Multiple Me's Dream

This morning I had a rather unusual dream. I dreamed that I was in a larger than usual two-man prison cell alone. I decided in the dream to masterbate to a fantasy of being used by other inmates (something I used to fantasize about often when I was in prison years ago). So I pulled down my pants and layed down on a bunk in the cell on my stomach, and began my fantasy (which usually began with me seducing the other inmates by letting them see me naked). Then suddenly I heard a guard coming. So I jumped up and pulled up my pants... or at least one of me did. When I looked back at the bunk, I was still laying there! Only now I was completely naked, waiting to be used. The guard came into the cell as I was whispering desperately to my other naked self to “get up!”. But the guard, a female, walked in and saw both of us, me standing fully clothed and me laying on the bunk naked, at the same time. But she could not see who the naked man on the bunk was because he had long hair (which in the dream I thought how strange it was that my hair had grown so quickly – because in real life right now my hair is only crew-cut length), so she clearly thought we were having sex, a prison rule violation. But I told her it was “Just me” on the bunk as I slapped the other me on the ass to get him to look up so she could see his face. Once she saw that it was in fact just me, I pointed out to her that there were no rules against masterbating (except I was not using words, and the true meaning of what I “said” to her was more like, “having sex with myself”, though it also meant “masterbating” at the same time). She agreed, and then left, apparently satisfied that no rules were being violated. I only remember one other time that I dreamed of multiple “me's”. And in that one other dream there were four me's! Two me's, one a young man, and the other a young boy, were playing on a lake dock together, and in the water, while an older, middle age me-me (the one who was having the dream) watched them from a near-by hill, while a much wiser and disembodied-me “stood” behind me-me. I asked (again without using words) the disembodied-me what I could do to “help the boy” (refering to the boy-me on the dock), and the disembodied-me replied, “He needs to know he is forgiven/loved” (again not with words, so “forgiven/loved” is the closest I can come to what was actually said. Actually, an even more correct term would be, “unconditionally forgiven/loved”, but of course in the dream all of this was expressed with just one word that seemed to be “forgiven”). Both of these multiple-me's dreams seem to have important messages from me to me. Is that weird or what?

Coincidental Dream?

I frequently have dreams that mysteriously seem to correspond to things I see in the media the following day. Last night I dreamed that I was in a police evidence room where several shelves contained opened boxes of strawberry shortcakes that the employees would eat, even though they weren't supposed to. In todays newspaper, the “Dennis the Menace” cartoon showed Dennis' mom serving him a slice of strawberry shortcake. Coincidence? Well, even though this kind of “coincidence” seems to occur to me often, I still tend to dismiss it as just that, a coincidence. But today the coincidence was just a little stronger that usual; the shortcake in the Dennis comic showed the strawberries sandwiched between two cakes, exactly like in my dream! Strange? Well, consider this: when I normally think of strawberry shortcake I always expect the strawberries to be on TOP of the cake. In fact, I cannot remember ever seeing shortcake with the strawberries in the middle, until today, in my dream, and in the Dennis comic. Still coincidence?

P.S. In the same paper was a “Pardon My Planet” comic that seemed to coincidentally correspond to my recent “Pencil in my Eye” blog post about a world full of one eyed people with no depth perception: In the cartoon a woman says to her boyfriend, “Sure, Gandhi said, 'An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.' I think instead that the loss of depth perception would make it really hard to shoot each other anymore.” I never knew Gandhi ever made such a statement, but I agree with him, not her (she was just being silly, but the coincidence is unmistakable – Carl Jung calls this “synchronicity”.)

Desert Decisions Dream

I dreamed last night that I was driving down the street toward the house I lived in as a kid at Ft. Lewis, Washington, on “Davis Hill” (an NCO housing area), but the street unexpectedly continued past where my house should have been (and for some reason the road was made of bricks, or cobblestone, instead of pavement). So I stopped at some sort of government information center to ask for directions. I told the person inside the info-center that I was looking for the house where I lived as a child at “8513 Lawndale” (which was where I lived after Ft. Lewis, in what is now Lakewood, WA. I don't remember the actual street name for Davis Hill). The official said he recognized the address and that it was nearby. He pulled out some maps to show me and began marking streets with a marker. I remember looking at the maps and seeing what they looked like. But, nothing I saw was familiar to me. The man marking the map ended up tracing far more streets than it should have taken me to find my old house. Then he gave me the map along with this curious instruction: “Follow the lines, especially in the desert, that's where the new decisions need to be made.” (The “decisions” were new roads on the map)

A Pencil In My Eye

A few months after I was arrested in Idaho in 2005, while I was still desperately trying to understand what was happening, I had this dream, which I told my attorney's about and also wrote about in a journal that I was keeping at the time. I dreamed that I had a pencil stuck in my eye, and when I tried to pull it out my brains started to come out stuck to the pencil. I was in an outdoor plaza and people were walking all around me, but they either ignored or even avoided me by walking clear around me. I cried desperately, “Please, help me! I'm hurt! Please help me! Help!” But the people continued to ignore me, some just looked right at me but kept walking. They could see me, but why wouldn't they help me? When I woke up from this dream I found I had been crying in my sleep, and I quickly realized that it was not just a dream. It was an apt metaphor for my “sickness” in real life, and the way people just stared at me, but no one would help. Also, in real life, like in the dream, I am effectively blinded in one eye, which prevents me from being able to perceive depth. But in real life the “eye” is my “heart”, or, the part of my subconscious mind that allows me to “see” (ie. Love, understand, etc.) the world I live in and the other people in it. To me, the world is a flat, two-dimensional reality. Of course I know about depth, and the three-dimensional nature of the world, just as a man with one eye knows the world is three-dimensional. But, like a man with one eye, I simply can't see the same way other people see. I know the depth is there, but I can't “see” it (which could explain why I once proclaimed in another dream, “I want to love Jesus but He won't let me!”). This dream perfectly depicts the nightmare that has been my life. The “pencil” is still there today, and it still hurts like hell all the time. It often gets bumped causing flare-ups of pain that I will never be able to prevent as long as the “pencil” remains in my eye. But Shasta, the little girl I couldn't kill, helped me “see”, by letting me look through her eyes. And what I saw changed the way I see things forever. I saw a whole new dimension to reality that I once knew, but had long since forgotten! I knew that without Shasta I would be “blind” again. But the glimpse she gave me was all I needed. She restored my hope in love. I suspect there are a lot of one-eyed people in the world, but not for much longer. We only need each other to “see.”

Waking Up From Murder

I just awoke from a nap. I was dreaming that I was visiting my step family, who in real life have said that I “deserve to die”. Actually, in the dream, the family I was visiting was a bizarre hodgepodge of past friends, step family and even a reality TV family (kind of a cross between “19 kids and counting” and “little people, big world”). I was sitting in the dining room where two of my real life step-nephews seemed to be doing homework for school. By way of making polite conversation I asked them what grade they were in. The one sitting closest to me, Nick, who in real life, as in the dream, is a very independent young man, told me, “eight”. I said, “Do you mean, eighth grade?” He said contemptuously, “No. We don't have 'grades'. We have 'levels'. We're not like other schools.” I asked, “What do you mean?” And he said, “We believe in the death penalty.” As I started to inquire further I woke up. But even as I lay awake in my jail cell, more questions for my nephew poured through my mind. 'Do you think some people deserve to die?' 'What do you mean by “deserve to die?”' As I lay there, I realized that a person's position on the death penalty is a good divider between basic types of belief systems. And this dream seemed to indicate so by apparently defining an entire school system based on the belief in the death penalty. If you believe in the death penalty, then you essentially believe that some people “deserve to die” (or conversely, “do not deserve to live”). And you can't believe that unless you also believe that there are (and should be) some standards that people must live up to in order to “deserve to live”. You also, by implication, believe that those standards are determinable. And, more importantly, that it is possible to weigh an individual against said determined standards. In short, if you believe in the death penalty, then you believe that humans have the ability to determine (by judgement) the moral worth of other humans. And this belief will determine not only your position on the death penalty, but also your position on many other issues as well, such as whether or not war can be justified on moral grounds (i.e. “in the name of God”). Even a person who calls themselves atheist, is bowing to a false god, if they believe such a thing. I won't go into all the reasons it is impossible for us to morally judge each other, numerous other books have already been written about that (especially the Bible!). But I just wanted to observe what believing in the death penalty really means. I believed I had the ability to judge society once too. And I believed that my ability to judge was superior to those whom I judged. And I carried out my judgements, until a little girl showed me that my ability to judge was pure delusion. That was when I “woke up” in real life!

Art Conscious Dream

I dreamed today that I had returned to college for an art class. I arrived early for class and found the instructor, a middle aged black woman, at the front of the classroom contemplating a painting that she had painted and was presenting for that days lecture. The painting was an abstract watercolor self portrait, black on white canvas, about 3x4 feet tall. It stood on a pedistal at the front of the room facing toward the seats. The instructor stood near a lecture podium as she mused over her work of art from a few feet in front of it. I approached without speaking so as to politely not disturb her. I stopped near the front of the room and also began contemplating her portrait. She then began speaking to me as if we were already in the middle of a conversation about the painting. She said, “Notice how some parts are well defined, such as my arms and my hair, while other parts are intentionally obscure, such as my legs and torso.” I noticed what she was talking about in the painting. The “well defined arms” she spoke of were black rectangular shapes that seemed to extend either out of or into the painting, depending on how you looked at it. The “hair” which clearly defined the position of the subjects head, was a sharply defined black arch near the top of the painting. The “legs”, and other parts of the painting were extremely vague by comparison. After a pause, long enough to allow me to take all this in, she said, “The parts that are well defined express the focus of my consciousness as I worked on the painting. The parts that are blured are areas that my mind was trying to avoid being aware of. For example, see how blured and misshapen the legs are? That is because my legs were causing me pain at the time.” I saw exactly what she meant, and I could almost tell her exactly how her legs felt just by looking at the painting. Then I suddenly “opened up” to the painting and I started “seeing” reflections of my own consciousness in it. I said to the instructor, “Yes I see what you mean. The blured undefined areas seem to change, according to my own mood, while the clearly defined strokes keep me anchored to the subject.” I caught her nod of approval out of the corner of my eye. Then other students started to arrive for the class. (The dream continued, but was less interesting after that)

Sweet Sweet Innocence

I dreamed yesterday that I was visiting a planet where the people lived on an island under constant threat from attack by intelligent creatures that lived beneath the surface of the oceans. Except for their tiny island, their entire world was covered with clear blue water. The sky was permanently overcast by tremendous amounts of moisture from the great ocean, but this protected the islanders from a sun much closer and harsher than our own here on Earth. While I was there an attack came and the alarm was raised for everyone to defend the island. I moved outside and down to the beach where everyone was running around in a panic. Orders were being yelled and ignored. Then I saw groups of islanders opening fire at other groups of islanders, who returned fire to defend themselves. Soon a full scale battle broke out, but there was no attackers! At least, none from the sea. The islanders were fighting each other in the ever escalating confusion and chaos. I began walking along a seawall, where I saw several large horse-like creatures that had been brutally slain in the fighting. Their large mutilated bodies seemed to emphasize the insanity of the “battle”. Then I came to the end of the seawall and turned inland. Just off the shore, and behind the battle lines, I saw where new horse-like creatures were being brought in to replace other ones killed. They seemed unconscious when they arrived, and they were secured with straps inside the crates, lying flat on their sides. I approached one of the crates that had a smaller, pony-sized, creature. As I watched the pony was unstrapped and revived (woke up). It quickly got to its feet and I saw that it was very much like a child's fantasy pony, with a blue coat and colorful mane, complete with wings that seemed to attach themselves to the animal rather thatn being a part of it. I suddenly felt very much as though I was in a child's dream, like no dream I had ever been in. And as if to emphasize my own alien presence, I then noticed a little girl, abous six-years-old, who I knew to be a princess, and the recipient of the flying pony (and perhaps also the “dreamer”). I watched as the pony took to the air and flew majestically out over the sea past and through the many rainbows that made up the sky. It was so beautiful and so innocent at the same time that I began to cry happily. I followed the little princess, who followed the pony, as it flew back toward the castle where I had been before the fighting had started. But now there was no more fighting, it seemed almost everyone was dead or no longer able to fight. I was still crying when we arrived at the castle gates, and as I watched the little girl go inside I couldn't help but notice what a sexy little ass she had, even as I cried over the beauty of her innocence. Then I woke up. I'll let you interpret this dream however you wish. But let me say this; for me, it was a great lesson!

A Dream Not Forgotten

In a dream that I had when I was 21 years old in the cell-blocks at McNeil Island Corrections Center (M.I.C.C.), I dreamed that I was a massive twelve foot tall barely humanoid creature. I was stooped over in a hospital room, and there was an anonymous man, of normal stature, laying in the bed in front of me. I somehow knew that in order to prove that I could be a “demon” I had to eat the man. So I picked him up as easily as picking up a child, and began biting his leg. I was repulsed, so I started laughing and snarling as I chowed on the man's leg in order to stave off my repulsion. Then suddenly two tremendous black shadowy arms wrapped around me from behind and pulled me backwards and down. I fell through the floor of the hospital room and quickly found myself being pulled helplessly down into the blackest blackness. As I fell backwards, the powerful arms constricted my chest and arms, so I could not move or breath! I felt a sense of fear at that moment like nothing I had ever experienced before, or since. It was sheer unrestrained terror, that no worldly experience could ever replicate. Then I somehow knew that I was dreaming, and desperately willed myself to wake up. I woke with a violent start and gasping for air. I was back at M.I.C.C., in the top-front bunk (nearest the bars) of an eight-man prison cell, on “Dog-tier”, one story up. It was morning and the other inmates in the cell were also just waking up and in various stages of dress as they got ready for mainline (breakfast). After catching my breath and taking several deep breaths to calm down, I climbed down off the bunk and sat down on the locker next to the bars. The man who slept below me was a friend, and he was there sitting on his bunk. I began to tell him about my dream. But some of the other inmates in the cell overheard, and one of them began raging on me about dreaming that I was a demon. I got angry and told him to shut up. Incouraged by his own friends, he began taunting me even more, “What'cha gonna do, eat me!” I jumped up and attacked him in the middle of the cell. I was so angry that I quickly brought him to the ground, with me on top, and began forcefully slamming his head into the concrete floor. He stopped resisting after the first blow to his head on the floor. The inmate was dead, but I had my hands around his neck and kept using that hold to lift and slam, lift and slam his head into the floor, until his face started to distort. Then I watched in amazement as his face transformed into that of a hideous demon, and he started laughing at me as I banged his head even more and more furiously into the floor and strangled him at the same time. I screamed (and these are the exact words that I remember clearly to this day), “No! No! I don't want to hate! I want to love Jesus, but he won't let me!” Then I woke up again, this time for real. I was in the same bunk, but the lights were off and a guard was just then walking past the bars at the front of the cell with a flashlight doing a security check. Everyone else was still asleep. It was the middle of the night. My heart was racing, and I sat up to think about what had just happened. Could that really have been just a dream? Or was it some sort of message; a warning? I didn't know, but I decided not to take it too seriously, though it was a dream that I never forgot.

Dream World

I may have blogged about this idea once before, I don't remember. But the dream I just woke from illustrates the phenomenon too clearly to pass up a chance to document it.
The idea is that the mind somehow has the ability to create and animate distinct complex and individually motivated characters that can act and think for themselves. The following methinks clearly illustrates this:
I dreamed I was at an academic social function. Rather than a greeting line at the entrance there was a gauntlet of distinguished college officials that had to be passed through like a “farewell line”. I had to leave early for some reason and after moving through the farewell line nodding to and shaking hands with the men and women who I did and didn't know, the last professor in the line, who recognized me as one of his better students, asked me if I liked to watch movies as I shook his hand to say good-bye.
I replied that I did like movies, and he then indicated that he had some movies that I might be interested in. My mind at the time was on the reason that I was leaving early (my father, who was also at the function, asked me to come with him because he had something important to show me – I never found out what it was in the dream). So the professor's offer was a mere distraction that I countered politely by telling him I would be interested and I would stop by his office after classes started. Then I moved away from him and toward the exit where my father was waiting outside. As I moved away, by way of further expressing my interest in the professor's movies, I commented, “I hope they have lots of action in them”.
Here's where it becomes clear that the professor was acting and thinking completely independently from me (or rather, the “me” I seemed to be in the dream). He said, “Well, actually, they are more of the information sort of movies”.
I considered this, and realized that the professor had currently assumed that I would be interested in such “movies” (I love documentaries). So I said, “Great! I'll e-mail you!” To which he replied, “Good, just remember that you only have until midnight”.
I at first did not understand what he meant. I thought he was making a personal offer to share some “movies” that he thought I'd find interesting. Then I realized that when he said “midnight”, he was refering to the school's registration deadline, which meant that the “information” movies he was refering to must be part of a new course he was offering that semester, and he was pitching me the class!
He obviously did not know that I was no longer a student (in the dream I somehow still realized that I had abandoned college for my “rampage against society” and would be locked up the rest of my life, even though I was not locked up in the dream – a dream think thing).
This dream interaction demonstrates completely independent and complex, even manipulative, thinking on the part of the professor. He behaved and spoke in ways that indicate an ulterior motive; hense independent will and consciousness!
This raises some important questions. If my mind (presuming that dreams are exclusively the product of an isolated brain) has the ability to represent complex thinking and independent motives in my dreams, then why couldn't that ability be exploited unconsciously while I am awake. And in fact, through mental focusing exercises (i.e. meditation) I have determined that my unconscious mind is in fact made up an entire community of these independently thinking, and independently conscious entities, even while I am fully awake! Though I typically do not become directly aware of them unless I am asleep (or drifting ott to, or on from, sleep).
So my brain not only can and does think on its own regardless of my conscious consent, but it must do so in order to function (for a less phylosophical and more scientific discussion of this phenomenon read the book Society of Mind by Marvin Minsky). And if this is true (and I absolutely believe that it is) then the whole idea of independent free will needs to be reconsidered.
I am made up of independent entities that somehow function together to form “me”. And since that is demonstratably true, then why might not the so-called individuals of human society really be the independent entities that make up the unconscious mind of Gaia (the World)?
This would explain a lot, and gives us a new way of thinking about ourselves as not so independent after all! For example, wouldn't we, as parts of a larger mind, necessarily reflect and ultimately conform to the purposes and experiences of the greater mind? Was the last century nothing more than literally a Gaiaian nightmare? If so, then how can we wake her (Gaia) up? Or will she “wake up” on her own? Or is she already awake?
These are the kinds of questions that I think about all the time. So now you know.

P.S.: I should address one major criticism of my “mind of Society” idea. Someone might think that there is a huge difference between how the “ entities” in our mind interact (biologically) and how people interact in human society (physically). And in fact there is a “huge difference”, but primarily in scale alone, but not methodology. Let me explain:
We know that ultimately our brain is made up of billions of individual cells called neurons. Neurons ultimately communicate with each other not by direct contact, but by chemical signals (neurotransmitters) that are sent and received from one neuron to the next across tiny but distinct spaces that seperate the neurons (synaptic gaps).
And we know that the ability of our neurons to communicate with each other is highly dependent upon the chemical environment of the brain, which directly effects the chemical signalling process.
So our mind, ultimately, is in fact made up of billions of individual neuronic “entities” that somehow form conscious thought (but I would argue, not consciousness itself) and function (i.e. by having sensual experiences) by merely communicating with each other via chemical signals that also depend on the environment in which they are sent.
This is exactly, sans scale, how people communicate as well!The only difference is that the synaptic gaps and environment is extended out into the World.
For example, the neurons in my brain right this moment are interacting indirectly with the neurons of your brain. The added step of having the chemical messages translated to physical signals (in this case light, which is what your neurons are responding to as you read), is no more than an extension of the chemical signalling process in our brains.
So if our neurons can form a “mind” for us through indirect communication within our brain, then why shouldn't our brains be able to somehow form an even greater mind via the extended indirect communication throughout the world? There is no reason why not presently known to science. And if such a Gaia-Mind does exist, we could never interact with her directly... or could we? Or, even, are we already and just don't realize it? Who are “we” anyway? Are “we” Gaia? Why not? No, I mean really think about it; why not?

They're Watching Me

I just woke up from a nap, laying on my right side facing the wall, and I saw very clearly a small light colored spider crawling on the wall. My first thought was, „That explains the itchy bite mark that I found on my thigh the other day.” My second thought was more of an impulse than a thought, and it was to capture it as a pet (I have gotten in the habit of capturing the bugs I find in my cell to watch them for awhile to see if I can tell what they eat. I even caught some larvae that floated up out of the sink drain in my cell recently and kept them for two weeks until they changed into flies before I let them go). But just as I thought about capturing the spider it melded into the wall!
Now I'm totally freaked out. This exact same thing happened to me once before as I woke from a nap in IMSI (Idaho Maximum Security Institution) about three years ago. I was also laying on my right side facing the wall, but the „spider” was a little bigger that time (about one and a half inches, this time it was only one inch) and I remember it had flattened legs like ribbons instead of rounded like a normal spider. This time the legs seemed more normal (rounded), but they were spread out more evenly around the body whereas last time the legs stuck out more concentrated to each side. In both cases the „spider” was light colored (same color as the wall) and in both cases the spider vanished into the wall right before my eyes. Last time I thought maybe it had dropped off the wall when I blinked (even though I did not remember blinking). This time I know I did not blink, it simply vanished less than eighteen inches in front of my face.
I stared at the wall for a moment hoping it would reappear, or at least for the wall to change subtly when I woke up and saw the „real” wall. But the wall did not change at all, every crack bump and detail that I had just seconds ago seen the apparition crawling across remained the same, and now I was very much wide awake!
Maybe the psych doctors whom I have contested for the last several years are right. Maybe there is something wrong with my brain. This could certainly be classified as a hallucination (last time this happened I dismissed it as a very odd dream, but this time that won't be so easy). Or maybe, just maybe, I saw something I wasn't supposed to see!

Execution Dream

I dreamed today (during an evening nap) that I was in a modern execution chamber, strapped to the gurney in a seated position with the needle already in my arm attached to the tubes and apparatus through which the poisons would be administered. I was crying even though I was not truly afraid, just very sad. I knew people could see me even though I could not see them. But none of this was either strange or frightening to me. What was strange is that during this entire dream I was just a little girl of only about twelve years. I remember having straight shoulder length dark blond hair and wondering how the people watching me could possibly not realize the travisty of what they were witnessing (which is why I was crying).
Just before I woke up from this dream I realized that the people watching would only think I was afraid if I cried, because they needed to believe I was afraid for some reason. So I stopped crying and then I woke up, but I wasn't sad anymore.

Another Cognizant Dream

My dreams last night were all over the map. But there was one occurance that seemed significant upon my reflections after waking up.
In the dream I was with a female friend and we had just encountered a grassy knoll that was filled with harmless gardener snakes of all sizes from worm to cobra. The knoll was at the top of a cliff and I ended up at the bottom of the cliff while my friend was still at the top. I saw a large black bumble bee fly up to her and in a panic she jumped. But instead of falling she seemed to be carried by the wind, past me, and then suspend in mid air for a moment. I called to her, „Come this way and I'll catch you!”.
So she did, and I caught her in one hand (she had become no more than a figuring at this time, but she was a lifesize person before). After I caught her I immediately asked if she was unharmed, which she was. Then she exclaimed excitedly, „Did you see me! I flew!”
The significance of this is subtle but important. In the dream, even after she told me she had flown, I thought the wind must have caught her and carried her like an untethered kite. But after I woke and thought about it I realized not only was there no wind blowing in the dream, but the way she moved was clearly according to her own volition. She not only flew, but she demonstrated an act of independent free will and more importantly, cognizance! She expressed clearly her knowledge of the fact that she flew, and she expressed this in a way that implied that she also knew that it is impossible to fly.
In the dream I did not realize the implications at all. As I've already stated, I only thought the wind had caught her and reflected no further upon the incident. That means that I could not have consciously constructed the illusion of her cognizant behavior. She maintained and expressed an independent and complex belief of what had just occured that was in no way hinted at or supported by my own belief. So I assert this as an indication that there is more than one conscious cognizance present in the human mind capable of, and in fact, acting and thinking independently.
Either that, or somehow we are able to interact with other cognizant beings in our dreams, which is also a possibility, but not one I am so ready to tout quite yet. And then perhaps, both scenarios are at play together when we dream and then even unconsciously while we are supposedly wide awake.

Silent Lucidity

I am convinced more than ever that life is no more than a dream.
Yesterday I kept waking up in different cells. Every „life” is another prison cell. All my life I have felt this confinement, and in one way or another I have struggled against it.
Death is no escape. But I think forgiveness is.
Forgiveness is the end of struggle and the end of the confinement of those condemned by their own choices to reawaken in yet another prison cell (i. e. reincarnation?).
Forgiveness does not condemn, nor does it condone. It does not forget or remember. Forgiveness accepts and loves unconditionally. Forgiveness is absolute faith in the creator and orchistrator of our dreams.
„These dreams go on when I close my eyes...
Every second of the night, I live another life...”
It seems I am not the first to wake up... to forgive. Everywhere I look I see more and more evidence of others who have come to realize and to understand the dream nature of our suffering. But like in the movie „They Live”, the evidence is invisible to those who do not have the means to see for themselves. And, not just invisible, but unbelievable as well.
„Unfortunately, no one can be told what the matrix is.”

I Dream of Genie

I dreamed today (having slept till 5 pm) that I survived some undefined apocalyptic world event (a recurring scenario in my dreams) by hiding and running from the other survivors who had weapons. I had no weapons myself since running and hiding were much more conducive to surviving than trying to fight. Eventually the armed survivors killed themselves off and the passive unarmed survivors prospered.
Since the human population was drastically reduced the survivors tended to cluster together in large homes (i. e. mansions) forming small clans or „families” of unrelated people. The homes were typically well kept inside where the lack of power tools and machinery was not so important, but run down and unkept outside where such tools were needed but not available.
I lived in such a home with some older people whom I considered and respected like my parents, as well as a few young people who were my adopted children. I had no „siblings” (i. e. peers) near to my own age.
In the dream I brought a very beautiful woman, my age, to my home. My children were in bed when we entered the large mansion, so I asked her if she'd like to retire to my study. In the study she asked me to close the curtains, which I knew meant that she expected me to make love to her, which I was certainly eager to do. But, first I introduced her to our family's two small puppies.
We cuddled together with the puppies in our arms on the sofa in the study. I was using the puppies to stall for time before making love because I did not know if my adopted father was home or not, and if he came home he would have to walk through the study to get to his room.
After enough time had passed to satisfy me that my father would not be interupting, and just before we both became too drowsy and lost interest in sex altogether, I told her I had something I wanted to say, then i kissed her gently on the lips. She immediately responded by submitting completely to my advance and the kiss grew on its own into a deep and passionate expression of our mutual love.
Then I woke up , and was happy to know that such passion and love was still very much alive somewhere inside of me. (My dreams never actually progress to full sexual contact so not doing so this time was no great disappointment.) It is dreams like this that help me „hang on”. They give me hope, and tell me that life is so much more than it seems!

Realistic Surrealism?

I dreamed last night that I floated down a hallway on a swimpool air mattress until i reached some stairs that lead to a loading dock platform that opened up to a sea where thirty foot waves rose intimidatingly toward the dock but collapsed to just level with the dock before crashing (not breaking) and then slopping over the dock to get me wet but not knocking me down. I watched several of these waves thinking each time that they were about to wipe me out but none did. Then I saw a large boulder the size of a car floating (yes, floating) just below the surface near the dock. The next wave threatened to lift the rock and throw it toward me, so I climbed to a higher platform above the cement dock area. From there I could see the sea beyond the dock better and I also saw the rock suddenly transform into an alien ship that now floated on top of the water rather than just below its surface. I knew this to be impossible and thought I must be dreaming, but it all seemed too real to be a dream. There were a few other people on the higher tier and we saw the aliens from the ships jump into the water in hordes and the waves begin to carry them toward us. We ran back down the hall away from the imminent invasion but a large steel door closed in front of us blocking our way. We managed to pry the door open though, but even though the opening (my escape route) was plenty large enough for me to get through i couldn't manage to do it. I was still trying to get through when I woke up.
The most interesting part of this dream to me is that it was the first time I ever remember a dream in which I realized it must be a dream because of the surrealism, but I did not believe it was a dream despite the evidence because it was too realistic in detail at the same time. Also, I should note that the giant waves are a recurring feature in some of my dreams and I think they symbolize threatening circumstances brought about by life itself that are beyond my control. The rest of the dream was clearly influenced by the movies I've watched recently on T.V.: "War of the worlds" and "Transformers".

Utopian Dream

I dreamed today that i was allowed to escape from jail and make my way North by hitching a ride with a young woman in a jeep. We ended up in an odd town where people did not seem normal. I tried to blend in but couldn't figure out how, so i started to get scared and tried to hide but couldn't. When some people who i thought to be police detected my fear they started hunting me and eventually caught me in the open (in public). But instead of arresting me as a fugitive, they gave me some clothes and some food then let me go. It seems they only wanted me to not to be afraid (after i woke up i realized that this was the exact opposite of what the „Justice System” in the real world wants).
Realizing that i wasn't „in Kansas anymore”, i started trying to figure out where i was. I asked nearby people about laws and was told there were none. I wondered how there could be such an organized society without laws (they had free public transportation and obviously a very proactive welfare system). I realized then that if i had remained fearfull after being helped then i might have actually been killed, because in this society fear itself was the only nemesis. But if i were killed it would not have been out of fear, it would have been out of necessity. I then understood that i was in utopia, and i started crying when i realized so. But this utopia was not a place where everyone was always happy. It was just a place where no one was afraid (so you could be happy or sad, without fear).
One other very interesting thing happened in this dream. After i realized i was in Utopia i started to explore. I found myself naturally „employing” myself according to my abilities. I did not have to be told what to do, if i could do something that needed to be done then i just did it. I don't know if or how this kind of economy might work in the real world, but it seemed to work very well in this utopian dream world. Also, one effect of this type of economy seemed to be a lot of arts and crafts. All the „stores” were like art galleries rather than factory outlets, and items were not purchased, everything was „free”. (Though concepts like „purchase” and „free” did not quite fit and such terms would have been as strange to the people in this dream as they once were to the native Americans).

A Lucid Dream

I dreamed another lucid dream last night. I stood on a very high cliff next to a fence that ran along a sheer drop off. I was afraid at first but then realized i was dreaming so wasn't afraid. I stood and looked down and saw a man at the foot of the cliff. I decided to impress the man with my ability to fly. So i jumped off the cliff and flew down to where he was. We greeted each other then he invited me into his house which was built into the side of the cliff. I told him i was dreaming but he did not seem surprised. I asked him where this place (his home) was, but i did not recognise his answer. So i asked him what year it was and he said 1997. I told him i was from 2010. He was still not surprised. I remember being fascinated by the vividness and detail of the dream. Everything seemed perfectly real. I remember looking closely at a whispy green house plant next to where the man sat and thinking how intricately and clearly detailed it was. It did not seem dreamlike at all. I started looking around for something dreamlike or odd. I noticed that the man was wearing some sort of clear plastic face mask that i thought was for some medical reasons. It did not seem odd. But, then i noticed that the back of his skull was smaller than it should be, and that did seem odd. Then i woke up, or rather, i suddenly became aware that i was lying on the bunk in this jail cell. I wonder if i'm still dreaming.