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    Returning Elsewhere

    by , 02-26-2015 at 02:23 PM (117 Views)
    Morning of February 26, 2015. Thursday.

    This was one of those dreams which greatly distorted time (one of those unlikely “alternate timeline” kind of ways) and personalities. However, there are some insignificant parallels between otherwise unrelated personal associations, though they seem somewhat pointless and out-of-place (as well as long-outdated relative to my present life).

    In the first part of my dream I find myself in an alley in a basic scene that used to be recurring, but that was more-so years ago. In this case, I find two types of items that have been placed in boxes near dumpsters in an alley near, I believe, a pawn shop. There are a large number of craft items, mostly cross-stitch kits, still new and unopened. One smaller kit seems to be that of a rose. I think about how it would be good to give it to my sister (who is deceased in reality). I also find numerous comic books as well as educational books and some historical magazines relating to war. There are a lot of duplicate items.

    For some time, I look through the various books (as well as the boxes in general) and am trying to work out how to get some of it back to my sister’s house, because I eventually gather enough to fill about half of a small room. Two police officers (male and female) stop by for a short time, but there is no concern that I am doing anything wrong. They mostly talk to a few others involved in trying to work out why the boxes are stacked there and if they have the right to take any (because, in fact, it may be related to a delivery to the business rather than the business discarding items). It turns out that my sister’s house is about six to eight blocks away to the east and a couple blocks north from there. Something relative to my awareness shifts in my dream and even though I am not lucid, I am able to pick up the entire collection of items and casually carry it down the street as if I was a “human forklift”. I have no sense of heavier weight carrying this high and wide pile of boxes with both hands out in front of me in an otherwise impossible manner (this seems to be the first time in my life that I have dreamed of this specifically).

    The location is La Crosse (America) and it does not “register” that my family and I are living in Australia (in reality). For some reason, my youngest son is sometimes looked after by a female (CS) who has what is now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder (as well as other problems) who had also known my older sister in real life years ago. I only seem to think about this as concern begins to grow as my dream progresses and the false back story is vaguely built. It seems this female may even be living downstairs in my sister’s house and taking care of a (unknown) boy and girl as well as my youngest son at times. I am not sure why my wife would not be taking care of him when I am not home. Our other children do not seem to be present at any point. Both my sister and her friend are as they would have appeared about thirty years ago though my son appears as he should. In my dream, I get the impression that my wife and family and I live across the street from my sister, though again, the back story is not that clear.

    The level of alteration and distortion at this point is quite unwarranted (which is somewhat atypical of how my dreams usually unfold). However, it may be partly based on long-resolved or “extinct” concerns - relating more to my wife’s mother in some ways than my sister’s friend (both are extremely deceitful troublemakers). Somehow, my youngest son may not even be clear on who I am due to how long I have supposedly been absent (which has never been the case in reality with any of our children). At one point, my son says “I know who you are” as if speaking to someone who is not actually me and in a negative sense. When I speak to my sister about the problematic female that has likely misguided my youngest son, my sister starts out saying “I feel…” (as if ready to defend that person for some reason) but I interrupt immediately by sarcastically saying “you feel…what?” (This may be some sort of subtle awareness that my dream self knew she had died; even showing an undue in-dream meanness towards her.) From here, my dream decays, but there remains a very unlikely nature to the entire scenario. Although it is typical for many types of dreams, even ones closer to one’s real life path, to get everything wrong (other than any mixed literally or visually precognitive and remote viewing layers) this one was more distorted than usual.

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    Tags: bin, magazines