non-lucid

This dream starts off in my hometown of London, Ontario. I am on the way from my parent's house to my new apartment on Adelaide Street. For some reason I am in the country side west of the city. An unnumbered city bus comes along and I get on, but I cannot find my transfer. I can find transfers from several days before, but not the one for today. Only after going through ever pocket on my person do I find today's transfer crumpled up in my left hand. The bus driver sighs with impatience as I hurridly take a seat, red faced from embarrassment but relieved. Despite being out in the country side, but bus is packed and everyone on board seems scruffy or rugged, like they have been camping outdoors for a long time. They are all men and seem to be all staring at me and I feel a bit creeped out and threatened.

The bus drives into the city, to the edge of downtown then suddenly stops. The driver tells all of the passengers to get off and promplty drives away as soon as we have done so. I walk down the main road, Dundas Street, for a while before deciding to wait at a bus terminal in front of a white multi-storey building that I do not recognize from waking life. I am expecting the Dundas bus to come along, but after a short wait, the Adelaide Street bus shows up instead. Though I am confused as to why it is the Adelaide and not the Dundas, I happily board the bus, hoping it will take me straight to my apartment.

The bus pulls away from the terminal and passes a group of asian men standing in the middle of the street, waving various melee weapons around and shouting loudly. I cannot hear what they are saying, but the majority of the noise comes from a man wearing a blue hooded sweater over a white t-shirt. He is waving a hunk of wood around and seems to be directing his anger at random pedestrians on the street. I feel the atmosphere change and everything seems suddenly darker, eeiry and inexplicably desolate. The bus suddenly slows down and stops. A burned out pickup truck, and a pile of damaged cars, is blocking the road and there is no way around. The bus driver manages to turn the bus around and starts heading back to the bus terminal.

As we pass the group of angry asian men, the one in the blue sweater, waving the hunk of wood, pulls out a pistol from his waistline and opens fire on a group of people who have gathered by the side of the road to watch the commotion. The first shot hits a woman holding a baby and the crowd panics and scatters as she goes down. As the man begins randomly firing at the running people, the other men in his group start attacking people with their melee weapons. The bus driver floors the gas pedal and tries to drive away from the ensuing chaos, but a large military truck pulls directly infront of us and forces the bus to stop. The doors are opened and the passengers make a run for it. I run towards the white multi-storey building, with the intention of hiding in it or behind it, but asian men in military uniforms start appearing between and around the buildings. At first I mistaken them for London's Area Support Unit, but it becomes apparent very quickly that these military personnel are foriegn and hostile. I run towards central downtown but it seems that the entire area is surrounded by this mysterious invading army of asian origin.

Many people are captured, myself included, and forced to sit together in large groups with hands behind heads. People who do not comply, or who try to escape, are shot on sight. When the street is overcrowded with captured prisioners, the armed guards start herding us into the large white multi-storey building by the bus terminal. The inside is decorated in bright red fabrics and paints and seems to be a giant theater of some sort. The ceiling is open for several storeys up and the parameter of each floor seems to be made up of box seats, except for the ground floor, which is bare tile like a gymnasium. The prisoners are forced to sit on the floor and face a large screen on the west wall. The military men start playing some sort of propaganda film about their greatness or their great leader or something, but I cannot follow it because it is not in english and I am being distracted by several fat white male prisioners who insistantly try to stand up and show their private parts to the rest of the captives. Their penises are very small or severely deformed but I am finding great amusement in their last acts of bravado, as it seems to really piss off the armed guards.

I suddenly notice an unguarded electrical socket to my right. I descreetly pull the plug and hope that I am shot quickly if I am caught. I have no idea what pulling the pull will do and I am surprised when not only does the propaganda film end, but the electricity to the entire building goes out. The invading asians go into a frenzy trying to maintain control of the prisioners while trying to sort out what is going on. Some captives manage to sneak out in the darkness, while others are caught and executed, but the majority stays put in fear and confusion. Whe the emergency lights come on, the invading army is still a bit frenzied and there is a commotion outside. A man I assume is a commander of the army comes in and motions half of the armed guards to follow him outside.


I cannot remember anymore of this dream.

This dream takes place in a fair sized mansion. The occupants of the mansion are a brown haired husband and his rich blond haired wife. The have a dark haired Latino maid who lives with them and cleans the house while they are at work. The wife is a snob and treats her husband and maid with contempt. The husband is not rich and works in a humble car mechanics shop, to his rich wife's dismay. The entire dream takes place from the third person perspective.


One morning the maid on the second floor of the mansion doing some chores when she hears "I want him dead!" come from the wife's room. Curious, the maid leans her ear against the door and eavsdrops. Some of the words are muffled but the maid is sure that she hears the wife complaining about her "dead beat husband" and how the quickest way "to get rid of him" would be. The phone conversation ends and the maid panics and rushes back to her cleaning duties but she is nervous over what she heard and her hands shake. The wife exits her room and stops suddenly, to glare at the nervous maid for a moments before hastily making an exit from the mansion.

The maid goes to the man's work place, a back alley car mechanic shop, and tries to tell him what she overhead and believes that his wife is going to try and kill him. The man disregards what the maid is trying to tell him, saying that while he and his wife do have their differences, he does not believe that she would try to kill him. The maid protests but the man tells her to go back to the mansion and not to worry about it.

The maid is ruminating about the situation while she cleans the mansion when suddenly the wife shows up in the middle of the day with several plastic bags in hand. The maid asks the wife why she is not at work and the wife curtly responds with "I went shopping." The wife and the maid do not look at each other directly and the maid pretends to not notice what the wife is doing, even as the wife empties the shopping bags and throws them down on the kitchen table. She puts away a few groceries and then carries a large white box up to her room. The wife returns empty handed, gets quickly gets back into her car and leaves.

The maid picks up the seemingly empty shopping bags to put them away when a small crumpled piece of paper falls out of one. When it is uncrumpled, it turns out to be a hand written receipt for twelve hand guns. The wife's signature is below the amount paid for the weapons. There is a crudely drawn sketch of one of the guns in the middle of the document. The monetary amount and names are written in a red ink, while the sketch of the gun is in black ink.

The maid leaves the mansion and goes back to the man's work place, shows him the gun reciept and asks in a demanding voice "So what do you make of this??" The man just shrugs and says nothing, though the expression on his face seems to be a mix of concern and worry.

The dream starts off with me walking down a road, clasping a beige canvas bag tightly to my chest. It feels as if there are books or stacks of paper in the bag. I am about 12 years old and wearing a light blue sweater over a white shirt, a grey skirt, and black dress shoes. I know that I am on my way to my art teacher's house but the neighbourhood I am walking through is unfamiliar and I do not recognize it as any place I know in waking life. The sky is clear and the air light, but there are no people on the streets and I do not see any cars on the road.

I walk past a small house that has an open window on the ground floor. Through the window I can see a television set and there is a local news station reporting the death of a man named Robbie Ritchie. A photograph of the man is displayed and he has dark brown hair and eyes, is slightly tanned and has a stubbly chin. The dead man seems vaguely familiar. I continue walking for a few blocks more until I come to my art teacher's house and brush lucidity with the thought that it looks nothing like her house in waking life (I do not become lucid however). It is a three story townhouse with blue wood panelling and an enclosed garage (with dark brown paneling) to one side.

As I approach the cement stairs that lead up to the front door, a man who is crying comes rushing out of the apartment and quickly turns towards the garage and disappears inside. The man looks exactly like the dead man on t.v except that he has sandy blond hair and is clean shaven. I walk up the stairs and into the apartment. My art teacher, Ms. V, looks exactly as she currently appears in walking life. There is a young, thin, blond woman sitting at the same table. I do not recognize her as anyone I know. The young woman appears to be about 16 or 17 years old and is wearing a white sweater over a light blue shirt and a long black skirt. Ms. V and Blondie are sitting at a white table doing arts and crafts. The white table intersects another table that contains a pile of towels and more craft supplies. Blondie is knitting something with dark blue yarn and Ms. V is sorting bits and peices of fabric into several small bins.

I put my canvas bag down on a clear space on the long white table and ask Ms. V who the man rushing out of her apartment is. She says that his name is Sean before turning her full attention back to sorting. I then ask her if she knows anyone by the name of Robbie Ritchie. Ms. V continues to sort the fabric bits and gives me a peculiar stare, but says nothing. The young blond woman says that Sean is Robbie's younger brother and is upset because he just found out about Robbie's death. I heard what the young blond girl said, but I did not respond. I do not know exactly what, but there was something about the blond girl that annoyed me and I wanted nothing to do with her.

I started looking over the many art and craft supplies on the tables when Ms. V rose suddenly and started to leave. She said something about talking to Sean before she disappeared out the front door. I was not thrilled at being left alone with the blond girl whom I did not know and did not like. She started talking to me about something and for the most part I pretended to listen and did not respond beyond nodding my head at irregular intervals, so I cannot remember now what she said. I am sure that it was nothing important anyway.

I needed a cloth for something and started looking through the pile of towels on the far table for one. I mistook the dishtowel on the top as a cloth and was confused when I picked it up and discovered what it really was. I cannot remember now why I wanted a cloth, but I do recall becoming very frantic because I could not find one.


The dream ends there. I do not know anyone named Robbie (or Sean) Ritchie and I do not know what the significance of learning about his death in my dream is.

I am in an undergroud museum of some sort. I am thinner, taller and paler looking than I am in waking life. Actually, I think my character looks a lot like Robin the Witch except I have shoulder length hair that is not tied up. There is a pair of black sunglasses that I am wearing at the beginning of the dream, but they disappear at some point. I can only remember this dream in fragments:


- badly lit, underground passage made of stone.
- display cases that look like overgrown court yards and open up the the sun above. (Most of the light comes from these)
- a stone hearth with a lever in front of it
- secret elevator behind hearth
- elevator goes up to an indoor, goth themed waterslide park?
- only one waterslide in middle of room. I climb to top to see what looks like, but am forced to go down.
- slide takes me all the way back down to underground passage
- use hidden hearth elevator again
- go back to top of waterslide, get into argument with young woman who wants to go down first since there is no one else on the slide. I concede after a while.
- something about finding another secret of the place?

This dream I had was long but because I did not write it down when I awoke I have forgotten most of it. The part that I do remember took place somewhere in between the middle and the end.


A lean, young man with frizzy brown hair and I are in a small hotel room. The door is to my right, the bed in front of me and a narrow window to my left. There is a wooden nightstand with a small white lamp on one side of the bed but other than that the room is empty. The translucent sheer curtains of the window are pulled back and tied in a knot to keep them open. The carpet is a garish lime green and the bed's duvet is a dark green with pale yellow sheets underneath. Everything appears clean and orderly.

The young man is not someone I recognize from waking life and for some reason we are standing near the window having an argument. I cannot remember what the argument was about but I turn my back on him out of frustration. Before I can go anywhere the guy pulls a gun out of his pants, grabs me in a headlock with his right arm and holds the gun the my left temple. He screams and spits in my ear (but I cannot remember about what) and I am too startled to move. He stops yelling for a moment and his grasp slackens just enough that I can squirm out of the headlock. The young man does not make any attempt to stop me from doing so and lowers his weapon. He silently stares out of the window and I stare at him for a while.

I make a move to leave but the young man turns around and points the gun at me again, saying that I "can never leave". I was not afraid that he was going to shoot me, rather that he was going to hurt himself in some way. I sat down on the end of the bed and asked him to give me the gun, which he had again lowered to his side. He shakes his head, refuses to hand it over, leans against the window frame, crosses his arms and stares at the carpet. For a while the young man does not talk to me or even look at me and I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling frustrated and bored.

The young man suddenly begins pacing back and forth in front of the window, waving the gun around wildly and yelling at the top of his lungs about whatever is upsetting him. Since he does not address me or look at me as he rages I think for a moment that he has forgotten about my presence. I contemplate making a break for the door but the desire to take the guy's gun is stronger than wanting to leave for some reason. I edge myself to the end of the bed, closest to the window, and watch the young man's movements carefully.

I stand up slowly and ask him if there is anything I can do for him. He does not answer but he stops yelling and waving the gun but continues to pace back and forth. His eyes are opened wide and he sweating. When I see my chance I grab his left wrist (of which hand is holding the gun) with my left hand and pin it against the wall with all my bodyweight. The young man could have easily punched me or grabbed me in a headlock with his free hand, but he does not. Instead he uses his right hand to grab the wrist of my left hand (that has his left hand pinned) and tries to pull himself free of my grasp.

Wrapping my right hand around the barrel of the gun I succeed in wiggling it from his grasp when I dig the nails of my left hand as hard as I can into his wrist. The guy backs off to the far corner of the room, crosses his arms protectively across his chest and sulks. I toss the gun on the bed and leave the hotel room. The young man does not try to come after me.

Morning of September 29, 2007. Saturday.



I am living in a ghetto, in, I believe, an old apartment building on what seems like at least the third or fourth floor or higher. Actually, I am not sure if I live there or not since I do not recognize anything or seem to know a couple people I may or may not be living with. They do not even seem all that aware of me. Mostly, they remain in the kitchen and I mostly stay in the living room area.

The main focus is on the television near the front door, of which something rather strange is happening to it. There are what seem to be holes and cracks in the glass, but which, oddly, actually seem to seal up as others appear elsewhere. There is some sort of concept that seems difficult to relate, like the glass is some sort of link between two different dimensions; “mine”, and other worlds beyond, but which are perhaps random, or changing, and varying in potential, growing stronger, or growing weaker (at random?).

I am somewhat wary; not really afraid; just suspicious of what could result. Some sort of ugly face forms in parts like a jigsaw puzzle (sort of like bits of static forming into three-dimensional solids from more random pieces) automatically sorting itself out over the imagery of an unrelated television show. Out comes some sort of monster, vampire-like (but not a typical “movie vampire”), and mostly colorless. Now I am somewhat concerned, as the creature screams (seemingly in anger at being disturbed?), but I am still not afraid.

Time passes. The creature actually seems afraid to go very far after seeing the city outside the window (it is late at night). He cowers on a sofa and eventually seems to be annoyed by this world and eventually breaks up into bits of “static” (like squarish moths with reflective wings) which flows back into the television. Even though he is like a powerful demon or devil, mankind seems far worse to him than his own essence, and the “monster” is more and more like a sad comic strip character before he goes back to wherever he came from.

Later, there is more activity across the glass of this strange television. I see eyes again, but this time it is a beautiful girl in some sort of dark green Robin-Hood-like outfit (but with more variety in color and ornamentation) that very slowly emerges, head first. She has a bow and a set of arrows and seems to be some sort of elf-like creature and “at one” with the powers of nature but somehow more powerful (both physically and mentally) than any human on Earth - because of that supposed direct link to the forces of nature. I do not think she can “control” nature, but remain in some sort of perfect “frequency” (harmony) with the energy as a whole. I do not think she can speak English or understand it, although she seems to be linked to me somehow (perhaps a more fanciful version of my wife). She seems to reflect more of a sense of personal power than the earlier “monster”, almost as if I subliminally created both but which were “incubated” in this other dimension behind the glass of the television. My dream eventually breaks up into less vivid patterns that I cannot quite remember other than a feeling of deep respect and understanding for beings that “incubate” within the energy of the television somehow, which seems to represent features of the Source (or other levels of consciousness) in this case rather than real-life television, which I do not respect at all. (Of course, the television itself likely represents the dreaming process in indirectly utilizing other levels of mind and perhaps collective consciousness.)

The female elf-like and Robin-Hood-like character is a seemingly neutral character that has sparsely recurred in my dreams since around age sixteen.

I had this short dream after worrying all day that I missed an appointment with my therapist.


I dreamed I was at my therapists office. I was sitting in my usual chair across from her desk, but for some reason I was wearing a pink sweater that belongs to my mother and I had a purse that looked exactly like hers, only it was a reddish brown instead of black.

My therapist was at her computer typing something out. She turned to me and asked if I had "called them yet," to which I replied "yes," even though I was not sure who 'they' were. My therapist lowered her head and said "Then I'm sorry, we cannot help you anymore," and she informed me that my sessions with that particular counseling service were over and my file would be destroyed.

I walked out of her office and down the stairs to the lobby, but it looked decriped and the windows were boarded up. The front door had a large chain around it, preventing anyone from opening it. The electricity was on, but I could not see anyone around or any exit that wasn't closed up and I did not know how I was going to get out of there. I felt very cold.

The dream I had last night took place in an abandoned church. The building was made of stone, which was badly worn by weather, and had many places where the roof had collapsed or a peice of wall had fallen in. The layout of the place consisted of one floor with a staircase that led up to a platform above the altar in one corner of the building. Even though it was daylight outside, the inside of the church was very dark.

I was walking with my mom and dad and a few other people I do not recognize down a dirt road in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. The sky overcast and grey, but bright. When we came upon the abandoned church, my dad wanted to go inside and take some pictures with his digital camera. I felt something "evil" about the place but for some reason I was compelled to follow him in. Everyone went inside except for my mom, who waited outside.

As soon as I walked into the abandoned church I knew it was a bad idea. The darkness that filled the place was not natural and seemed to be filled with ghosts or monsters or whatever unseen malacious entities would lurk in the dark places of an abandoned church. The invisible beings seemed to use the darkness as a cover. These creatures began pulling at my clothes and hair as soon as I crossed the threshold but my dad nor the other people seemed to notice anything.

At one point the invisible monsters grabbed my ankles and left arm and lifted me in the air above my father. He did seem to notice at all, even when I was lifted near the roof, and I found myself unable to scream. I struggled wildly but could not free myself from the invisible hands that held me. I remember feeling more angry then scared and gritted my teeth and sort of half-snarled at the darkness. I don't remember how I got out of there but the end of the dream had everyone walking away from the abandoned church as I lagged behind. I looked over my shoulder and saw many pairs of glowing red eyes looking out at me from the darkness.

Morning of September 20, 2007. Thursday.



This entry contains two of several dreams of this date.

My most recent “Lost” dream has something to do with robots, mostly all female scientist robots. There is one scene where one is working in a lab, but does not have a human face, only a curved sheet of metal. Others do not even have that, but do have a “head” of sorts. There are some unusual encounters where I mostly interact with a couple female robots at a time, mostly touching “hands”, perhaps testing the sensors, yet they do not have any skin, either; all the working parts are mostly showing and turning about, similar to a skeleton with bits of wire and small gears here and there - yet somehow, there actually seems to be some sort of potential for these robots to have human feelings (both emotional and tactile).

Another dream involved an idea of an ancient spacecraft being buried somewhere and a man hunting for it in relation to a symbol. The appearance of the spacecraft supposedly has something to do with the apocalypse (which primarily foreshadows the end of the dream and little else). He had seen it before and had drawn a picture of it. Another man joins him in looking for it in the area which it has been determined to be. This is a hill (common emergent consciousness feature) near a small town. The spaceship rises from the ground while the men are standing in an area nearby. It is very similar in design to an old-style orange juicer. It glows a brilliant white and makes a loud but somehow musical roaring sound. This dream is very vivid and seems to mean something even after I wake for a short time (and of course it does have meaning - that I am waking up). I cannot be sure if it is being flown by beings inside or is some sort of glowing energy that shifts slightly. There is a very intense feeling as it roars off.

My first dream above is simply a rendering of robots in connection to the “artificial” nature of the dream state, that is, as different from reality. It is similar to a glitched-out apex lucidity dream but this dream is entirely non-lucid.

My second dream here (which is similar to, and with the same meaning as, “Spaceship Stratum” from 1978) is simply an extended waking transition metaphor as most dreams are on one level. A UFO is typically the conscious mind, rendered as a UFO for several reasons; one, the unconscious mind as the dream self is not seeing directly through the conscious self’s eyes so renders it as potentially “alien”, and two, a UFO is usually “above” the unconscious self and so represents “rising” (waking up) conscious awareness (though cleverly here is rendered as being within the unconscious self’s “territory”, that is, buried in the ground at first, which implies cooperation between the dream self and conscious self with no liminal space inherent), and three, emits light and represents waking from the dream state (light of day as metaphorical for waking consciousness), and four, is a flight symbol (main dream state metaphor as dreaming itself is “flying”) leaving the dream.

I can add a three-layered fifth validation here with this particular dream. This UFO looks like an orange juicer. An orange can represent the conscious mind (in reference to associations with the sun - which represents light of day and the conscious mind and wakeful awareness, most especially the “Sunkist” label). Also, when people wake up to have breakfast, they often have orange juice. Since the potential with an orange juicer is to watch liquid getting lower and going down into a glass or other container, we also even have the “water getting lower over time” as the waking mechanism (except that here, it is orange juice).

Or, I could go on and list many other layers and metaphors that validate the above meanings; for example the play on “Sunkist” as in “kissed” relating to Sleeping Beauty being awakened. Or, I could stop here.

Morning of September 6, 2007. Thursday.



The first part of this dream concerns columns (under the foundation) of a newer high school - it seems as if it might be the one at Kepnock, though the building in my dream is completely different at ground level. There is a discovery of human bones inside the columns (almost as if there had been an implied archaeological interest), and there is concern over how this could have happened. However, there is this very clear feeling that the new school, for some reason in my dream only, was apparently built in also somehow involving the death of certain families or teenagers and the government “covering it up” (no pun intended) - an idea of which was possibly borrowed by the low-rated movie “The Haunting” from 1999.

Later on, though, the original columns seem more ancient and seem to be part of some sort of ancient plumbing system in which water and debris is “backing up” into the building, which draws in more archaeologists and such. There is something eerie about the entire affair. There are sets of columns that read something like “ITSBE”. There also seems to be some sort of religious awareness (early Christian Italy, or some such) but I am not quite sure or focused enough to determine what it is.

A little later, when I am awake, my wife tells me that the drainage system has been overflowing and that water keeps coming back out, which is the first time this has happened at this address, the problem being relative to street level access, so this was a precognitive layer.

#1) First dream takes place in some sort of aquarium museum place and I am there with my parents. Even though most of the displays are situated indoors, my parents and I are dressed in winter clothing. I cannot remember anything about the beginning of the dream but I thought the end was significant though I do not know why.

As my parents and I were leaving the aquarium we stepped outside into some sort of courtyard. There was a waist-deep, square-shaped pool in the center and it had four square styrofoam floating things in it. The styrofoam things wear painted to look like rocks and had a elaborate "V" design carved into the very tops. There was a fat old man wearing a bright yellow waterproof rain pants and a white A-shirt standing near the far edge of the pool. He had a long, narrow black stick in his hand and seemed to be looking for something underneath the water.

I approached the edge of the pool and saw a young seal hidding underneath one of the floating styrofoam rocks. The seal would surface for a moment and look around, then use its teeth to pull off guaze bandages from its body, before quickly swimming back underneath the styrofoam. My parents didn't seem to notice and kept walking. I tried to ask the old man about the seal but he ignored me and kept scouring the water for whatever he was looking for, which I assumed was the seal. I watched the young seal surface and pull of some more bandages before the dream ended and I woke up.


#2) The second dream takes place at Lake Whittaker, a trailer park where my parents go every weekend in the summer. The dream seems to take place a few years ago when my parent's trailer was situated at the top of the hill by the lake side. I remember stepping out of the trailer and looking to my right. There is garbage and debris spread across the neighbouring trailer's lot. People I don't recognize from waking like are standing around looking at the mess. Even though it appears to be summer, everyone is wearing winter clothes. I walk up to the nearest person and ask where the mess came from. He says "It was a bear."

I think that is odd because bears are not native to the area. I go back into my parent's trailer for something and even though I am only inside for a few seconds, when I go back outside, the mess on the neighbouring lot has been cleaned up and the people who had gathered are dispersing. There is a bit more I think, about trying to find someone who will help me find the alleged bear or something, but I cannot remember now.

There is an old farmhouse and barn in front of me. I can see an older couple working in field out back. I am not sure which, but the couple is either just really old fashioned pioneers or menonites. There is a doorless shed by the east side of the house and I wandered into it. Along with an assortment of old fashioned farming implements, homemade brooms line the far wall. I ask the old mennonite man if I can buy one when he comes over to see what I am doing tresspassing in his shed. Instead I am hired (or forced?) to become a live-in-maid to keep the farmhouse clean.

The mennonite couple disappear and a new couple appear as owners of the farmhouse. They are still older, but they look like they come from the Victorian era. I cannot think of anyone whom the lady of the house (the Mistress) looks like, but the man of the house (the Master) looked very much like Christopher Walken. The outside of the farmhouse looked the same, as did the barn, but the doorless shed disappeared and a long covered porch now wrapped itself around the east side of the house.

The inside of the house was still mainly Victorian/Edwardian era but seemed to have some seemingly out-of-place modernizations scattered randomly about. Though the house wasn't all that large, there was another maid who lived there as well. We usually worked together and while I was relatively pragmatic, the other maid was extremely superstitious and constantly tried to convince me that every creak, or misplaced object, was caused by ghosts. I did not believe in the ghosts theory and tired to argue that the house was old and prone to creaking and that objects get misplaced all the time, but the other maid would have none of it.

The other maid and I were asked to clean out the sothern rooms of the farmhouse because the Master wanted to convert them into a variety store. It was at this time that I started to see unusal things happen, like curtains move when there was no breeze, electrical cords pull themselves from the wall, and doors open and close by themselves. In the main hall, drops of blood fell from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. No matter how many times the other maid and I cleaned up the blood, it always reappeared the next day. Most frustrating was the fact that the Master and Mistress of the house never experienced anything strange, nor saw the blood, and would dismiss our complaints as nonsense.

I was now convinced that the house was haunted afterall, but was still not all that creeped out until the drops of blood from the ceiling became bloody bootprints that appeared decending the stairs and entering the southern rooms. At one point I was cleaning something in the main hall and heard footfalls on the stairs. I turned and saw not the Master as I was expecting, but the bloody bootprints. I quickly tried to duck into one of the adjacent rooms, but the double glass doors either locked of their own accord or jammed. I quickly spun around so that my back was pressed up against the glass doors and the lights in the hall began flickering. The temperature in the room dropped dramatically and I could see my breath. I was frozen in terror as I watched the bloody bootprints slowly and ominously stomp towards me. I cowered and shut my eyes, but just before they reached me, the sound of the footfalls disappeared, the room temperature returned to normal, and the lights stopped flickering. The glass doors behind me swung open and I made a hasty exit from the main hall and ran into the other maid, who saw everything from the other side of the glass doors.

Not only did the other maid quit after that but the bloody bootprints following me around the house became a common occurance. While it did take me a while to get used to, I eventually figured out that if I made no attempt to run from the ghostly follower, or try to clean up the bloody mess, the ghost would soon leave and the bloody mess would eventually disappear on its own.

I was standing in the southern room at one point, brainstorming ideas for the variety store, when I was summoned by the Master. I went to his private study in the north end of the house and when I got there, he lectured me on how no women in his household should leave the premises without a male escort. I realized at this time that I had never so much as stepped out onto the porch in all my time of working there as a maid, let alone leave the property. I got angry and shouted "There is my escort!" I pointed to the bloody bootprints that followed me into the room and the Master finally sees them for the first time, but says nothing.

Almost immediately after the lecture, I began to see ghosts in and around the farmhouse. The first is a little boy in a blue coat and white shorts, playing with an orange ball, near the pond at the front of the house. One Sunday I am sitting with the Master and Mistress and their guests when I get up and go into the kitchen for something. When I return, there is an old man sitting in my seat. He looks exactly like the character Oscar Leroy from the show Corner Gas (baseball cap and all). I recognize him as a friend of the family in the dream and he starts telling me about how it is his birthday. I realize that the old man is a ghost and I exclaim outloud to the Master and Mistress that their friend is dead, but everyone in the room just looks at me like I am crazy. Some get angry because they think I am being disrespectful since they know that man I am talking about and that it is his birthday.

I beg the Master to call the family of their friend but they wil not. The ghost of the old man gets up and asks me to follow him outside into the front yard. I do so, and the family and their guests follow me to see what I am up to, though I suspect it is just to observe me because they think I have lost my mind. The ghost of the old man tells me about how he died peacefully in his sleep, and as a hearse drives by in the distance, he points to the completed variety store at the southern end of the house and to says "Never stop writing down your ideas." The ghost then fades away. I walk over to the pond (though it looks more like a muddy pit at this moment) and stare quietly into the murky water. The Master comes over to me and finally says that he will get someone to call the family of his friend, to confirm his condition, because no one else yet believes that the old man is dead.

The Mistress runs out of the house and proclaims that their friend is dead and that it was self-inflicted. While everyone reacts to the news of their friend's suicide, I walk away saying "He lied to me!" (about how the old man said he died). Later, the Master, Mistress and guests are sitting around talking about how strange it was that someone would want to kill themselves on their birthday, but no one seems particularily upset at the loss of thier friend. I am disturbed and upset at their apparent apathy.


The dream ends there.

The birthday-suicide thing is something that I had been ruminating about for a few days because I struggle with suicidal ideation as a result of clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

I'm at home and it is night time. All the lights are out and I am in the kitchen standing by the front door in my night clothes. I can hear people walking around the house and I am sure they are going to try and break-in. I am scared because I am home alone. A flashlight beam shines in the kitchen window and I hide in the hall space between the front door and garage door. When the flashlight beam disappears, I quickly glance around the hall wall and look out the kitchen window. I cannot see the intruders, but I hear their footfalls going around the house towards the back. In the front yard I can see a white Aveo. The vehicle is nowhere near the driveway and has been backed up onto the lawn and almost into the garden. Though it is dark, I can see that the car has torn up the lawn pretty badly and there are deep mud tracks gouged into the grass.

I turn my attention to the backdoor and dash through the house to make sure it is locked. I can hear the intruders walk up onto the wooded porch and approach the door. I crouch down as far as I can and hope that they will not see me with their flashlight beam. The door handle rattles once and my body tenses and my adrenaline rushes. I feel light-headed and like I have butterflies in my stomach. The intruders slowly walk off the porch and I can hear them head back towards the front of the house. I run as fast as I can to the front hall and go into the garage. There is a crowbar on the seat of my dad's boat and I grab it for protection. I go back into the kitchen hall and wait for the intruder's next move, but I can no longer hear their movements. I am afraid that they may have heard me open the garage door and are planning to attack me.

Dream fragmented, I can't remember much.


- can't remember any of the the beginning, but it was lengthy.

- driving in Mercedes on parkway outside of city with with mom and dad.

- dad turns off road and onto elevated monorail/train track.

- real train coming. We get out of car and mom and dad go down to ground.

- I pick up the two tonne Mercedes by the bumper and hand it down to my dad! It's as light as a feather, though in the dream my thought was that it was "light as a wicker basket."

- mom and dad disappear when I get down to ground. I am now in some sort of sidewalk market. The streets are empty until four Native American people appear, surrounding me.

- greeting/bowing ritual with four natives. I think there were two Innuit and two Ojibway. Ritual consists of me standing between the two Innuit, linked arm in arm, and bowing down on my knees to the Ojibway. Repeat same bow a second time only linked arms with Ojibway and bowing on knees to Innuit.

There are two shop keepers (a husband and wife) who seem really creepy and insist I view their wares. They hover over me at all times and are very intrusive. Their shop is outdoors and consists of only two large bookshelves loaded with vhs tapes, dvds, and many different versions of the Bible. The couple will not let me leave until I buy something. Because I cannot see anything I am interested in, I try to stall by picking up some chinese sweet and sour chicken balls which are sitting by a coffee maker on a little table betweeb the bookshelves.

The shop keepers get upset that I am eating chinese food because it is "not very christian of me." I tell them that I am not a christian and they get extremely angry, but just then other customers arrive and start browsing around, taking the shopkeeper's attention off of me. I look through the dvds hoping to find something interesting and notice that almost all of them are in foriegn languages. I eventually find a nature documentary in english on tigers (my favourite animal) and hastily make a retreat from the little outdoor shop. It is not until I am quite far away from there that I realize I did not pay for the dvd, which I find amusing.

I cross a large field until I come to a road. I follow the road and it leads into a temperate forest. I walk for a long time until I see a large big box department store in the middle of the forest and go in. The place is huge but I do not see anyone around. I walked past the eletronics section and picked up a set of headphones that has a super long cord. I put the headphones on and have the overwhelming desire to plug them in. I feel that I cannot leave the big box department store until I do so.

I came across a large stereo system and try to plug the headphones in, but I cannot find the outlet. An eletronics department attendant suddenly shows up and plugs them in for me. I walk away from there, even though the headphones are still plugged in, and head towards the exit. The cord is long enough to let me make it to the other side of the store. When I exit the place, I discard the headphones and cross the small parking lot to a large highway that leads out of the forest. There are no people or cars anywhere in sight.

I follow the highway for a long while before it dissapears around a large hill. I do not follow the road anymore and walk straight up the hill. There is another hill beyond a small plateau and I can see some sort of walkway or bridge at the entrence of some sort of park. The bridge looks as if it is made of bronze and has art nouveau designs all over it. I walk under the bridge and see that the park ahead of me is some sort of zoo or animal sanctuary. I turn around and see that the bridge has disappeared. The hills are gone as well and it seems that I am on an island as all I can see is water behind me.

The animals of the park are not in cages and roam around freely like the people. I am afraid that I am going to see someone get mauled, but the animals are content to ignore the humans as long as no one bothers them. I see another hill and walk towards it (I am constantly going "up" in this dream). A white male lion chases a yellow male lion down the hill towards me. Just as I fear that I am going to get run down, the yellow lion turns suddenly. The white lion barely misses me as it attempt the same turn to keep up with his target. I lose sight of the lions behind some trees. I realize that there seems to be no more people or animals around and I feel like I am alone on the island.

Suddenly, a huge anthropormorphic rhino wielding an axe, appears out of nowhere and starts chasing me. Despite its large size it is incredibly fast and I have no time to think about what to do other then run. Because I am not fast enough, and I tire quickly, the giant rhino quickly runs me down and I get an axe in the back. I die but I don't die. A reset screen appears infront of me, like a videogame, and I am given the choice of choosing a new character, or continuing as myself. The two other character choices are large muscular men in loincloths. After a brief WTF?! moment on my part, I select "myself" and get ready to run again. I am placed back at the part where the rhino appears out of nowhere and I automatically turn and start running. I can hear him closing in behind me but I jump and grab a low hanging tree branch and scramble up as fast as I can. This gives me a chance to catch my breath and plan my next move.

The rhino cannot follow me up the tree but he circles it a few times before getting the idea to strike the tree trunk with his massive battle axe. I feel somthing in my boot and pull out a small combat knife. I jump out of the tree while he is distracted and circle behind. I stab the rhino in the small of the back with the knife, which cripples him, and he can no longer chase me. I walk up the hill and find myself surrounded by many lions lounging about. I assume they are male because they all have thick manes. In the distance I can see a white temple or castle and there is a large, black, winged dragon wrapped around the tallest tower.