Friday, December 12, 2014

Who Is Mike Payton?

   I often have dreams in which I think and behave in ways that are completely uncharacteristic to who I am when I am awake. Sometimes I dream that I am a person that in real life I would gag at the very thought of being, like a cop, or a politician (I have dreamed of being both of these). And what's even more peculiar is that in these dreams I am completely immersed in the character; I generally do not realize at all that I am not who I would normally be (in some other «waking» world). Last night I had one of those dreams, but the uncharacteristic thinking and behavior was very subtle this time, and all the more interesting.

   In the dream I was tinkering with my motorcycle in the side parking lot of a well lit service station at night (in real life I have never owned or even driven a motorcycle, though I dream of them often and have no real-life qualms about owning one). I noticed two young women nearby and asked them for some information. They seemed friendly and willing to help. Then I realized that I needed something to protect my eyes (i.e. safety glasses --- a very characteristic concern in this case) as I worked on the bike. So, I asked one of the nearby women if she had a pair of old glasses or safety goggles that I could borrow. She said she didn't, but they might sell them inside the service station. I agreed with her and entered the station to look.

   That was when I did the first subtly uncharacteristic thing. I left my motorcycle unattended in the parking lot with the keys still in it, all without a second thought. That is something I would never do in real life. I'd consider it leaving an «invitation» to a thief. But, in the dream I thought nothing of it and entered the store part of the service station to look for some eye protection with no concerns.

   The store was modern, well lit, and spacious. I found a display rack of glasses near the register, but none of these seemed to suit my needs (they were all strange neo-modern «sun glasses» though none of them were tinted at all), so I looked around and found another display of more expensive glasses which did have a pair that suited my needs but were far too expensive (about $80).

   It was only then, as I was examining the expensive glasses that a concern came into my mind about my bike. I thought I'd better not leave it for too long, and then also realized that I'd stupidly left my keys in the ignition. So I hurriedly left the store and, of course, discovered my bike was gone.

   But the women i'd spoken to earlier were still there, so I asked them if they had seen who took my bike. The one who suggested I look for glasses int eh store said, «Yes, Mike Payton did.»

   I couldn't believe my ears! Not only did she see who took my bikew, but she knew exactly who took it! I had to ask again, «Who?»

   «Mike Payton», she said, «I thought it was his bike. He just hit some guy and then rode off on it.»

   I asked if she could spell his name, which she did (though the spelling did not make any sense after I woke up and thought about it, it began «PIA...») and then she lead me around to the other side of the store where there was a pay phone so I could call the police.

   And that was when I did the second subtly uncharacteristic thing of following a stranger into an unknown location and not even taking stock of my surroundings. In other words, I let myself be led into a trap, something I normally would not do in real life (I'm a very wary person, and learned to always be aware of my surroundings while I was in prison as a matter of survival). So, I never noticed the large «biker» character (who was standing in the shadows but still in plain sight). Actually, I did notice him, but just didn't consider the significance of his presence until it was too late; and that's what was so uncharacteristic of me («being aware of your surroundings» precisely means considering the significance of everything around you!)

   I innocently (or “ignorantly”) asked the girl if she'd tell the police what she told me as I headed for the phone. But, before she could even answer, the biker stepped out of the shadows and confronted me. I said, “Who are you?” and he said, “Mike Payton”, of course, and then proceeded to pound my face into the ground.

   That was when I woke up and began pondering the dream. It wasn't until I woke up though that I realized the whole thing was a set up, and I ignorantly helped make it happen. I was as much a part of the robbery as Mr. Payton and his girlfriend, precisely because of my uncharacteristic ignorance. I should never have sent the “invitation” and I should have been more aware (or “conscious”) of what was going on. Then the “crime” wouldn't have happened. That is what struck me about this dream. It seemed like a perfect example of how a “victim” often ignorantly (a.k.a. “innocently”) participates in the crime. So-called “criminals” instinctively look for this “willingness” to participate. I've seen it happen over and over in real life, and have literally “walked away” from many would-be crimes that I “saw coming” a mile away. Perhaps you can credit my experience in prison for this, but I prefer to think of it as the mere absence of a victim mentality. And by, “victim mentality” I don't mean the part before a crime happens; the part that invites, and then facilitates the crime, exactly as I so uncharacteristically did in this dream.

[J.D. December 12, 2014]

P.S. I would argue that the “System” promotes this “victim mentality” in order to justify its “authority” to “protect” us. In defense of this argument I'd offer the fact that any police officer knows exactly what I'm talking about, and yet any effort made to convey this understanding to do general public is quickly suppressed and strongly discouraged for “political reasons”. The consensus seems to be that people shouldn't have to protect themselves; that's what the government is for. The effect, however, is that people “innocently” let themselves be the victims of crime all so the government can pretend to protect the after the fact.

P.P.S. In two separate movies I saw on the prison T.V. the day and day after this dream the lead characters were named Payton. The first I had never seen before (“Ride Along”); the second I had (“Pandorum”). Coincidence?

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Super Spy Quantum Device

I dreamed last night that I was in a stadium sized aircraft hangar that had been built on the crest of a mountain. The hangar was under attack and I was one of the defenders. I seemed to be some sort of coup. We were quickly overrun, and while several small fighter planes were shot down inside the hangar (which was big enough to fly inside), one large transport got off the ground and then crashed through the hangar wall and out into the open.

I noticed that the attackers were distracted by the escaping plane, o I made a run for it across the floor of the hangar toward a door on the other side. When I got to the door I found it locked, apparently by the attackers who wanted to prevent anyone from escaping. And behind me the attack force leader had seen me trying to escape and was chasing after me himself with clear intentions of killing me.

I only had seconds. I was unarmed and defenseless. My only hope was escape. Further away I saw another door, but I knew it would be locked as well. So instead I tried a window hoping the attackers forgot to lock it, and they did!

The window opened and I jumped through just as the enemy leader reached me. Once outside I turned to face my attacker. I knew if I ran that he could easily overtake me. But, as he himself came through the window he would be temporarily off guard, so I attacked at that moment with bare hands.

I grabbed the other man, who was much larger than me, by the throat, high up in a grip that I knew would cause paralyzing pain. I held him like this for a moment, intentionally hurting him even though I knew I could not seriously harm him in this way. Then after a moment I shifted my grip to a lower position on the throat that I knew would cut the blood off to his brain and render him temporarily unconscious; long enough for me to tie his hands and feet with a piece of nylon string that I produced mysteriously.

He began to regain unconsciousness as I was still fumbling to get the string secured, but he didn’t struggle. He seemed to be resigned to his fate at this point, though I fully expected him to fight. I didn’t have time to check my knots as several other attackers had seen us and were only seconds away. I ran behind a wall and tried to hide only a few feet away from where I had tied up their leader. When the other attackers arrived they untied him, and as soon as he was free he ordered them to capture me instead of killing me. He wanted to “make me pay” for what I did to him.

So they grabbed me and pushed me in his direction. Face to face on even ground he had clear advantage and easily put me under his heel, literally, as he began kicking me in the face with the heel of his boot. I thought I was dead for sure, but after just one or two kicks he consulted some sort of information device and stopped kicking me.

The device seemed to be some sort of quantum probability device that could tell him what effect killing me (or any other action) would have on his ultimate political/military objective. Apparently the device indicated that I must be allowed to live, or the greater objective would be lost. It was as though the device could see the future, or at least one small clearly defined aspect of the future; i.e. the “objective”, and anytime this “objective” was altered by so much as the flap of a butterfly’s wing the device would so warn.

With this device, the attacking force had an advantage that could only be overcome by essentially “cornering” the device in such a way that no alternative actions remained that allowed the “objective” to succeed. In other words, no matter what they did the objective would fail, device or not. (it’s interesting to note that prior to this dream I had never imagined such a “device”, though such a device could explain many of the “delusions” I have had in the past regarding the way so many circumstances in my life seem to have been engineered so that certain “objectives” would occur; objectives that benefit our government, not me. It’s also interesting that according to my understanding of quantum physics, such a device could in theory be produced, it would be in essence no more than a quantum computer, which has been in development for several decades now!)

Now, back in the dream, instead of trying to kill me, the attackers took me back to their headquarters, which turned out to be a kind of super-spy agency (think, “Men in Black”). I was to be given a mission, which “they” knew I would not fail because of the device they had.

But, I noticed that another one of their own agents suddenly decided to not do what he was supposed to do (deliver a package) because he knew the device indicated he’d be killed if he did. So, I reasoned the device worked both ways; by indicating what was necessary for success it also indicated what was necessary for failure. But, since I did not have access to the device myself, I reasoned again that if it could be defeated then the best way to do so would be to behave unpredictably.

So, rather than cooperating with “them”, as they seemed to expect me to, I instead got up and simply walked out of the headquarters building, right past dozens of enemy agents, by acting like I knew what I was doing. I made my way to an elevator, which took me down to a sub-basement tram station, and I boarded the first tram I could. Soon I was speeding along through a city that I assumed was Budapest because of the architecture (old and ornate buildings with intricate and foreboding statues carved directly into the structural stonework).

Unfortunately I woke up a few moments later, but not before enjoying some incredibly detailed scenery of a lake and natural cliffs in the distance. The dream was vivid and detailed throughout and seemed to introduce several new concepts that I had never dreamed before, which is why I wrote it here.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Dolphins

A dream about dolphins last night has prompted me to relay a vivid dream I had years ago, shortly after my arrest in 2005. As far as dreams go this one was one of those ones that stand out as inspirational and significant to such a degree that I should have written about it long before now, but never did for reasons that are beyond my conscious knowledge.

Speaking of conscious knowledge, I should first observe an interesting common dream interpretation that I was not aware of when I had this dream, but has a clear and distinct influence on its possible meaning. It seems that while many dream symbols and circumstances are best interpreted by the dream themselves, since they often depend on an individual’s own personal life experiences, some symbolisms appear largely universal and can be commonly understood. One of those is bodies of water, which are said to represent mind and consciousness. A dream about being underwater is typically interpreted as relating to the unconscious realms of mind. Likewise, dreams about being on the surface of a body of water (either swimming, or in a boat; or even in some cases, walking on water) are usually taken to symbolize some conscious aspect of our mental experience.

That being said, and considered for whatever it may be worth, I will now relay my dream without further interpretation.

The first thing I remember from this dream is swimming like a dolphin in a crystal clear bay. It was not a very large bay, only about 20 meters deep, but wide enough to accommodate a medium-sized cruise ship that I could plainly see from beneath the surface as if it were simply floating on a shimmering thin layer of mist (the surface) up in the sky.

The ship was docked off to one side of the bay, which left me plenty of room to romp estatically like a child just released from some unpleasant confines. I did not realize at first that I was a dolphin, but as my body sliced through the water with such ease and I was able to move with enough speed to jump up through the surface barrier into the air meters at a time, I soon realized that a dolphin I was.

And I wasn’t alone. Several other dolphins similarly frolicked in the bay, which was so clear that I could see all my companions as easily as if through ordinary air, though most were far away.

Then one, a female dolphin, began swimming with me. Not alongside, but in an intertwining dance-like manner that made her presence a great pleasure and very intimate. We “danced” like this for several moments, even leaping from the water together as if of one mind. And then an incredible thing happened. We leaped together, as if we both knew and understood what must happen next, straight up out of the water (instead of a normal arching jump) with our bodies intertwined in a kind of dolphin embrace; and then suddenly, as we now flew magically through the air, we became a man and woman (human) locked in such a powerfully intimate and loving embrace as we kissed that life itself seemed trivial, and nothing mattered but our dance, and our love.

The whole experience was very trance-like, but as we floated magically above the water the trance for me broke as I suddenly became lucid and fully aware that this was all just a dream (note the symbolism of my becoming lucid after becoming suspended above the water’s surface). I continued to embrace my lover-companion, but looked around me in wonderment at the incredibly beautiful and clearly magical dream world in which I found myself. Everything was so clear, and the colors so crisp and sparkly. I saw the cruise ship, which seemed a happy thing, and there were structures on the nearby shore that looked like great pillars of some religious temple (definitely not Christian). Everything was so amazing and beautiful that it made me cry, literally, in my dream.

The woman I was with saw my consternation and tears, and asked, “What’s wrong?” with great concern in her voice.

And I told her, “This is a dream. In reality I am in a jail cell, for raping and killing children.”

She looked at me with confused dismay, as if what I had just said either made no sense, or simply did not matter. I felt strongly as though I had disappointed her, not because of what I said, but because I had broken the magical spell of our love for such nonsense.

I realized I did not even know her, or even if she was real. So I asked her, “What is your name?” She told me, “Brenda.” (Brenda was the name of the mother I murdered in order to kidnap the children, which was the reason I was in jail. But, I did not make this association in the dream, nor do I think now that it was the same Brenda.) Then I asked, “Where are you from, in reality?” (I wanted to know if she was a real person also having a dream along with me.)

Instead of answering my question she responded by asking me three questions of her own. I remember that the questions where short and easy to answer with simple facts; something like, “How many moons does earth have?” But, even shortly after I woke up (back in jail-reality) I could not recall her questions, or my answers. I could only recall that she asked three questions that I was able to easily answer, as though the questions and answers themselves had been deliberately blocked from my memory – while every other detail of the dream remained intact.

After I answered her questions she answered mine. “I am from your future,” she said.

What happened next is no longer so clear in my memory as the rest, but I asked her to help me figure out what my purpose was, and what the dream itself meant (or something like that), and she then lead me ashore, and to a desk, where a man sat working, and told me to ask him. Then she left, seemingly glad to be rid of me.

I asked the man the same question, and he gave me a piece of paper with some writing on it. He told me that it was a message from myself. But when I tried to read it I unwillingly woke up. I desperately wanted to go back to sleep so I could read the message, but I couldn’t. That was the end of the dream.

And just last night, I dreamed of swimming with dolphins again, though under quite different circumstances. In this more recent dream I remained human, and I never became lucid, but the primary symbolism was the same, even if the “message” was somewhat different.

I was walking with an associate in a suburban area and he suggested that I go over to a house that was built into a large hole in the ground so that it could not be seen from the surface until you actually walked up to it. He pointed it out, but all I could see was the crater, not the house.

So, we walked over, and as we approached I could see that the house was actually built into the walls of the hole, so that the hole itself remained open in the middle. And then, when I got to the edge of the hole and looked down more closely, I saw that the bottom of the hole was a pool, deep enough and big enough to contain several dolphins, who were swimming about.

I’m not sure why, but I felt I needed to jump into the pool and swim with the dolphins, though my associate (who remained anonymous throughout this dream) warned me not to do it. It was “too dangerous”, he said.

But, of course, I jumped in anyway; or rather, I dove in head first (always my preferred method for entering a pool in real life) even though the surface of the water was a good two meters below the edge of the hole.

I broke the surface and continued straight down to the bottom of the pool where I saw a group of dolphins. All but one of the dolphins swam away as I approached, and he swam over top of me as I swam to the bottom. I knew that most people would panic in a situation like that, as the dolphin seemed to be cutting off my regress to the surface and only source of air. But I knew he was only being curious and friendly. I also knew he was highly intelligent, perhaps even more intelligent than me (as were the other dolphins who had just swam away).

I wanted to communicate with him, but understood that I could not, even though we both clearly realized the other was of comparable intelligence. I rolled over with my back to the bottom and reach up to touch the dolphin above me with both hands. I put my hands on both sides of his head, which had now become a cross between a dolphin and a human face, very “alien” looking, with large round all black eyes staring out from a gray human-shaped face with a lipless mouth and breath holes where the nose should be.

I gently held the dolphin/alien by the head with both hands to indicate my desire for his attention, and I said, “Why can’t we communicate?”

My question was rhetorical and for my own benefit as I knew well that the dolphin could not understand me despite his intelligence. I then woke up in the midst of pondering this same question. I felt as though we couldn’t communicate only because our world, and hence our frames of reference, were completely different. We had no common experience upon which to build a language for communicating to each other.

And those were my dreams. I said that I would not offer any interpretation here, but I can’t help but wonder if the dolphins in my dreams are the symbols my own mind uses to represent intelligent beings that live “beneath the surface of conscious reality”.



[J.D. September 12, 2014] 

Monday, May 26, 2014

The Door Of Death

I just awoke from an interesting dream, and am compelled to write about it, though I have no idea of what significance it may or may not have.

The first part that I can remember seems unrelated to the rest, but I will put it here for completeness.

I was in a college building and late for my first class of the day (being tardy and delinquent in my college courses is a recurring theme in my dreams). I contemplated not going at all since I had missed several classes already and was behind. But, I decided at the last minute to go, and arrived just as the professor was beginning his lecture.

The prof started by reviewing the results of a semi-final exam that I had missed. He kept looking at me in a way that expressed personal disappointment in my performance. Then he proceeded to lecture on some form of highly symbolic Boolean-like mathematics, writing complex characters on the chalkboard that I did not understand.

I quickly realized there was no point in my being there if I couldn’t understand what the professor was talking about, so I left.

I next found myself in the school cafeteria, much more reminiscent of high school than college. I was looking for someplace to sleep, but all the good spots were occupied by other people already sleeping (lying down on sofas and such under blankets).

I was trying to avoid a witch who was going around asking questions about some drawing she had. But, I could not avoid her and she approached me and showed me the drawing.

I was surprised to recognize the drawing as one that I myself had drawn, in pencil, a long time ago (though I recognized the drawing in the dream, upon awakening I have no recollection of having ever drawn anything like it). It was a drawing of a heavy magical wooden door, with ornate symbols carved into it and large wrought iron hinges and latch. In the center was a circle that contained some image in the center that at first I could make out. I told the witch that I not only recognized the drawing but that I was in fact the one who had drawn it.

She suddenly became very excited, and asked me where I had seen the door before, and what did I know about it. I told her that I had copied it from a book. She then directed my attention to a nearby wall, in which the very door I had drawn magically appeared. I stepped forward for a closer look, and then remembered that when I originally drew the door I could not make out the image inside the circle in the center of the door. But now I could see that it was the image of a snarling demonlike dog.

The witch demanded that I tell her how to open the door, which she called “the door of death”. I refused to tell her, and so she threatened me by telling me if I did not tell her how to open the door then the demon-dog depicted on it would be my fate (presumably when I died). I called her a liar, and pointed out that I could befriend and hence not fear any dog (it seemed we both understand that demons needed to be feared to have any power to torment).

The witch became angry at my defiance and threatened then to use her magic on me. She tried to strike me with something in her hand (a wand?) but I grabbed her. At first I only wanted to stop her from using her magic on me, but I quickly realized that stopping her now would not stop her later; I had to kill her in order to rid myself of her threat.

So, I essentially flung her around by her robes and slammed her head first into the ground. She shattered into shards of mirrored glass that scatted everywhere at my feet. She was clearly defeated and dead.

I began to clean up the mess I had made (by killing the witch) which had become a bunch of goo mixed with glass on the ground. Then a couple of popular high school jocks came over and told me that they were very impressed by the way I so calmly and confidently dealt with the witch, and they wanted me to join their “team” (and hence be accepted by the “popular” crowd). I accepted their invitation and agreed to meet them shortly at a popular bar where the popular crowd hung out.

I stopped cleaning up the mess I had made, leaving it for the “dweebs” to clean up, and headed for the bar with my new friends. Then I woke up.

The one thing that disturbs me the most about this dream is the way I accepted the offer of acceptance from the “popular crowd”. In real life I have received such offers (as an adult) and have turned them down as politely but adamantly as I could. I detest such superficial social status, and would rather be spit upon than a part of it. So why in this dream did I accept an offer that in reality would make me gag?

Who knows, maybe this dream reflects a less mature me, or perhaps is some haunting echo of my high school years, when being “popular” seemed so desirable. Whatever it was, it was. 

[J.D. 5-26-2014]

Sunday, March 23, 2014

My Hanging

I dreamed this morning that I attended my own execution. It was a hanging.

The first thing I remember about the dream is being in a courtroom after having apparently been sentenced to death. But, rather than being lead out and off to some prison or another to wait out an appeal, I saw that a hangman’s noose had been strung off in one corner of the courtroom.

The reality of my death at the hands of the people was upon me. But even in this dream I quickly found my philosophical feet and braced against the imminence of my demise with the tried and true realization that we all must face our deaths sometime, and only an unprepared fool would let fear dominate the experience.

So, I was not afraid, but mostly curious, and a little sad that “the people” still believed murder to be somehow just.

The next thing I remember was seeing myself hanging by the neck, except I was actually in the audience of spectators. I even commented about the fact that they had failed to drop my body in order to break the neck. I was told that the intention of this hanging was deliberately strangulation, not disarticulation. But, I told the supposed executioner, I was clearly not strangling because my body was not heavy enough to cause the rope to even cut off my air. And, the fact that I was standing there talking to him was proof (somehow my body was hanging from the rope by the neck while I was in the audience at the same time, so if my body died then so would I). The executioner told me, with some clear uncertainty in his tone, to just wait and see; in time, he said, I would no longer be able to breathe and would consequently die.

I must have left then hanging at this point, because the next thing I remember was returning to the site of the hanging and being surprised to see the rope with no body hanging from it. I was still alive, so I knew the body must be too, and I assumed they gave up and decided to let me live. But, I was desperately wrong!

When I asked where they had taken my body they opened a refrigerator and I saw my body curled up inside slowly freezing to death!

I instantly flew into a rage, and swore that I would bring hell itself down upon their town (of the people who had condemned me). Then I yelled, “Smallville hasn’t seen the beginning of the suffering I will bring!” and then stormed off with nothing but pure malice in my heart.

In the rest of the dream I stormed through town, briefly considering the kind of harm I would do (i.e. kidnap more children? Murder people in public? etc…) but then arrived “home” (which turned out to be unique to this particular dream) and saw my brother, Bruce (who is deceased in real life) waiting for me.

After I woke I wondered why I responded so wrathfully to the hypocrisy that the people in the dream (much like in the real world) called justice. Why didn’t I simply forgive them, the way I have in reality? Am I only pretending to forgive? Does this dream indicate that perhaps I have not really forgiven anyone yet? That I still want “revenge” (i.e. their so-called idea of justice) in spite of all I profess?

It’s something to at least think about. But even if I still have not forgiven society in my heart-of-hearts, at least I’m honestly trying to; that should count for something.

[J.D. 3-9-2014]

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

A Bear Wrestling Lesson

   A few days ago I wrote a letter to a friend expounding on the consequences of living in a soft society where people are expected --- often forcibly coerced - to turn to an inept government for protection instead of learning how to protect themselves in situations where self-defense is the only real protection they have, such as when they are being robbed or assaulted. In my view such "weakness" is the catalyst for violent crime in the first place. But, I awoke from a dream this morning that has compelled me to consider a different viewpoint.

   In my dream I fell from a window that overlooked a wilderness area where two very large bears were foraging. I rolled down a very steep hill and ended up smack between the bears. Realizing the danger immediately i willed myself to stay calm and held out my hand palm down, to the nearest bear.

   I knew that all animals can sense fear and respomd aggressively. So I imagined that the bears were just large dogs, which I am not afraid of. The closest, and largest, of the bears smelled my hand, then, sensing no threat, went back to foraging. The other bear did the same.

   But then I made my first mistake. The bears were both still so close I could reach out and touch them, one on each side of me. I thought that if I tried to leave too soon (i.e. too quickly) that they might decide my eagerness to get away was a sign of weakness and attack. So, intead I reached out again to the larger bear and tried to scratch it between the ears. It pulled away cautiously at first, but then again assessed that I was no threat and let me touch him.

   As soon as I started scratching his head and he realized what pleasure I was giving him he stopped foraging and turned all of his attention to me, much as any anumal would. He wrapped one gargantuan paw around me, pinning me between himself and the ground, and positioned his head so that I could scratch more easily.

   I knew instantly I had made a real mistake. The bear was not going to let me leave at all now. I needed help!

   I figured I could yell without alarming the bears, as long as I kept panic out of my voice. I knew my older sisters were still in the building at the top of the hill I had just fallen down, and that they were near a window within earshot. So I yelled as loud but calmly as I could, "Help! Call the forest ranger!"

   That was my second mistake. It seemed the bear interpreted my yell as an invitation to play wrestle, which for an instant I thought was good, but quickly realized that play wrestling with a 500 pound bear wasn't the same as play wrestling with a 90 pound dog. It could get very deadly very quickly. Fortunately all I had to do was insist on scratching its head some more and the bear decided to save the play wrestling for later. And even more fortunately my sisters had heard me yell and I could see them in the window signalizing to me that they were calling the ranger and help was on the way.

   Then I woke up, and as usual I pondered my dream. The first thing that struch me as unusual was the fact that I called for help from an "authority figure". That's something that I prode yself in never needing to do. I figure if I can't protect myself then I don't deserve to live. But, I had never tested my philosophy in a situation like this before, and it made me think.

   Maybe the "authorities" are like an immune system for society, and the "cops" that I detest so much are the white blood cells. That would make someone like me, who has maliciously attacked other "cells", a kind of germ. Not a pleasant thought from my perspective, but I've never let the unpleasantness of a thought deter med from pursuing it. So this is something I'll never have to carefully consider for whatever lesson it may impart. I suspect that my old viewpoint and this new perspective each have merit. The trick, as usual, will be to find a middle ground where both views can compliment each other instead of conflicting as they do now in my heart and mind.

   I don't know where dreams that make me think like this come from, but I'm still convinced that they don't come from me alone. They attest to a connection that vinds us all, and hold lessons far more valuable than any college professor has ever imagined; if we just pay attention, and listen to them.


[J.D. 1-7-14]


P.S. In case you are wondering how I made the leap from yelling for help from a forest ranger to white blood cells and germs; you have only to consider that the perilous dilemma with the two bears was clearly symbolic of a situation involving people instead of animals. Once I realized this I saw the fault in my logic about expecting help from the "authorities". Sometimes no matter how prepared we are to help ourselves we may occasionally still need help from a professional. The only question is how much help is too much, and how much is too little (and, of course whether or not we should be compelled to seek help even when we don't want it).

P.S.S. My thought and feelings about self-sufficiency vs. government protection are actually far more complex than I have represented anywhere above, but I have simplified my views, as I often do, for the sake of brevity and clarity.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Drama Dream

   I had an interesting and vivid dream early this morning that seemed to illustrate some puzzling aspects about human emotional interplay.

   In the dream, I was som esort of government agent (probably F.B.I., but I don't specifically recall) assigned to work undercover with and prtect another agent who had no field training. Our goal was to illegally sell counterfeit historical ingots that my partner would pass off as genuine artifacts. He was an expert on the artifacts, which is why he was needed in order to pass off the fake ingots as real to a pair of knowledgeable criminals, one man and one woman.

   The buyers were secret Chinese agents, attempting to make the illegal purchase in order to obtain the artifacts for their government (probably as a matter of national pride and heritage). After they were convinved that the ingots were genuine they instructed my partner to meet them in a secluded stairwell in order to exhange them for a very large sum of money (hundreds of millions of dollars in cash that they had with them in a large cashbox). Against my advice my partner agreed to meet them in the stiarwell, and entered the area before I could stop him.

   Then something happened. The Chinese man grabbed the ingots (in a briefcase -sized special carrying case) and ran while the woman attacked my partner with some sort of small pointed instryment (like a sharp pen, but not a pen; a weapon). I intervened by grabbing the hand in which she wielded the device. At first I fought to keep her from stabbing me with it, but then I realized the she was trying to stab herself. But, I was bigger and stronger than she was, and, unlike in the movies these days where dainty women physically overpower men who are twice their size and strength, I soon managed to force her to releae the weapon. Then I slapped her hard in the face in order to convince her she was overpowered and subdue her. It worked, and once she stopped struggling I quickly cuffed her to the stairwell railing and then went to check on my partner.

   He was facing the wall with his hands over his face. I asked him if he was okay, and he said: "No, she got me in the eye." When I pulled his hand away to look I could see that the eye was blackened by some kind of fast acting corrosive poison and I knew I had to get him to the hospital quickly before the poison spread into his blood.

   This is where the dreams become really interesting, for me at least. When i see his eye and realize the danger he is in I have an overpowering emotional response of strong concern. I hug him and hold him tight in order to assure him, and tell him with strong emotion in my voice and tears in my eyes that he's going to be okay as I begin leading him toward the exit of the stairwell to get help. (I just realized as I write this that the reason for the strong emotional reaction could be related to another very emotional dream I had shortly after my arrest in 2005 about not being able to get anyone to help me remove a pencil that was stuck in my eye [see: "A Pencil In My Eye, entered on November 29, 2010].

   While I was helping my partner along, holding him and crying with concern, he says to me, "Nobody loves me THIS much in my life."

   I knew he meant that I was way over-concerned for him and that my emotional response was disproportionate to the circumstances. I quickly gave him the first excuse that came to mind. I said, "I know, but this is for T.V., so just go with it."

   I then tried to explain to him that I had learned how to step out of my emotions while I was in prison as a way to survive the pain and constant fear. It is what prison teaches. Though the pain and fearful emotions don't go away, I learned to disassociate myself from the emotions --- to see them as if they belonged to someone else, not me --- in order to be able to function and do what ever was necessary in order to survive regardless of how I felt. In short, I became an actor, or what i more commonly refered to as a "sociopath".

   I was explaining all this to him as I lead him down a corridor and into a nearby food court. That was where I woke up and thought what an interesting dream it was.


[J.D. 12-24-13]