Morning of November 5, 2013. Tuesday. I am in either St. Martin (relating to the Jimmy Buffet song “The Night I Painted The Sky”) or perhaps Brisbane in South Bank Parklands in another time, in the past, on Cracker Night, but which in real life no longer occurs due to health and safety issue. The first part of the Jimmy Buffet song goes, “I came from the north, Escaping convention, modern invention that won’t let me be, to the shores of St. Martin, with my fiction addiction, to restart the fire, a dreamer’s remedy”. The fireworks are bright but mostly hues of blue, white, and turquoise. Several times, they form a butterfly pattern, with sparks going out from the center, a pale glow forming the body, and two additional “rockets” streaking upwards near the top. This is apparently also an actual real-life event which I have not ever actually seen anywhere. I hear, seemingly from distant speakers, the original Bob Lind version of “Elusive Butterfly”, or at least I think I do. The song is a rare treasure in a world of mostly noise and meandering negativity. Even though it seems like a big event, only a few people seem to be in the immediate area, mostly couples. Still - there is loud yelling and cheering that seems to be coming from somewhere else. A man runs past me to my left, at least one larger spark falling behind him onto the ground. He seems a bit nervous. A mysterious girl, mostly of shadow, is at a fair distance, but still partially discernible. She appears to be near a refreshment stand. After a time, more sparks are falling, now and then, causing sizzling sounds to occur in a few locations but no impression of danger. The sparks that are falling are not sparks, but glowing beads. Apparently it is not true fireworks, but someone shooting small glowing beads into the air, seemingly from a boat halfway across the river. They must be magnetic, as they seem to either roll towards each other or move away from each other once they hit the ground. Other people appear and beads hit them now and then, but nothing dramatic happens. Eventually, the girl in shadow comes out and the beads start sticking to her dark blouse, forming a beautiful, glowing mosaic-like image (still of mostly blues, white, and turquoise). It makes a three-dimensional network of circulatory-like light and the wings move. Only one person (another girl in a small group) notices and says “oh, look at that”, pointing, but no one else notices, so they soon all walk off elsewhere. I am still aware of some fireworks in the sky, which is starting to make a buzzing hum rather than a crackling. One man still stands around looking a bit puzzled. “Oh, that’s my wife,” I say, walking to the “shadow girl”, and it is. Suddenly, a magnetic field visibly forms along the same trajectory as the falling sparks from the fireworks. However, it becomes very difficult to tell the difference between the “butterfly” and the magnetic field, even in what seems to be some sort of growing rhythmic movement that makes me feel very peaceful and comfortable. I sense youthful laughter and cheerfulness from a fair distance.
I was in some sort of trial, I had been bio-engineered to contain butterfly DNA, in the hopes that I could fly. I remember being in Port Macquarie, though my purpose there I'm not sure of. It was night, and I was on one of the higher levels of the resort, though the room didn't resemble anywhere I've ever been before. I could feel I was different, I could physically feel that if I learned to, I could fly, as though I had wings in my back. I have a fragment of being in a carpark, it was daytime. We were going to court, something about my modifications. I don't remember the first visit or anything that happened during it, it is all blank. I made the decision, I was going to have to learn to fly. I went to a field, long, stretching glass plains and tried to fly, but I failed. I needed to get my father to help me. My dad was in the loungeroom, with 3 other people. One was his business partner, the other my dentist, and I'm not sure on the 4th, but I believe he was old. They were all drunk, and relaxing in soft padded lounge chairs. It was late afternoon, and a soft, warm sunlight filled the room, but the atmosphere was still tense for me. "I'm going to learn to fly. I want to, all the hormones in my body are telling me I have to, there's no reason not to." They didn't seem as disturbed as I thought they were going to be, and I told them I would owe them a 6 pack for helping me. The dream skips, and I am in court again. Artificial lighting, lots of wooden furniture and walls. I believe I was being told that I wasn't allowed to learn to fly. All the people here wore suits, with extremely pale skin. One old man in particular glowed blue, and stared at me and hissed. They had some sort of paper shredder made out of spinning knives in a box. I wish I remembered more of this dream. I thought and felt as though I was in waking reality throughout the whole dream, and it was one of the most vivid dreams I've had in a long time. I could physically feel how I would use my wings, it's such a weird sensation and I can stir the feeling in waking life. The men in the suits have me confused, they had a very, very strong presence.
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