Recent DJ Posts

Morning of October 16, 2014. Thursday.



I have had kidnapping dreams since early childhood from various perspectives, including the rescue of Brenda W (as the precognitive wife-to-be “stand-in”) in the recurring “Patches” dream as well as escaping from a villainous Ricardo Montalbán by phasing and flying through the roof of a taxi in “My Little Cane”, but this one is atypical and quite vivid. In my dream, there is recent news of a child having vanished from her parents’ apartment on the third floor. Her name is Elly. (The name is seemingly unrelated to any real-life character though may possibly be a play on my wife’s middle name of Gabrielle or of our youngest daughter’s first name Isabelle.)

This is also one of the only dreams in my lifetime (especially in recent years) where I seemed to have a more discernible stronger fear to a point where it “reset” and had a replay. (Not only that, I woke up with my eyelids inside-out, which made my wife ask if I was okay. Of all the bizarre events I have lived through, that has not happened before to my knowledge.) This is not like the purposely instigated dinosaur-chase dreams (which I no longer have) but something quite different. I seem to be some sort of “medium” where I can pick up on someone else’s state of emotion. I “become” the apparently kidnapped girl at least in a sort of remote-viewing awareness. I strongly sense her feeling of being lost and away from her home. I clearly feel her vulnerability (as I believe she is only about three years old). It causes me to scream twice yet this is not “me”, it is the other entity within me and someone I may be able to help. The scream mostly comes from seemingly having my arm twisted too far around (when walking in a particular direction), which seems to be a fairly common fear of someone this age. (Most people seem to completely forget what it was like as a child, which seems odd to me, as I still am able to clearly remember the quite different size orientation and unusual perspective (compared to now) as well as how imposing, cruel, and obnoxious older people seem even when they do not mean to be.) I “recover” from that state and go for a walk. The scenario seems fairly convenient. I already see her older brother and an older sister in the area. (Her parents have a total of three children.) The area seems like a typical composite, seemingly with features of La Crosse and Brisbane mashed together ambiguously.

I go to the apartment to check out the location. I apparently have some sense of “detection” relative to the previous in-dream event, sort of like X-ray vision via my hands as I hold them up and about to use this ability. I can still “hear” her mood at times, but I think she is sleeping presently. I end up going about two blocks past the parents’ apartment into a different apartment building. On the second floor, I sense a presence. The environment itself seems to react to my intent. Oddly, a wheelbarrow is in the hall. The wheelbarrow actually stands upright on its handles, using its handles to walk about somewhat mechanically. It knocks against the door, seemingly “communicating” with me that this is where the girl is.

I go in without fear and notice a clutter near the door but am still able to get through. A Caucasian male is watching television. He is probably about forty, quite chubby and mostly balding, wearing a white tank top. I ask him where Elly is and he does not seem surprised. I also tell him that he would not believe the nature of how I found her, that is, until the wheelbarrow “walks” into the room on its handles. I am not sure of what sort of character this is and am not sure if the wheelbarrow will somehow “eat” him. It seems possible that the girl just wandered off, but I am ready to take her home at any rate. She does not seem hurt; just a bit frail and weak, sleeping. She has dark curly hair (similar to my wife’s).

I pick her up and when I go outside, carrying her, it begins to rain fairly heavily as I am walking, but the heavy, cold drops are rather sparse. The external walls of various buildings are to my left, but there are no awnings or extended roofs to take cover under. A few drops of cool rain fall on her face and start to revive her and she moans and blinks at the raindrops falling on her face. Her eyes are green and catlike (also like my wife’s). This part; imagery, orientation, movement, augmented touch; all extremely vivid as life. It is quite amazing.

I get to the other apartment and although it is difficult to balance and climb the steps while carrying her, I get to the next landing. A (unknown) male asks me if it is Elly and I say yes and he says that it is the first good news he has heard all day, seemingly in contrast to some sort of business franchise not working out as well as general world news in the media. My dream fades as I reach the door of her apartment, after going into low-flying mode to avoid the step-by-step “problematic” staircase.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A girl was riding a long motorcycle (which may also somehow have been a horse) along a beach-like area which bordered a jungle and which may have had something like a concrete path running along it. The girl looked like my friend FA, except that she was possibly a little girl. The motorcycle was long, much bigger than usual, and it was hot pink.

The girl did a pop-a-wheelie on the bike/horse. The bike/horse reared too far back and tumbled backwards. The girl fell off the bike. She was severely injured. Two men with dark, coppery skin and black hair ran up to the girl to see if she was okay. She seemed to be in terrible shape and she had a broken leg.

A third man ran out of the jungle. He had a cell phone in his hands. I thought he was going to call the police. But instead he just kind of conferred with the other men. He figured he'd load up the girl in a wheelbarrow and push her to the hospital.

I was kind of frustrated by all this. I thought the men should be calling 911. I was now in the scene. The girl was in the wheelbarrow. She was wrapped up in a lot of old-looking grey blankets. She was so wrapped up that she couldn't be seen at all. I began pushing the woman to the hospital.

I was pushing the wheelbarrow along a concrete path on a university campus. The campus had a lot of lawn between the buildings, and the lawn was all shaded over by the thick canopies of tall trees. I saw a big, red brick building with a white facade and columns in the distance. I thought that was the hospital.

At an intersection on walkways, I stopped. A huge, red fire tuck was coming from my right. As I saw it approaching, I actually pushed the woman out into the intersection. I figured the truck would see us and stop. But it didn't care about us and wasn't going to stop. So I pulled the wheelbarrow back, let the truck pass, then went on.

I now realized the big building wasn't a hospital. It was a police station. I had pushed the woman inside the police station. It looked like a garage, but it was lit beautifully, like for a Broadway play. There was one man hunched over a small box on the floor, working away.

I tried to get the man to look at the woman. But I didn't want to be too pushy and get in trouble with the cops. But after a moment, a female cop came up to us. The cop was tall, heavy set, with feathered, blonde hair, tan skin, and a really red face. She asked me what was wrong with the woman. She then gave me some advice about what to tell them at the hospital, once I got there. It was something about making sure they did the job right and didn't rip me off.

I was now with a group of friends in some small room. The room was some other place I'd come to for help. The people there were co-workers of mine. The room was like a kind of dumpy office room in a community center or church. There was a potted palm somewhere.

One of the friends with me started answering questions that one of my co-workers, CB, was asking. CB was asking a lot of questions, not out of concern, but mostly because he was trying to reassure himself that the injured woman's experience wasn't more intense than his own personal experiences.

Eventually we were told to go somewhere else, like a hospital. As we were leaving, the place became like a cafeteria. I figured I should buy the woman some food, since she was probably hungry. I was in some small, crowded hallway part of the cafeteria. One of my friends, a short female, stood right in front of me, as if waiting for instruction.

Somehow I had bought two apples. We were now outside, on a concrete walkway on a college campus. The campus was rather active with students. My friends and I were pushing the woman to the hospital. But I decided I should stop to feed the woman.

I managed to pull the woman out of the wheelbarrow. She was still wrapped up in all the blankets. I unwrapped a blanket near the woman's face and held out an apple.The woman didn't seem to be responding. I was a little worried.

Another female friend knelt down in front of me and told me that the woman may have died. I couldn't believe it was so. I looked at the apple I was holding. It was rotten on one side. Eventually I heard bites being taken out of the other side. Then the apple was eaten all the way through, to the side I was holding. So the girl was alive!

The girl was completely unwrapped. I was holding her in my arms. But she was completely invisible.