Italian culture, or with V-Day as a political campaign in Italy - the first being around the same time period as this dream - On 8 September 2007, he (Beppe Grillo) organized a “V-Day Celebration” in Italy; the “V” stood for vaffanculo (“f–k off”). This dream also includes a somewhat recurring aspect of the “clone” or copy of a familiar person (often a relative). As already mentioned, blue healing energies from my hands and fingers have been in my dreams fairly often. There actually is a larger parking lot across the street from where we live presently, and I have also dreamt several times of living in an actual shopping mall.

The beautiful and bizarre serpentine mongoose in this second dream may relate to my “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” persona - which I and a friend had used in the past on forums, as well as obvious sensual overtones, including those implied by the old joke “Do you like Kipling?”, answered by “I don’t know, I’ve never kippled”. However, a mongoose also attacks and kills cobras in the story, so it also possibly represents totality of (combined) diverse personas (dominant and passive?). Also, I should note my wife was likely reading “Jungle Book” in my dream, followed by later watching a movie version, as this connects with recent real-life scenes.

Morning of September 7, 2013. Saturday.



Just when I thought I have had almost every dream possible about variation in how sound presents itself, along comes something more complex and interesting in seeing, hearing, and feeling it (with the potential of even smell and taste, supposedly).

In this dream, my wife and I are living back at Clayfield, the second place we lived in real life since we were married.

There is a large, long device that is used in arranging music and it is all based on modules and nodes that fit into various fairly narrow compartments (the potential width of each adjustable section seems to relate to the note length), almost like the physical manifestation of a DAW. Recently, in real life, I had been working on a fairly new concept, even mentally in a precise way when falling asleep - of integrating sound in three-dimensional continuity in the sense of frequency bands mixing seamlessly.

In my dream, my “machine” is almost like a piano in concept and does have a type of smaller keyboard (but used only for testing the overall sound or “hit” of an individual compartment in a sequence of a measure - from left to right - a completely different concept than a spread of potential usable notes on a piano), but the main focus is on the compartments, each almost like a miniature breadbox. Each and every sonic totality of a particular instrument is a special module, about the size of a paperback novel - each with its own interesting properties. Each module fits in each adjustable area as part of a particular rendered measure (again, from left to right). It is somehow rendered to another machine (a smaller one on the other side of the room) before its final form (or master) in the form of a strong “ribbon” (which the sound is recorded on).

I feel a great interest in the different parts and how they fit. One part, about seven or eight compartments from the left, is part of a conga fill, I think, or at least one module of a conga drum, and perhaps a tom or two of different tones (which is a bit “off” as it is only the first measure of the song and would not have a fill unless that measure was a short intro, which actually may be the case in my dream, though it does seem more like a verse. Most of these pieces are somewhat rectangular and everything seems to be made of mostly wood, with some metal and perhaps other materials here and there, such as a miniature drum membrane set inside a compartment within another compartment at a forty-five degree angle and sliding doors within other sliding sections at times. I eventually notice that some of these things have aspects of other notes from other instruments somehow physically inside them, and can be set (almost like a mousetrap) to work in different ways when the machine uses the particular setup.

I see very clearly, the different parts, almost as if the snare drum and conga sounds (as well as the implied organ or synthesizer parts I have in the machine) are aspects of a “giant harmonica” within the machine. I focus on how the snare and conga modules have different types of holes in the front and relate that in the same way you would relate differences in harmonica or accordion reeds. Even though all the modules look basically the same in size, other than how they are narrower with shorter notes, I become focused and highly interested in the different, more subtle structures, and other compartments inside those.

Another strange technical aspect is how my mind somehow combined the idea of the black keys and white keys of a piano (or any other keyboard) with the idea of the size orientation and placement of the measure parts, which really does not make any sense, almost comparable to only being able to play a guitar by using one string at a time, and only being able to go downwards exactly one string at a time for each note or event. Also, regarding my dream perception itself, the width of a key on a piano has nothing to do with how long the note has to be held. I guess it is an example of how dreams combine completely different ideas into one in a very unusual way.

After time, I do start to wonder how a more complex mix (say of eight tracks, or several individual bands or ranges) can be designed. The small wooden modules of the brass notes may even be club-shaped (rather than more rectangular) and slide in at an angle above the organ sections. If the brass has two notes on the hit, it is a club within a club that is attached internally by a wire perhaps, and slides inside the machine, each internal compartment within another compartment being perhaps two-thirds the size of the previous. There is also a vague awareness of the actual coil of a real spring reverb of a real amp (but miniaturized) in one of the compartments. There may also be velvety heart-shaped modules, like a miniature box of candy (but without the candy itself) and resonating with a flute-like lilt.

I really do not complete a project; I mostly only dwell on the one measure and its potential, which still seems like a great deal of complexity to ponder. This also reminds me, in parts, of the childhood “obsession” I had with being more interested in the smaller cardboard container (and its mysterious “hidden” sections) of the chocolate Easter bunny than the chocolate itself.

At any rate, this machine would not be feasible in reality, as it would take up far too much space for even a two-minute song, and where would you get all the potentially endless modules and nodes and where on Earth would you store them? - you would need something close in size to an entire town or at least a several-block area, or a few really tall buildings - imagine if all the DVD movies you had took up the space implied by the sets in them, even solely within the range of where the main focus was on the actors. This is also somewhat akin to dreaming about computer games being an actual physical device (such as a large and complex three-dimensional board game with robotic tokens) than a computer screen.

Morning of September 1, 2013. Sunday.



This was recent (last night - seemingly night-long and into the morning), and, like a lot of my dreams, had so many scenes and details, it would likely fill at least twenty pages, so the best thing to do is describe some of the basics and the more “intimate” or more “dominant” scenes.

I somehow end up on an alternate Earth. This alternate Earth is not of the “twin planet” or “shadow planet” variety of past dreams (always in orbit on the opposite side of the sun according to some theories), but in a different dimension of which everything keeps going into an infinite number of other dimensions with endless other “Earths” with the idea that all of space (in “this” universe) is connected to other universes in wave constructs and is represented in theory by a mirror held up to another mirror - which supposedly shows infinity, where each image is duplicated back on itself - yet each alternate Earth in its own part of the infinite wave rather than being only an otherwise identical reflection. Much is the same (language, countries, and mainstream business seems the same), except that the society is fairly different in some ways, such as being more tribal and hunter-oriented (at least in some regions) with older types of weapons, which actually is quite anachronistic considering the higher (more advanced than in real life) technology I see later in my dream, although I guess it is all normal to them in overall orientation. Still, the mentality at times seems rather “primitive” in terms of a more “shallow”/fearful view of strangers and I do not think there are automobiles or certain other inventions. Also, certain types of food, plants, and so on, are quite different.

This almost seems like a very long “life review”, as many scenes relate to my early childhood and young adult years as well as more recent.

The first parts are about my first arriving on the alternate Earth. A couple people help me by keeping me safe from otherwise friendly hunting groups who may be dangerously afraid of my presence and attack me or keep me prisoner. They actually seem almost like cavemen in furs and “primitive” jewelry but with hunting gear from the 1920s. A lady nearly eighty years old seems to give me the most information on my new “home” and where to go before preparing to meet the members of this alternate society. There is some sort of fungus they collect which is used as the “cheese” of this world and collected mostly from the ground near certain forests. At one point, it looks like popcorn lying about on the ground everywhere. Even so, the older lady rudely claims that cheese is just a myth (even though it is visible everywhere - although it is possible she means real cheese which the inhabitants of this world forgot how to make, so it eventually became only legend).

A couple of smaller “monkeys”, but which are also supposedly adult humans (just from a different “tribe”), walk by me with spears (with no threat implied) - seeming just a little more human than monkey, but are only about three feet tall. They openly urinate in close proximity and I become annoyed. This reminded me of a real life period back in school where we had small monkeys in a large cage. They often came close to the students to dig into their shirt pockets.

I cross a truncated bridge nearly to the end, by hanging with my hands (even fingertips) - yet somehow moving along without falling. This is across from another similar (but newer?) structure. My wife is there (although likely the alternate Earth’s “version”) watching from near the bay. I finally get too tired to go on much farther, which does not matter as I have reached the end of the structure anyway. I land on a concrete platform - which is much closer than first thought so that I seemingly only fall about a foot - that serves as some sort of pylon. An elephant walks around on it and for a short time I am concerned I will be stepped on. This goes back to my early childhood in real life where my parents took me to see a trainer with an elephant in the parking lot of a store a few times (photos were taken) but which I was afraid at first and yelling for my parents to close the windows of the car. Also, I only recently caught the play on elephant’s trunk and the word “truncated”, as the elephant was on the last section of the bridge-like structure.

There also seems to be a slight connection to the Echo and the Bunnymen song “Silver”, relating to lines such as “My planet sweet on a silver salver”, “You’re living proof at my fingertips”, “Food for survival thought, mapped out the place where I planned to stay, all the way, well behaved, just in case it slips away…” and I am vaguely aware of its “distant” music at times.

We (again, my “alternate” wife?) and I meet a president-like character. It is revealed that he needs someone who can speak Russian, so I take the role after my wife advises him. He first needs to know the word for “goodbye” for some reason, which is “dasvidaniya”. I also tell him several other words and phrases which he repeats, such as “thank you” (spasibo, but said as “spasiba” as with many spellings ending in “o”), “horosho”, etc. Eventually, he already seems fluent in Russian and turns around to say “Chto (shto) vy znaete o Rossi” (“What do you know about Russia?”) and I suddenly “get” that I am Henry Spencer from “Eraserhead” so I answer by saying “Oh, I don’t know much of anything” which he responds with “Chto delat?” (“What is to be done?”)

The stocky president-like character and I are having another conversation later on. I ask if he is familiar with Russia and if Russia is bigger (making motions with my hands moving out to indicate being of a larger size). Oddly, this seems after the previous scene of the potential of becoming an interpreter (Russian) for this character or is just asynchronous as many dreams are, relative to some sort of “rotational practice” before a later “version” of the same dream (anyway, relating to the alternate Earth of which is thus far very much like “my” Earth historically). At any rate, I ask him about past conflicts and everything is going normally in historical discussion. However, when I mention “Europe”, he looks at me oddly and decides that I am making a clever joke when I talk about the war. He says that that is why he likes me, because I am amusing and have a good sense of humor. I have no idea what he means. I determine that either Europe does not exist on this alternate Earth, that “Europe” means something else in this alternate form of English, I am somehow actually in Western Europe without having known it to this point, or that particular conflicts never occurred (with a strong emphasis on this last idea relative to the smile he has, seeming to indicate Western Europe is the main force of diplomatic relations through all of history in this alternate world).

A later scene involves this alternate Earth being in trouble because of my presence and causing alterations in electromagnetic fields and gravity itself. I see all these changes on a large monitor, along with smaller monitors, similar to a train station - setup via satellite feed. The bottom of the Earth is warping and becoming black at times - there are silver grid lines related to latitude and longitude which also darken and twist even though they are otherwise “imaginary lines”. The alternate Earth, in its twisting, actually seems fluid at times as it almost seems to twist and warp downwards in implied spiral patterns - or maybe it is only the monitor’s satellite feed distortion showing this effect. As I stand there, I can feel the Earth stop and start again. Darkness falls, but then it is daylight again. People are concerned, but we do not seem to be in immediate danger even though the bottom of the planet looks completely destroyed - but it just “warps back” with no significant casualties yet.

A supposed “solution” is to send me away as soon as possible back to my own dimension/universe via a rocket or some such (actually - an alien spacecraft that had landed or crashed years prior to my arrival). However, I am fully aware that the plan is not feasible but follow the president-like figure anyway (who reminds me more and more of Hoyt Axton as he looked in the last days of his life). We go to a far more futuristic building, with a series of automatic doors (reminding me a bit of the opening of the “Get Smart” TV series, but more realistic and silver-oriented, with “smoother technology”). We come to the end of a hall where an alien had been kept for many years. The alien prisoner is like a cross between human and squid, about five feet tall. I wave at him and for the first time in captivity, he seems to relax and waves back with his “fingers” which are small tentacles. He says “Fahkwa”, “Farkwa” or “Farqua” - which seems to indicate his name, his present health status, or perhaps where he is from. This is the one time before in the alternate Earth’s history that a “visitor from elsewhere” other than me was present. However, the creature is not from “my” universe. The other people are glad that I have established communication with him even though he had been kept prisoner all that time. Maybe now, they will work to get him home as well.

Eventually, I understand that the way to save this alternate universe (and stabilize it) is to simply wake up - and so I do.

This dream, as well as seemingly being a very long “life review” type (yet with no precise theme or meaning), also seemed to be a large and near-perfect integrated combination of a number of movies, including: “The Stranger” (1973 TV pilot), “The Philadelphia Experiment” (1984), “Prince of Darkness” (1987), “The Lake” (1998 TV), “The Astronaut’s Wife” (1999), “Another Earth” (2011), and “Area 51” (2013).

It also brings to mind (on a much lower scale) “Melancholia”, although far more like “When Worlds Collide” (1951) than the twin planet/twin dimension themes.

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Morning of August 2, 2013. Friday.

Dream #: 17,028-03. Reading time: 2 min 32 sec.



It is unclear why the world is being “stopped” by God. It may relate to the endless clashes of culture and religions or the fabrications by governments and businesses to serve their interests.

I am in a business building with others, though unsure of where my family is. The world gets increasingly warmer but stops at the threshold where life would end. The drama begins when darkness suddenly falls. Most people are afraid, but I am partly aware of what is coming.

Time passes, and I feel movement around me. I rise to float into the air, and so do all the others. It is not like flying but floating without gravity and with no control with the danger of randomly bumping into someone or something and while going at different speeds. It does not terrify me as it does the others. I tell them that God has taken gravity away from the human race. (This may be an influence from recently seeing others on the Internet writing about how “good” or “bad” gravity is.) The planets and stars are beginning to vanish.

More time passes, and the end is coming. I feel a sense of awe and a slight regret. What will happen to me? The world will cease to exist. Suddenly, as all the gravity is gone and most people in the world are very close to death, the doorway is brighter and a strange being of light and shadow, an angel, appears in a cloak. It looks like a “plant of light”, but also seems human at times. Its head, hands, and feet are each like a glowing, swaying cedar sprout. (I do not recall the Biblical reference “swaying like a cedar” in describing Behemoth’s tail. According to some, Behemoth is a hippo or elephant.) At times, the angel’s head and limbs look like a glowing elephant’s tail. The being formally calls for me, using my full name, saying it once. I fearlessly maneuver myself toward the angel. I hear no other name. I feel slightly strange at being the only one called at the “last minute”.

I feel very emotional, crying in thankfulness. The angel becomes a “throne” after carrying me through the doorway, hovering in this other dimension. It is Eternity or Heaven, or something similar, yet I am the only human here. I notice other angels, too brightly glowing to make out much detail, all to my left. I am joyful because I still exist. I am vaguely aware, after a seemingly long time that this is not final, as I am slowly waking. I have a false awakening that I am telling my wife about my previous dream, saying how it had aspects similar to Christianity, though no thoughts of names or specific identities.

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My dream had a sense of bilocation. When I was in Heaven, I was also aware of floating within the Cubitis house’s southwest bedroom, its door facing me from a short distance off to my right.

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I think there was influence from the “Outer Limits” episode “Cold Hands, Warm Heart” (with William Shatner) that I have not seen in over twenty years, regarding the appearance of the angelic being.

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The angel head and limbs with the appearance of an elephant’s tail may relate to quashing my childhood fear of elephants.

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In another dream, I become a big blanket while flying and phasing through walls, as well as soaring high and fast in the night sky. I was also a human and undressed, using it to cover myself, more so to shield my body from tree branches rather than for moral reasons. It transforms into suitable clothing when I land.

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I also had a dream about an unusual snowmobile, which turned out to be precognitive, part of an unexpected scenario for an educational session the same day.

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