memorable

Morning of October 8, 1990. Monday.



Three different postal addresses represented (over time) my childhood home in Cubitis in reality. There was was the original “General Delivery” where you claimed your mail at the post office by name only, without any identification. It was a small town, so I guess people trusted each other for the most part, although it was probably more realistic to say you were known by all (to a point). After this, we had “PO Box 29” at the post office. Finally, it was “Rural Route 4 Box 504”, established by a mailbox across the highway in front of Karen and Kenny’s house. I am “sorting” these memories out in my mind and moving into a different “realm” - “living in Cubitis in-dream” even though I was living in La Crosse at this time.

Finally I settle on some sort of “new” connection with Brenda W. I had not seen her in reality since 1977. This was before I had done extensive dream work and discovered overwhelming evidence that Brenda W was, since early childhood, a “stand-in” archetype for my real wife-to-be, who was also typically represented by an implied tulpa or “imaginary girlfriend” (with every single unlikely aspect matching my wife-to-be exactly including the mixed Magyarorszagi Romak and Australian accent and heritage - the only girl I have ever directly known with this mix - though I am sure there are many others in the world). I am not entirely sure why Brenda W was “selected” (by who knows what forces in the universe) to be the “stand-in”. There was not that much of a resemblance, really, other than dark, somewhat curly hair and a loose association (on Brenda’s part) with Roma (or Hungarian gypsy) culture. Brenda was not Roma.

There is a lot to consider - and it is a challenge to augment one’s attention towards several thousand dreams of a particular nature. Ever since I broke through into my realization of the “paranormal” (for lack of a better or more suitable term) nature of my life since birth with far more remote viewing and precognitive perspectives (eventually, even while awake) than not (as well as the continuous meaningful synchronicity), it has put me into a rather “unusual” life path (by typical mainstream perspective only - I no longer seriously associate the unexplained as unusual) as well as in regard to my continuous bafflement with humanity itself (which I consider far more unexplainable than the so-called paranormal). Before the “Blue Sun” dream, I could still ponder if Brenda had become a stand-in for my “imaginary” wife-to-be (that was validated to be real about six months from this dream) due to a (lesser or forgotten) conscious choice - simply to “fill the gap”. My “mystery girl” however, turned out to be real.

In my dream, there is one scene where I see an adult Brenda W (or who I assume to be her as I had never seen her as an older adult) at the end of a checkout at Tinsley’s IGA. She smiles at me and I am aware that she is a poet and that we are apparently crossing paths again for whatever reason. (Brenda never really wrote poetry, though my wife is a published poet.) There are remembered lines in my own unfolding in-dream poem (not in any competition with her poetry but more like some sort of ode), one being “like blue lightning from your fingertips” which is directly relevant to Brenda somehow, seemingly related to her emotions and my memory. Reflecting on this line from the (fictional) poem seems to resonate with the real-life memory of when we played around with static electricity where you shuffle along and then touch someone to create the larger bolt of static “lightning” which more often than not is slightly painful. In my dreams, this effect came to be far more pronounced and was not painful and at times seemed more related to spirituality, even healing, than solely a physical effect.

In the last scene of my dream, I walk out into my backyard in Cubitis and notice a huge blue sun in the sky, to the east. In this particular dream, it is several times bigger than the real sun (though it is not implied to be hotter in-dream). It seems almost like a dominant spiritual force and “blessing” of some kind from the universe itself and I feel very enriched and optimistic at this point. I seem to be the only one around at the time. I wake in near-ecstasy with the “blue sun” pulsating in my left eye - and I still see it to this day, usually only when awake and more alert, and it always brings an astoundingly peaceful essence. (Other people who have experienced this call it the “blue dot”, Blue Pearl, or “blue angel” though I now see it as the primary foundation of the Merkaba, which eventually begins to rotate in a cone shape.)

This had interesting real-life continuity, though there were a number of other dreams that far more clearly defined what was coming in my life to an extent that was far more dominant than most earlier experiences (other than perhaps M’s death). I eventually learned the “mystery girl” aka “imaginary girl” was a real person and she became my wife, first making contact in March 1991.

After my blue sun dream, and without having mentioned it, my brother-in-law Bob looked startled in the living room one day, claiming he saw a “blue flame” around my head and shoulders. This is especially curious since he had never said anything remotely like that in the past - and in addition - he could not have known of my dream, and there is also the fact that he never had the slightest interest in unexplained events or cared anything at all about dreams prior to that. His life was mostly factory work, television, and fishing, and little else - and he also could not read.

Again, to this day, I still see the “blue sun” when awake, in the left field of my vision. Sometimes it is bright enough to “cancel” my real sight (and leave a whitish afterglow), but more often it is like a fleeting single blue “pulse” about the size of a star (though does sometimes repeat a few times at various “distances” and “magnitudes”) - it always brings a blissful sensation and has never been connected with anything negative. It seems directly related to some forms of telepathy and precognitive awareness. Again, I have learned that other people have experienced this, all with similar associations, and I have grown to call it “The Blue Pearl” as some others have.

As written of before, its first main appearance was as a “blue flame” around Susan R, but this was mostly an isolated event. This was the dream where I “went off with Brenda W instead - to the east”. It does seem part of the “eternity bridge” association I had recently written extensively on. In the long run, it seems to be linked with a “higher dimension” that many are not aware of. The two more “extreme” experiences with it while awake was one where it transformed into two somewhat pyramidic “blue tornadoes” (one inverted over the other and turning in the opposite direction, curiously demonstrating the Coriolis effect and the fact my wife and I grew up in opposite hemispheres by both north/south and east/west references) and the other was like suddenly seeing a “giant paramecium” with the hypnopompic-like tank-tread effect - which was the “closest” it had ever been.

Seeing this light or “flash” is not like seeing something in front of me. It is, in fact, like seeing a reflection of something that is behind me or more specifically within my mind in the reversed holographic reflection of the environment. The “blue tornadoes” event was seemingly triggered by just touching my wife on the arm. The essence of the Source is a true mystery - something that has remained primarily unchanged and which others have noted, though I still cannot say what the mechanism behind it is.

Night of September 13, 1990. Thursday.



This was a partly recurring dream a few months prior to making first contact with my lovely wife-to-be.

The world is ending. Or is it only a play/movie from the mind of Ödön von Horváth? (who I had read of at the library, based on an earlier dream). There is supposedly a true story (at least possibly true relative to the quote if not the event itself) - Ödön von Horváth was once walking in the Bavarian Alps when he discovered the skeleton of a long dead man with his knapsack still intact. Von Horváth opened the knapsack and found a postcard reading “Having a wonderful time”. Asked by friends what he did with it, von Horváth replied “I posted it”.

No, the world really is ending, apparently. There is a fire that is consuming the world. It is a fire containing the souls of all of the people who had died under Hitler - or so this seems, as some sort of epic movie-like plot. Their shadows move (walking about) within the fire as it spreads across the planet. It reminds me vaguely of certain concepts from “The Fog” from 1980. Though it has been a common theme since earliest memory to attempt escape from something by going around the world away from it, in as straight a direction as possible, and sometimes back from the other side, this particular scenario is new and unique to this dream series.

For some reason, they are moving in the United States towards Wisconsin (from the west), where I am living at the time of my dream. There is great awe and fear near the seeming opening of my dream, although not quite nightmarish. Also, for some strange reason, only my brother Dennis and I are actively planning to get out in time.

There seems to be enough time to get away at first. They seem about two blocks west of where I am living (but the fire stretches north to south, as far as the eye can see in both directions).

My brother and I get on our bicycles to leave. We start to ride south (not really away from the fire, but parallel to it for some reason).

Suddenly, as we are riding our bicycles, with knapsacks as well as a bit in the back bicycle baskets (I am even aware of the “Having a wonderful time” postcard in his knapsack), my brother somehow immediately has a glass of water which he throws in my face from his left hand (while still steering the bicycle with his right hand). As it splashes my face, I become much more aware and my dream more vivid, but still not fully aware that I am dreaming. This, in turn, causes me to think a little more clearly…why in the world am I riding with my half-brother who has a swastika tattoo on his hand? Wouldn’t that “attract” the supposed entities in the fire in a negative sense? However, at the same time, I get the strange impression I am “leaving” my girlfriend (”mystery girl”) or wife and am starting to question the nature of the setting.

We come to an area on the south-side of La Crosse where there has been some sort of earthquake damage. It is too hard to ride a bicycle there, so I get off and walk. There are “brittle” burned plants everywhere even though the main fire is still behind us.

I turn and look at the fire, which is about as high as a five-storey building. One of the “souls” in the fire is female and now seems quite alive and passionate, seemingly having spent her lifetime looking for me as I, her. I stop and decide to become a part of something I could not possibly have “escaped” from, anyway.

Then it seems that I got it all wrong. These people were not the “ghosts” of those who died under Hitler, but the energies of spirits looking for their partners in life or “twin flames”. Fire is life. Ashes are death. Should I tell the world that there was nothing to fear after all? I wake…

Morning of September 11, 1990. Tuesday.



Of all the continuous precognitive dreams I have had since early childhood (many of which were specifically linked to my wife-to-be, though some of that is now considered as “sent” impressions from her long before we met), this one stands out a bit more as it has several layers of precognition relative to a particular time period (though I have had many like this since childhood, including the “Patches” series which even foreshadowed the exact but highly unlikely imagery from how the house in Cubitis would look many years later). The mood was somewhat similar to the more impersonal missing Malaysian flight dreams I wrote online just prior to the actual events (and one post which still has the original server date for the “cop out” mentality crowd that pretends to have an answer for such things that really could not even begin to be explained in human terms). The odd thing about the missing Malaysian flight (in terms of my precognitive dreams) is perhaps related to the fact that Malaysia also has buildings called the “twin towers”. This is something I have only pondered fairly recently. Pop culture synchronicity and foreshadowing may be more relative to some world events than how my own mind is differently wired.

Before I get into the more summarized details of this dream (only the more major scenes), I should mention possible (but vague and very early childhood) influence from the May 1952 issue of “Imagination”, one of those digests leafed through before I could read much (in 1965 at age 4) and which a brother-in-law (sister Carol’s first husband) sometimes dried out on a wood stove after retrieving them from the dump. As mentioned in other entries, this cover featured a dark-haired woman with her arms raised and two skyscrapers coming apart in the foreground. This featured the story “Tonight the Sky Will Fall”, which also happened to coincidentally be in the same edition as a hard-to-find book I had in my youth (a particular print of “Space Opera”) but which inexplicably a copy (same edition, even) was on the top of a pile in the Maryborough library - in fact, the first book seen in the first trip to the library after meeting Zsuzsanna my wife-to-be and the last place I would expect to find such a book. This event made even me do a double-take and once again think “what in the world is going on” for a week after, even though I was used to unexplained wide-ranging over-the-top synchronous events by that point. April 9, 1994 was also a relevant date to this dream concerning the “rise of the tower” and seems directly related to the concept of the 99th day: "Jerusalem literally fell on Tam. 9th, 586 BC, which was the 99th day of that year.“ Without intending it, we got married on April 9, 1994. It just worked out that way due to time and VISA concerns. (In my "Kingdom” story, which used details from this dream and others and written during this time period, the date of the event was also associated with 11-9, though Australian month and days are indeed reversed this way. This dream was also partly influenced by Tom Petty’s “You Got Lucky” video, regarding a scene after the supposed apocalypse and my dislike of older video games.)

In my dream, the only directly familiar character (aside from the “mystery girl”) is my older brother Dennis (from my mother’s side). For some reason, we seem to be in New York and enter the ground floor of one of the World Trade Center buildings. I find myself gazing intently on “A Young Lady Reclining After a Bath” (Muhammad Mu’min). The painting is covering nearly the entire upper half of the wall. However, it appears mirrored to how it actually appears in reality and at one point seems to become far more lifelike, displaying the familiar “mystery girl” of hundreds of past dreams. The image shifts to where she is also more on her side and seemingly eating a fig. Dennis also looks at it but seemingly for a different reason, as if he is uncomfortable. For some reason, I get the strong impression that this is the “Persian princess” I will marry (even though the “mystery girl” also had Hungarian Romani heritage on her father’s side) and it will be within less than a year that she will make contact (which it was, in March of 1991). I “explain” this to my brother Dennis, though he seems a bit awestruck by other unknown concerns. We go up to the top at one point and it seems to be like the Lake Placid Tower (although it was Carol and her husband that took me there, not Dennis). I feel a strong sense of urgency that we need to get back down to ground-level and so we do.

From here, a dramatic event unfolds. I start to feel a very strange and unexplainable awareness of motion and change, and a powerful sense of “something coming up from below”. A large tower rises directly from the ground and knocks aside the World Trade Center towers. They collapse suddenly but then seem to vanish. The “new” tower is multicolored but otherwise ancient-looking and I sense that it is Persian. Dennis leaves the area and my dream shifts slightly.

From there, I see hundreds of people wandering in the streets, seeming confused and some in shock, looking at the “new” unusual skyscraper. The people are looking at numerous posters of missing people on various fences and such (this part being identical to imagery I saw on television after 9-11). I spontaneously say, “Well, it was a nice planet while you had it”. A young male looks at me oddly and somewhat angrily. I look up into the sky and notice two large objects, seemingly pillars of green fire that move horizontally and then arc upwards. They make a sizzling sound and I am not quite sure what they are. I get a sense of something Biblical and cannot quite think of them as spaceships even though I seem to resolve them as such as I wake.

The missing Malaysian flight was another extreme and unlikely world event which I did manage to post online at least part of beforehand from a few precognitive dreams (and since did not edit - the server date remaining as prior to the event for the typical “cop out” crowd). As I am certain I am not the only one that has experienced this continuously, I have to wonder what is going on with the rest of society (and in fact have wondered this since I was about four).

Precognition often has extreme and layered detail in terms of overall accuracy, yet is often skewed into unlikely composites linked with one’s own life (but which may also be linked to books or movies you have not yet seen in an artificially personal way as if the fictional event was actually integrated into your own life somehow in-dream), which is why it often seems “wrong” or not correctly “seen” (not counting visually exact remote viewing and similar perspectives). I have been studying the nature of this since childhood. It seems to be a combination of true precognition, skewed metaphors, and visual associations that are more relative to puns or other types of plays. It is also often so trivial and impersonal as to be ridiculous (such as dreaming with more precision about a television commercial or comic book before you see it). The 9-11 pop culture foreshadowing has been more significant and examples of it can be found all over the Internet, which tells me that the majority of people can “see” yet somehow do not acknowledge or express it more socially (but through art, stories, comic strips, and so on). It seems that only long-term dream journalists are the ones the most open and honest about it (and of course for entries already written such as my Malaysian flight going missing, the point becomes moot anyway, I suppose).

Night of August 15, 1990. Wednesday.



Prior to contacting my wife-to-be for the very first time in waking reality, I had a very vivid dream of two comets orbiting each other in a very close spiral pattern and becoming the Yin Yang symbol for a time. The feeling of Fall/Autumn seems slightly enhanced. The pattern of the two “comets” eventually turned into a Paisley design after moving apart again. I am also aware of one-half of the Yin-Yang symbol floating out over the ocean (seemingly from another country far away), like a sort of intelligently guided swirl - and I feel a sense of peace. It moves in a circle, but at times becomes comet-like again - leaving a trail of subtle sparks and brilliant wavy lines.

After several minutes, the swirling light becomes of human form and “lands” on the shore, near the ocean. (The original objects appeared to come to me from the south.)

It turned into a girl named Amelia (wearing a Paisley dress) possibly of about seven to nine years of age (no older than twelve), standing on rocks a bit out from the shore. I “knew” she was my future daughter Amelia (in complete contrast to when my “mystery girl”, that is, Zsuzsanna, appeared in a dream). She is seemingly wearing an old-fashioned dress with a blue and gold flower design.

There is also a curious feeling of peace and assurance that seems to be coming from some sort of “superior force” (of nature?).

The Paisley design represents another subtle form of the Yin Yang symbol for me. This was a fairly common “pre-anniversary” dream, where the date prior to the precognitive link matches (in this case, my real daughter’s birthday). My wife-to-be, without any clues or cues from me, told me that she liked the name “Amelia” and thus we decided on this as a first name before we even met.

Night of April 7, 1990. Saturday.



I remember only one more significant dream of a hyena to date thus far from before I came to Australia and even that one was precognitive in at least three separate layers. A mentally ill woman my sister knew had a birthday on this day and I did not want to be around her house at the time. However, it seems a relative of hers (named Martin, which makes me think of Mad Magazine’s Don Martin, thus part of my dream seemed vaguely linked to “Lena the Hyena” - the contest winning image by Mad Magazine’s Basil Wolverton that supposedly led him to fame) lives across the street and is out hunting or some such, but is actually a “monster” pretending to be hunting deer. There is some sort of plot relating to a hyena-man, who is like a “were-hyena” (similar to a werewolf) and going after people. I see “suggestions” of his shadow moving about on a few different walls of unknown locations. I wake slightly, but fall back into sleep at least once.

For some reason, I am thinking of the movie “Eraserhead” that I had seen about twenty times or more by that time, but never dreamt about much of the imagery before. I am thinking of the “little girl in the radiator” (from “Eraserhead” - but is actually listed as “the lady in the radiator” in the movie - she always reminded me of a young chipmunk or mutated child (or perhaps a seriously odd version of Betty Boop) - yet is here young Effie Elmer from the “Mourning Picture”). There is a scene similar to in the movie where the radiator is implied to open like a door onto a stage, but in this case, it is an actual carousel with balloons and lights (Effie is a “happy ghost” here just needing a friend and for the radiator to generate more heat).

I then seem to be having two dreams at the same time, the “Eraserhead-like” one and the “were-hyena” one. Eventually, I am aware that the “were-hyena” is in my street, near the house across the street. He goes after one of the college girls in the large house across from where I live and soon starts “laughing” insanely (like a hyena), the girl screaming (but the “laugh” being much louder). This was the only time I have ever heard such a disturbing sound. The image of Effie’s head, looking slightly to the right, superimposed on the radiator, changes into that of the monster “hyena man” in a sort of ghostly effect and is then staring out at me. I am still seeing it as I am waking, and it actually takes about 20 seconds or so for the hypnopompic hallucination to fade completely. The terrifying sound (in real-life) was caused by a horrid car tire sound skidding near the house across the street, with the tire seeming to actually be stuck in part of the street at the time or stuck in partially melted ice and dirt. I had never heard the sound before. This was followed by a girl yelling in real life about the problem.

Three precognitive layers discerned thus far:

1. My dream had already set up the plot and approaching climax before my dream ended with the real-life sound of the horrid “laughing were-hyena” sound that did sound somewhat like a real hyena. This seems to imply that I knew I would be hearing that sound quite some time before I heard it that night while still in-dream.

2. An episode of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” implied such a creature (and “demonic hyenas”). The episode was called “The Pack”. I had never heard of the concept before in real life until then. The episode, according to IMDb, aired on April 7th, 1997 (see above regarding April 7th, 1990 - IMDb has been known to be wrong, though).

3. There actually was a book published in 2010 called “The Little Girl in the Radiator”, where one cover was much like my dream imagery of years before, written by Martin Slevin.

Also, as I was writing this, someone posted a dream about “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”; first time I have seen that show referenced on the dream journal site. This sort of synchronicity happens to me continuously.

Morning of January 7, 1990. Sunday. (This is a new online concise and clarified version Monday, 7 December 2015.)



In my dream, I am in La Crosse, Wisconsin, but the area seems different, even seemingly near the ocean at one point - or at least the Mississippi seems bigger and more dominant a feature of the region. Water is rising over a long bridge in one clearer event. It seems the whole region is threatened by rising flood waters that are somewhat “relentless” in that the forces almost seem “intelligent” (in a human or near-human sense) or possibly controlled by a malevolent force of some kind. There is an eerie mood in my dream and I and several others are always moving away from areas that become flooded, almost as if the waters are somehow deliberately “in pursuit” of us. It mostly seems nighttime throughout my dream.

We end up going down into a basement-like area that also serves as a post office, the layout seeming like a composite of Arcadia’s post office and the main one in La Crosse. The flood waters are raging and come down the steps (vaguely reminiscent of a scene from “The Blob” from 1958) with a human-like vengeance. At this point, I am becoming more frustrated than afraid. I stop and make my stand and boldly ask the raging flood waters that threaten to fill the post-office/basement area “What about the children?”

The stream of raging water moves up and back almost like a hand (as if about to slap someone, but also in a sort of odd “puzzlement” at my audacity) and then moves back up the steps literally in reverse (as if playing a film clip of water cascading down the stairs in reverse). A little later, I and the others exit the building and look around, noting that the flood waters have receded, leaving only a few puddles here and there in the mostly featureless landscape. More light and detail is coming in at this point, as the sun also seems to be rising.

The silhouette of a religious statue, which seems to be Jesus Christ, can be seen to the south. A dark-haired female (my lifelong green-eyed “mystery girl”) approaches it and it begins to glow (with a bluish tinge) and come to life as I wake, with several other people then encircling it. I hear clearer music in my dream that I did not hear in reality until my wife sent it on a cassette tape (the same melody and overall sound as Enya’s “Shepard Moons”, which was not even released until November 4, 1991 in the UK).

Familiar meanings:

This dream curiously contains five different waking process mechanisms during the same time period:

1. A bridge being blocked (disallowing the dream self to move further into the dream state or incidentally explore another region of thought).

2. Flood waters getting lower (waking process metaphor to indicate less of the Source is present and available as the conscious self is reintegrated). Flood waters are energies of both the Source and lower levels of human collective consciousness (including other dreamers during the same time period), even more obvious here, as I eventually became aware that the flood waters were an aspect of the energies of seemingly human consciousness as well as an aspect of the Source, though seemingly angry.

3. A threat to run from (to more efficiently instigate the dissolution of the dream and annihilate the particular incarnation of the dream self).

4. A statue coming to life (metaphorical for the conscious self waking up from the dream, or in some cases, coming into clearer awareness within the dream). The fact that it was Jesus Christ (though I am not a Christian) was more information on my lifelong dark-haired mystery girl being closer to my path in the sense of a spiritual awakening.

5. The sun rising and light coming in (metaphorical for the conscious self waking up from the dream as well as conscious logic and analytical skills becoming more prominent during this stage)

Precognitive links and additional notes:

This dream demonstrates typical “pre-anniversary” precognition (my oldest son being born on January 7, 1995). It also (“against all odds“) prepared me for what was to come.

The post office has been an important setting throughout my life (and represents communication with the Source, especially as a basement also represents being closer to the Source as well as collective consciousness - including the implication of being deeper in the dream state), especially relating to how I would come into contact with my predestined (for lack of a better term) dream girl. This goes all the way back to dreaming as a child of the PAIA having a meeting in the Arcadia Post Office while seated in a circle on the floor near the main counter (this in turn relative to the newspaper where my wife’s mother placed the advertisement that captured my attention as I had dreamt of the situation just previously in opening the gate to my dream girl) before the group even existed in real life. Even so, “I hug PO Virgo” is implied as a pattern (next vowel, next consonant continuity) in my full name, PO standing for Post Office (though Virgo being only one of thousands of “clues” from the Source, not relevant to astrology, which has no meaning for me).

Night of April 10, 1989. Monday.



I am at my sister Marilyn’s house in La Crosse (on Loomis Street). It is fairly late at night. My brother-in-law Bob is watching television (and “not socially present”) as usual and I think my sister is working on a latch-hook rug. Brother Dennis and sister’s friend CS are also there.

Over time, bees get in the house through the front porch. I am very annoyed at the thought, as they pose a threat (though I am not allergic) in my dream (but I have nothing against them in real life). Eventually, I go outside onto the street (not in the middle, but to one side - the west, closet to my sister’s house, where cars usually park). I start dancing and singing in what is somewhat like a slow version of the Shawnee Stomp Dance.

Curiously, some clouds gather over the full moon and it starts to rain. The bees start to land on me, but the rain washes them away and I start to feel more and more ecstatic, moving my head about and surrendering to the amazing sensations of rain on my body.

I am watched from the doorway as if people are concerned about me. Apparently, they seem to think it is better to sit inside the house and get stung by bees than to be out dancing in the rain and getting wet. For some reason, this (their amazing ignorance) only inspires me to dance with more enthusiasm and sing louder and louder, feeling more and more blissful while giving thanks to the dark night sky above me that delivers the purity (in my dream) of the rain.

I am aware of their shadows in the doorway as if from a “lower” world or plane or beyond/below infrared. They stay inside as a feeling of beauty overwhelms me, almost like ecstasy, which leaves me breathless and feeling as if I am suddenly flying, seemingly formless, at an incredible speed into green fields.

---

Morning of October 11, 1988. Tuesday.



I am on an old-fashioned passenger train (as if from an episode of “Gunsmoke”, though a few people here and there are dressed rather anachronistically relative to more modern dress as well). I seem to be dressed typically as I often am in reality. I have a strange atypical focus, as if I am in a type of ambiguous faux lucidity and am trying to work out how I got where I am and with a vague ominous perspective. A younger version of the “mystery girl” (the female archetype that represented, in almost every accurate way possible - my wife-to-be - something “normal” people would never believe no matter how many hundreds of dreams had already clearly established it for me since birth).

Being on a train may or may not be a good thing, I contemplate “realistically” in-dream. There is some sort of “anniversary” premonitory thought in-dream related to both the scene from “Twilight Zone: The Movie” from June 1983 (where the Jewish people are being taken away on a train), and “Love My Way” (by The Psychedelic Furs) from June 1982, with the line “They’d put us on a railroad, they’d dearly make us pay”…which seems to relate to how I knew things (and proved to be correct) when everyone else was always in denial, which has been mostly the theme of my entire lifetime since early childhood, always giving me a weird advantage in some ways but pure puzzlement in others (yet again remembering that “normal” people, especially the cop-out mentality when facing the unexplainable, always baffled me far more than the unexplained or so-called paranormal, now more than ever).

It dawns on me that the “mystery girl” may be in danger, though I do not feel threatened in any way, as I seem to be “invulnerable” in the setting for some reason I cannot quite focus on. The girl turns around and smiles at me but looks quite puzzled. She is wearing a black veil of sorts and a black dress. Some sort of unknown military character chops off my right hand with a sword, but being curious as to this unexpected affront, I look down and see my hand is floating in the air, attached to the end of my arm with a yellowish silk ribbon. It “spirals” back on, almost as if I was in a gravity-free environment for a very short time. There is no blood and it is slightly transparent. I am strongly reminded of M.C. Escher’s “Rind”.

This will not do. I feel I must take the girl and myself away from here. I go to get her and hold her to my front without resistance, attempting to lift her, and as I do, I lift both her and myself (with some sort of in-dream telekinesis) from the floor of the train, hovering in a fetal position. As such, I remain in place, passing through each train’s wall as it continues on until it is then beyond us on the track (and it keeps going). We then fly to a “familiar” location. It is familiar somehow in that it seems to be the “fictional realm” of an older dream from June 1972 which involved a deer’s “ghost” in an abandoned mansion, which was located in a forest fairly close to a truncated section of railroad tracks - therefore creating some sort of odd but “stronger” relationship between two sixteen-year-apart dreams - not that common of an event - though it is possibly loosely based on the old train at Copeland Park in La Crosse (as there have been several other more intense associations along this theme, including synchronicity with the “mystery girl”, such as the one where the Mississippi River lowers to reveal an old railroad, which becomes active again). There is a vivid sense of late autumn. Also, these supposed “barriers” between in-dream locations have often occurred before, almost as if each (fictional) dream location was part of a system of “bubbles” where you could go from one to another with some sort of particular focus or “portal”.

There is a unique perspective at this time. I figure that I can leave the girl here in this environment (until she “safely wakes” into her “real” location somewhere) because there is some sort of “barrier” between it and other facets from later dreams (oddly, even though I am not lucid as such). I also feel a bit odd about leaving her, though. In the back of my mind is the very early childhood association with seeing her in a tree in a park (on my family’s real-life trip from Wisconsin to Florida) and being threatened by wild hogs. Still, she has survived, although she was “older then” (which of course is faux “dream logic”).

Of course, there is more as there usually is. My wife had taken a train to get to school, and she had (when we first started writing) sent a photo of herself feeding a deer…

Morning of September 13, 1988. Tuesday.



I am in my L-shaped apartment in the King Street boarding house. An attractive but mysterious woman in black (including black lace and a hat) is riding a black horse. She rides from due south from Tenth Street and then northwesterly into the backyard. She is actually able to ride effortlessly vertically up the side of the house, over the south outer wall, to the right of my window (from my perspective), and likely (seemingly) somehow continues over the roof and northward. In some ways, this seemed “menacing” in implication (mostly regarding consensus, though), but there was no apparent threat, especially in afterthought.

Her overall appearance, being the seeming presence and essence of my usual “mystery girl”, but a bit older here, was the same as my wife-to-be. I would make real-life contact with her in 1991. The seeming implication here was that she was south of me (in Australia) and I would make first communication with her by mail from my sister’s house, which was on the north-side of La Crosse. (The King Street house was on the south-side of La Crosse.) The black horse is seen as the “future yet to be” or the “movement of mystery” coming into my life’s path. The black horse is loosely linked to the black swan theme (relating to Australia), perhaps, though black itself is simply the unknown or again, implying the “yet to be” or “things to come”.

This is a dream I had when I was about nine or ten years old. I have remembered most of this dream because it is still vivid in my memory even fifteen years after the fact. I believe it has great personal significance for me though I am not entirely sure in what ways. I am not sure what everything in the dream means as of yet.

The most significant aspect of this dream for me was the colours. Every colour was so luminous and vivid that it still blows my mind today. I have not since had a dream so poweful in regards to colour alone like this one was.


The dream took place on a pirate ship in the middle of an unknown sea under a brilliant red sunset. The ship was a "stereotypical" pirate ship, except the wood and metal parts of which it was made were all shades of purple. It did not look as if everything had been painted purple - rather the wood was naturally that colour, as were all bits of metal and fabric that could be seen.

The water of the ocean was a deep purple-ish black, where it did not reflect the light from the setting sun anyway. The sky was a bloody red, as was the sun, which was frozen in place just above the horizon. There was only a slight breeze and no waterspray around the ship, even though all the sails where unfurled and billowing like they were being hit with a strong gail. The ship was as frozen in place upon the water as the sun was hanging in the sky. The ocean rippled softly like any calm sea and I could move around the ship freely, as I (and other DCs) were unnaffected by the time freeze that locked the sun and ship into place.

The purple pirate ship seemed devoid of all life save for me, though my dream form looked nothing like me as I appear in waking life. I wore all bright red clothing and dark red cape and I had long flowing white hair and a red hat that had a big yellow feather in it.

Anyway, the dream starts off in the setting I just described with me on the ship's deck, wielding a long silver sword, fighting a dozen or so large flying monsters that kept swooping down on me. The creatures looked like a cross between a monkey and a fish (with bat-like wings)and they were a puke green colour, except for their huge black claws with which they slashed at me as they swooped down to attack.

I wasn't the greatest sword fighter and I had no shield, but somehow I cut a few of the monsters down. As the carcasses landed on the ship's deck they oozed a disgusting blackish fluid before burning up in a blue flame and dissapearing. The carcass dissapeared but the ooze remained and it made it harder to fight the flying monsters because I kept slipping on the stuff!

I cannot remember now how exactly I defeated the monsters but I think some flew away before I could kill them. I have always though it was interesting, though I do not know the significance, that during the entire fight I faced the bow (front) of the ship. At no time did I turn around to face the stern (back) of the ship, even when dodging or attacking, and neither did any of the monsters land on any part of the ship while they were alive. The creatures seemed to want to avoid making contact with the ship as much as they avoided my swinging sword.

When the last was dead (and the ones that escaped were out of sight) I took a moment to catch my breath (still facing the bow) and heard a soft laugh from behind me. I dropped my sword in surprise, turned around and there was a man with long black hair standing in the doorway that lead to the lower levels of the ship. He was very handsome, kind of pale and dressed in black velvet, Victorian style fashion. Up until this point I thought that I was alone on the ship.

Despite the man's vampire-like appearance I sensed no hostility from him and he just smiled at me. We did not speak to each other but there was a warm, friendly feeling eminating from him and all the worry and pain from my fight with the flying monsters was forgotten. I vividly remember the handsome man's green eyes, which sparkled like emeralds and made my heart skip. I only got to gaze at him briefly however because the dream ended there.

Morning of September 21, 1986. Sunday.



This is a shorter summary. My dream was much longer than it seems by this - but a lot of the time was mostly regarding some of the same visual aspects and conversations not quite recalled (seemingly in another language at times).

I am on an unknown island, probably near Indonesia. I have no clue to what island it is as it seems very small and isolated from the rest of the world. I am not quite sure if my companion and I had been in the past and are later in the present in my dream, or started out in the present and came back to the location in the future.

My male companion is somewhat like a composite of a Scotland Yard character and an archaeologist. He seems dressed mostly as a businessman at times. We find an isolated village that people said did not exist (supposedly being a legend). My dream is extraordinarily vivid but not lucid. We find a village where we make friends with three younger male characters. They have food served to us in mottled wooden bowels (I believe) and we become good friends. They are mostly spending time involved in rituals to do with fire and trying to call forth spirits.

Because my dream is more vivid, the atmosphere is very intense in the semidarkness. The floor is of dirt but there are grass mats in a few locations. The random flickers of the fire eerily light up the ceiling within the one-room building. I would guess their ages to only be around twenty or so.

We eventually leave the village and they seem somewhat sad. My companion and I go to a beach-like area. We seem to travel through time while just standing in one area near the ocean - into at least their future (but again, not sure if our future or our present). We go back to the hut and the same three men are there but seemingly ninety years old or more. They are still doing the same rituals in the smokey scene. They seem amazingly happy to see us and nod their heads lightly. A lot of emotion unfolds in this dream, a little more than many others of this time, and I had labelled it as a “breakthrough dream”. It colored my mood for about a week in a positive way, somehow.

I had this dream the evening (possibly into the next day) after reading a lot of other people’s dreams in a hardcover book. There was something on “breakthrough dreams” that connected with me somehow at the time. I do not remember the book title and did not write about the book itself. I have included the link for an older interesting but nearly 300-page PDF document that was based on some of what I read, though I do not agree with the work one-hundred percent by any stretch, especially now, but I used to really enjoy such works, mostly in the 1980s: http://elk.library.ubc.ca/handle/2429/26374

Morning of August 30, 1986. Saturday.



I am on the front roof (that goes out over the front porch) of my King Street apartment with an unknown dark-haired female (”mystery girl” who was literally and visually precognitive of my wife-to-be since early childhood) under a sheet. It seems to be late morning. Eventually, there is a strong wind and it pulls us into the air, with a very strange sensation moving through my body, similar to when I am “too close” to the edge of a roof or cliff in real life but the feeling is augmented. The “flight” and “fall” transforms into a natural waking mechanism though without the usual hypnic jerk.

Dreaming about anything related to a bed or sleep in most cases is just that, an obvious dream sign of the dream itself (and as is typical with any other native dream metaphor, with no “interpretation”), especially if the bed or bedding is in a different location than real life (though, even though it is very common, something I rarely catch in my own dreams as a possible trigger for lucidity, though this dream is very vivid). Being on a roof is also relative to a particular “band” of the dream state itself regarding a transitory state of consciousness (just on the threshold of the waking state). This is basically just a variation on the falling waking mechanism other than the visually precognitive reminder of my wife-to-be. Still, it is also a clever play on “magic carpet ride”, yet another flying symbol and analogous to the dream state itself. First and foremost, dreams are about dreaming and waking, instilled with precognitive and foreshadowing layers to prepare for what is to come (both immediate waking and potential elements yet to be). Wind relates to both the passage of time and long-term precognition.

Morning of June 2, 1986. Monday.

Dream #: 7,105-02. Reading time: 45 sec.



I am walking around in a strange, unfamiliar location that seems almost like Medieval times in some ways even though it is supposedly in the distant future. A boy I know, Scott R, is there and other people are nearby.

Eventually, when I look up, I see a gigantic spaceship making a tremendous mechanical noise as it “swims” through the sky. It is like a giant robotic tadpole, much larger than a 747, somehow staying up with no signs of wings, rotaries, or any other mechanisms. It has at least four sections that seem to counterbalance each side-to-side unit as its forms zigzag. It makes a tremendous amount of noise as it moves, possibly indicating rust and mechanical stress. I do not know what to think, but it causes a sense of awe and interest. Later, I float about above various stairwells in public areas.

Over time, while seemingly incorporeal, I have impressions of moving into people (coalescence) who are sitting near the bottom steps of flights of stairs. There is a wondrous essence of love. Everyone is smiling, but I do not think they are aware of me.

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This event from the 1980s was just one more experience that all but abolished my faith in human credibility (as to why most people remain in denial regarding the paranormal, which, as I have stated, I consider more bizarre than the paranormal itself - or perhaps “paranormal” is not the right word in this case as it covers many things regarding the “unexplained” - many people seemingly completely lack the ability to either accept or relate to it - which seems overly “wrong” somehow, especially at my age now).

In the morning of this day, I continue to have false awakenings from a few dreams and am focused on a section of the east wall of my King Street apartment when I lived in the smaller L-shaped room where the pinhead’s closet had a blocked-off doorway westerly to my room. There was a strange, shiny part of the wall whereby there were very odd shadowy figures I couldn’t quite account for. It gave the impression of both miniature demonic human-like forms and wayward fairies. The vividness of this perception was astounding. I couldn’t work out what I was looking at and later thought the dream was related to some sort of implied portal in the wall. Still, it created the impression of a reflection from somewhere else, and there was also a sort of reddish hue in some areas. The detail was quite precise and did not change in orientation. This was the only time to that point that I had such a vivid dream of focusing on the east wall and seeing the weird shiny seeming reflection from elsewhere. It almost reminded me of Hot Stuff the devil in an enchanted forest scene with a plane flying above.

That evening, in real life, I walked to the north-side of La Crosse. I stopped at sister Marilyn’s house. She wanted me to get something for her at the store, so I walked north, then west down Gillette Street. It was the night that the garbage was set out on the boulevards. I passed near a house a few houses east from the IGA store (“Skogen’s” at the time) and noticed an object sitting freely atop the garbage can on a smaller box. Looking at it, in the dark, I saw it was a Pink Floyd “The Wall” mirror, which I had never seen one of before. I decided to take it home, as it was in seeming good condition.

The next morning - you guessed it - the dream repeated - except it wasn’t a dream this time. I had absentmindedly placed the mirror on my desk near the south window whereby the reflection on the wall was identical to the precognitive dream of the day before. This really baffled me, even considering the thousands of similar experiences I had already had. It almost made me feel “dislocated in time”. Included here is the photo of the same mirror as what I had.

As usual, about paranormal dreams with validated follow-ups such as this, there are several layers, with at least one layer being almost like a “cosmic jester” at work. In this case, it was related directly to the wall in my apartment as well as the movie “The Wall” (that I hadn’t even seen). In addition to visually exact precognition (which couldn’t possibly be coincidental in any way), there was the additional feeling of remote-viewing, yet somehow “displaced” in time - yet another variation of the unexplained.

One more thing - I didn’t like the song “The Wall” at all (in fact disliked it quite a bit and often made fun of it), because they sang “We don’t need no education” - which implied that they did need education - because they were using a double negative…

Morning of March 10, 1986. Monday.



There is something found in a special small cardboard box covered with fabric, like the type some wristwatches are purchased in. It seems to have been hidden in an additional compartment inside. I seem to be a different character, seemingly a young version of Ray Milland, also having his voice when I speak, this being before or during his death in reality, though I had not seen any of his movies for some time. This seems important, as although my dream does not precisely reflect the plot of any movie he was in, it does have similarities and some of the same mood throughout to the movie “X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes” from 1963.

The box contains a special lens. It allows the person who looks through it to “see forever” and has different ways of displaying and revealing the otherwise unseen, not always consistent.

As the other character, I become addicted to this new way of viewing the world. Over time, my eye begins to bleed. I have similar opportunities as “X” (from the Ray Milland movie) in seeing through things, as well as having the telescopic perspective. At one point, I hear a seemingly ominous line from my character that goes, “when I look through the lens of evil, I can see myself looking back” and this seems to be the case. I look through the lens, and in the supposed far distance, is a scene of me sitting on a bed and looking back at me through the same lens, like some sort of distant mirror-like reflection. This seems to be some sort of extreme point, where the lens is now functioning in a different way.

In reality of course, because the world is a sphere, seeing everything on the planet would not be possible and would be cut off at the horizon (more so, there would be no potential for a distant mirror-like reflection). The lens seems to bend light in a way where you can see all the way around the planet and back in either perspective. (There is also a point earlier where I see myself looking through the lens, but from the back. This was an influence from a scene of the same concept from the original “Land of the Lost” television series.) I can also see into distant space, infinitely.

Eventually, my eyes become larger and bleed more, being very bloodshot, though one eye is much worse, implying some sort of side effect, as I use it more for the lens. Over time, I grow scales on my arms and legs and eventually gills on my neck. In my dream’s last scene, I become a mooneye fish and do one last vertical leap from the water’s surface. The fish’s eye is also bleeding, seen from a distance, followed by a dramatic zooming in as if from a movie.

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Ray Milland died on this tenth of March, after my dream. Additionally, my mother developed a severe eye infection where one eye looked extremely bloodshot (and she had never had such an infection before). Because I wrote this dream out as a short story after I woke, it later seemed very strange for my mother to read it when one of the lines read “the eye looked awful”, followed by other related details. I felt embarrassingly inconsiderate (though I had written it out prior to her condition). Additionally, I had caught a mooneye fish later, which is a type of fish I rarely ever caught.

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