Date: 01-03-2024

Last night I dreamt about Portugal. It was a fun dream! Both my siblings were there, as were both our parents. It was unclear to me if we lived there together in my house, or we lived together in their (my parents) house, or if we each had our own house and were just visiting either me or our parents.

It started as a documentary, about Portugal. It showed us beautiful drone footage of fantastic landscapes. The climate seemed dry, and vegetation too suited a mostly dry climate. It actually reminded me a lot of pictures from the Californian wilderness, but with a certain Mediterranean influence. It was as if I was watching this documentary that was happening through my eyes, but after a while I seemed to be the narrator himself.

The documentary showed wildlife, lots of fields full of lush green plants, blue oceans, and people living off the land. It also strangely showed me a cruise ship that was crashing into the side of the seaside cliffs, but it was more like a “funny fails” video addition rather than some kind of tragedy captured on film. The footage was also shaking quite a bit where the other shots were cinematographically steady quality.

Now the documentary followed a bus as it navigated the countryside. Me and my brother and sister were in this bus. There was a gradual transition between the documentary detailing their sightings through the narrator and me sitting in that bus pointing out the many things I saw and knew about. I was giving them a tour of sorts, but the bus I think was a touring car or public transport.

We saw deer, though very different from the ones we knew. That made this place seem extra foreign to me. My sister and I argued a bit about what kind of deer this was. The antlers were small and hairy. As we drove on we came round a small hill which was supposedly an old collapsed and inactive volcano. Because of this volcano, the land surrounding the collapsed mini mount was incredibly fertile. We arrived at our destination, which was either my house or my parents’ house. We went inside.

The house interior was a mix of my parents’ house, my own house, and a typical stone Portuguese house. The mix leaned mostly to my parents’ house. My brother lived in the attic of this place, in his old room. He went upstairs. I was in the yard looking out over the fields. The outside of the house was very different than anything I can compare it to in real life. It looked much like I’d imagine a Spanish petting zoo. I was eager to take a stroll sometimes when I had the time, to look for bugs and other little critters. The environment seemed like it would be teeming with this kind of live.

I went upstairs to my old room but it was very different from how it used to be. It was mostly empty. Then I recalled that I only just moved in, so I had to buy all new furniture. My brother seemed to live here a while already, and I was curious to what kind of furniture he had gotten. His taste and mine overlap, and perhaps he had found a good place to buy nice chairs and such. But as I wanted to knock on his door I suddenly remembered that things between us were still tense. As I hesitated I could hear all kinds of water noises from his room. I thought that perhaps he had treated himself to a water mattress.

I walked down the stairs from the attic to the first floor, and in the hallway stood a desk and a big leather chair. The chair was broad, and had rows of silver nails holding the leather in place over what I presumed was a wooden frame. It was a piece of fine handicraft, and it looked like it would be a comfortable chair for me too. This was a purchase my brother had made. I thought to myself I could rest assured that Portugal probably has plenty of places to look for furniture, and that they have quality stuff instead of all the mass produced plastic stuff they sell in The Netherlands.

I had to go to the toilet now. During the whole dream this was a thing. Yes, this again. It is a signature of my many good dreams. I think that my body signalling my mind it needs to relieve itself functions as a tether between the dream world and the waking world, allowing me to better remember the dreams. But anyway. I had to address this now, and saw how my sister closed the door of a very luxurious bathroom on the second floor. I went downstairs and saw while still descending the stairs that my dad opened the door to the downstairs bathroom. I complained out loud why “everyone was using the bathroom right when I could no longer keep it in” and my dad heard me.

But he offered me to go first, and it surprised me. I made sure I understood his gesture: “I can go first?” He said: “Yeah, no problem buddy. I have nowhere to be and you look like you really need to go. I don’t.” I thanked him, and went in. The dream fades out here. I recall the door wouldn’t properly lock, and that through the door crack I saw my mom outside in our beautiful garden hanging white sheets to dry and potting big plants to decorate our fresh garden.

Man this was a good dream! One I really needed after yesterday’s dream. And I requested to have some better dream to write about last night before going to sleep. I actually requested to have a dream about living in Portugal. I also had some other dreams. One was a blatant sex dreams, and although also a lot of fun, this is not that kind of media. Though I guess parts of it were awkward, but oh well. I had a good night. Whoever gave me that; thank you! It was a nice change from the drama and doom dreams of late.

Date: 29-02-2024

I had such a depressing dream last night. I was with my brother. He was a teen, about 13 or 14 years old. I think I was a little older in this dream. Perhaps it was us as we were when he was about 13 or 14 years old, making me about 17 years old. It was nighttime. We were on the move, or perhaps even on the run. We were somewhere we were not allowed to be. We were sneaking around and joking the whole time. It was a forested area with occasional houses here and there. We were roaming the area but we were heading into a certain direction, though I don’t remember why. We’d been here for a couple of hours.

We then heard voices in the distance. People were coming our way. It didn’t seem like they were after us, but it was best if they didn’t see us anyway. I recognised one of the voices as a colleague of mine who teaches mathematics, though as I type this I have no idea if I actually did or if that was just a given in the dream. I actually don’t think I can identify my maths colleagues from voice alone. We hid in some bushes that reminded me a lot of the bushes at our grandparents’ house near the street on the property of the school there. When we dived into the bushes to hide we were barely in time before being seen. I recall the site was a bit sloped.

We were higher up than the people that were approaching us. They walked by down below as we kept quiet, even holding our breaths in as it was dead quiet around us. These people were a group of 4 kids, the youngest, perhaps not even 8 years old, and the oldest a little older than my brother was in the dream. They were bullies. My brother and I were hoping they would not notice us, cause there wasn’t all that much cover where we were at. But the youngest of the group had seen us. I put my finger to my lips as to signal him not to reveal us, hoping for his sympathy. But he pointed us out immediately. There was a slight altercation but nothing much came of it.

We moved on and were heading towards our parents’ house. This house was now situated at the corner of the street of where the student dorm house I used to live at is. Outside on the street in front of the house a police car was parked. It looked like my parents were getting a visit from the police. I worried this was because of something I had done, or perhaps because we were out at night in a forbidden area. We rang the doorbell or knocked. The door was open. The inside of the house much resembled the actual house as it was 10 years ago. In the hallway my dad stood in front of the opened door to the living room. He was just there and didn’t do much.

Halfway down the stairs leading into the basement stood my loudly crying mother. She had her back to us, and she was being held in the arms of someone who I thought to be a police officer. She was crying hysterically, but I could tell she was dramatising it. It was exaggerated. The officer kept saying comforting words to her: “There there. Easy now. It will be okay.” I asked what was going on, and two officers came from behind my dad and stated they had come there on request of my mother, who had issued a complaint against me. “Wait. What?” The officers gave me a letter and left, but the one holding my mother was still there, and started explaining.

It was only then that I noticed this wasn’t an officer, but was actual my good friend RT. He explained my mother had come to the conclusion that I had gone too far. I had played with a ball too roughly, and I had squeezed oranges to make juice too loudly. Indeed I had made orange juice recently. And the ball they were referring to in the dream was a ball that was supposedly a toy we got from our grandfather on our dad’s side. It was the size of a tennis ball, pink and green coloured, and was part of a tennis set of which the rackets were already lost/gone. I had playfully kicked it against the wall a few times when I was outside, some time ago.

The letter I held in my hand was a copy of the testimony the police had received. But this testimony was written by my brother! I inquired with him. He bowed his head and started saying things I was quite sure mom had fed to him. “I had gone too far. It was true. He shared her opinion, and she was right in this instance.” That was the gist of it. I glanced the letter, which was an A4 sized paper copy of a handwritten letter of the same size. There was a lot of text. I read part of it, and it detailed how I had squeezed the oranges too loudly, and how I played with the ball in question in such a manner it could have resulted in the loss of this item, which in the letter was a described as a valuable heirloom of our grandfather.

But the thing was that we all played with that ball. It wasn’t off limits. Grandad left us many things, we just used them. It was ridiculous to suggest I kicked the ball too hard. And the oranges? How can one even squeeze oranges too loudly? The things in the letter weren’t factually incorrect but worded in such a way it portrayed the ordinary things I did in my life as actual acts that showcased how terrible I was and that the police needed to intervene. And it was truly ridiculous what it said in the letter. Clearly my mother was behind this testimony, and she had manipulated my brother into writing it. It angered me they had teamed up against me like this.

I resisted the allegations and addressed my mother and brother: “So I kicked the ball? That is my crime? I saw a ball on the ground, and I kicked it? And I kicked it too hard? Is that what I did now? I kicked the ball with which we all play, but when I did it we almost “lost” the ball? Have I accurately described what I did wrong there? And the oranges? I squeezed them so terribly loud that all the juice was squeezed out of them? And it was so audibly noisy, you had no choice but to call the police? That’s how hard I was squeezing the oranges? That you needed police help to stop me squeezing these oranges? Am I getting this right?” I highlighted how ridiculous their claims were with sarcasm. They all looked like fools after my angry rant.

RT now started to mediate between the three of us, but I had no desire to mend things with my mother, and I felt betrayed by my brother for allowing himself to become her minion again in one of her new games. I was so sick of this. So very very tired of these drama games. And I wasn’t very forgiving to RT either. He should know better than to fall for this kind of manipulation. I ignored all RT was saying to me and focussed on my mom again, who had now started doing something else. I think she was setting the table for dinner, and was pretending that whatever had just happened didn’t happen.

She was all of a sudden completely recovered from her previous hysterical state, like as if the police addressing me now had taken care of her problem. Which was complete nonsense even within her own nonsense, cause I would still squeeze oranges to make juice and play with tennis balls from time to time. I wasn’t mandated to never do any of those things. Nothing changed! I burst out of my skin, and told her she is what roughly translates to “a drama whore” or “attention whore” (aandachtshoer). “Cause you are just manufacturing this drama to get attention!” She pretended to be deeply insulted and perplexed, and pulled the victim card: “Are you calling me a hooker?” “No!” I said: “You are an attention whore.”

She kept focussing on the word ‘whore’ and tried to get me to admit I was falsely accusing her of having sex for money, but I kept affirming the term I used and explained both words in the proper context of my remark each time: “No! I said ‘drama whore’. A whore who craves for drama and attention! That’s what you are.” The dream went on a while and eventually I went with RT, but I was still pissed off the rest of the story, and I can’t recall what I did after this altercation. Man I was pissed. Why did I get so pissed still? I was furious with her, but also quite mad at my brother and RT for allowing themselves to get pulled into this. 

Analysis:

Oh boy. If my dreams predict anything than let that be that I am not Zen about my family situation. I think because I have been reading and translating all these old dreams this process has boiled up a lot of suppressed anger. There is so much residual anger inside me. I exploded, though was able to keep my cool within my anger. I didn’t shout at her, but I spoke with a loud voice. And believe me, my teacher voice is loud. What I have come to see translating all these dreams the past few months is that I am readying myself to distance myself further from this family situation, up to a point where I am spiritually planning to detach myself completely. I do not wish to leave any of them alone, with perhaps the exception of my mother. But even still that last part is just something I might be saying out of suppressed anger. The anger blinds me, so I cannot see how I would wish for her to play a role in my life again in any future. But let me get back to detaching myself. This idea to do that is based on how I think the distance has allowed me to appreciate my dad again. He did have to die for me to fully be able to do that, but near the end as we were apart I think our relationship began to heal on its own, from both sides. I too wish for all the poison to die with whatever ties I cut. When we find each other again spiritually, we can grow new ties without the poison.

But my dreams often have a way of showing what the future has in store for us. I would not be surprised if I find a letter in the mail, or E-mail in my digital mailbox, somewhere in the future. That letter/mail might come from my brother or someone else my mother got to do her dirty work, but it will be the product of that consequence evading witch, She has ‘persuaded’ people before to pick up a pen. I recall the Christmas card me and my siblings received. Also the three letters my dad supposedly wrote before his death, which we never again heard of after I outed her on that. And recently my sister reminded me she also had received a letter from our parents a few years back when she finally got her own house but had no money to put something on the concrete floor in the kitchen. They (my parents) actually belittled and criticised my sister for that specific thing after she had just won custody of her children after two years of legal hell. Should I receive such a letter/mail from my brother or anyone else, I will not read it, but will safe it just like I did the Christmas card appendix. Whatever I will do with it, I will not read it now while I know I am so full of anger. I may never read it. If the dream is any indication, the letter/mail will be filled with exaggerated complaints and nonsense accusations.

But there are more things at play. A neighbour has made a noise complaint. It is the second neighbour to do so. The complaints go a little too far for my taste. It’s not the message, but the package and its means of delivery. If a neighbour comes knocking and just simply says their children can’t sleep because of my garage noise or something, I would stop that very second. By complaining they are doing the same my mother is doing, which is to evade confrontation. I hate that. Just tell it to my face. Maybe a police visit is on the horizon, and in the dream it looks like it will be a group effort involving people I would not expect this from. I am not looking forward to that. I hope it won’t come to this.

There’s a couple of things that I also noticed which I can’t put my finger on. My mom was halfway down the stairs to the basement. Could mean something. I don’t know what. Maybe that she is descending downwards?

My brother and I were young again, both teens. Though also sometimes I was me as I am now. But I was that teen with the knowledge I now have, any way. Maybe this is about old routines?

My dad was there, but took no role. But I did get the feeling he was on her side in this, though he did nothing.

My sister was completely absent from this story, which I am glad to be able to say. This doesn’t involve her.

I think this dream shows me how old pains and new pains are tightly intertwined with each other.

I hope dreams like this aren’t target practise, but can actually serve the purpose for me to get it out of my system. Man, did I feel betrayed, haha.

Date: 26-02-2024

Last night I had some kind of apocalyptic dream. The setting was (I think) Amersfoort, but it was old. It looked much more medieval. And it only was Amersfoort by name; it looked nothing like Amersfoort as I know it. If it was it would be Amersfoort before the great outer defence wall was built. The area was very flat mostly, and there where many canals. D and I had a house here. It was perhaps a homestead or a place at least where we had prepared for an emergency situation like societal collapse.

But this we hadn’t prepared for. It looked to me like the gates of hell had been opened, and out poured a wide array of various demonic creatures. And I do emphasise they were various. There were flying blobs of slime, huge crawling arthropods, zombie-like creatures with large bat-like wings, various dragons, shadow people, you name it. Anything scary, it was here. And the city was under attack by this hellish force. But not just by the demons. Many inhabitants had sided with these forces, though I am unsure whether this was by choice or through some kind of demonic influence.

It started like this. D and I were at some kind of party or city gathering. This was in some kind of conference room, with the typical decorations you’d expect in such a room. Blue carpet, tables in groups with chairs around them, coffee, tea, sugar, cream, spoons, and cups on each table. Some people started behaving weird. They had their dogs with them, little pugs, and they let the dogs do their business in the hallway. It smelled like piss after a while. Their children too started to just urinate at random places.

I was disgusted by their behaviour, and started cleaning up the mess with what I could find. I found paper towels and a spray bottle of liquid soap. Another man helped me. He was an older man, bald. He was surprised to find someone else who had taken up this task. He had only found paper towels, so he asked me to spray areas for him so he could clean. We worked together, until the many people became violent. We had to go.

D and I found my sister, and we bolted out of there. The other ‘normal people’ joined us. We ran into an elevator. There were puddles of urine directly in front of the elevator entrance. I stood in front of the elevator and pointed out the urine puddles to each person who came to flee the scene. Some stepped in the puddles still as they were unable to take such wide steps required to skip over them. I helped where I could until we were all inside. We travelled “through elevator” to another location.

This part of the dream I was alone. The apocalypse had broken out. There were demons everywhere. D and the others were safe. I had gotten to somewhere in the city, but I don’t know where exactly. I saw in the misty distance there was a demon hotspot. It was hard to tell what exactly was going on, but I could see a lot of demon activity. I went closer to take a better look. I don’t know why but I felt I had to somehow. I was afraid but not nearly as frightened as I think I could’ve been.

I climbed houses and castle-like structures to gain height and to close the distance. I moved like Spiderman and was not afraid to fall or something. I came closer. Being up high meant I was safe from a lot of the demonic entities. While getting closer I found my brother somewhere on some kind of heightened wall or path, like a medieval promenade. He was a tad bit younger than he is now, though still a grown man. He had become lost and didn’t know what was going on.

We didn’t even speak about this, I just knew intuitively and he knew I knew. And he also knew I would help him get out of this hellhole. But he didn’t have my ‘Spiderman’ agility so I had to plan our route such that he would be able to follow me. This potentially took us closer to where the demons were. I navigated best I could, though this meant that we did have to “slide” down the side of a medieval guard tower. An easy feat for me, but M was a bit scared. I calmed him and affirmed him he could do it.

But as we were sitting on the top of this tower, readying to slide down, there was a large demon in the distance that was telepathically talking to M. I could barely see that creature through the mist, but he was huge. He looked a bit like the main bad guy from the Mario brothers movie, but standing 5 stories tall at least, and with grey-white paper thin wings. He was saying things to M or perhaps even asking things. His constant probing of M’s mind made my brother scared.

I was somehow able to pick up this telepathic communication. I also could receive M’s responses, and he was submissive towards this entity. However, this was subconscious to him, as there seemed to be no connection between M’s conscious mind talking to me and his unconscious mind submitting to the influence of the demon. I intervened telepathically, and answered one of the questions the creature asked M with a question of my own. The creature was shocked to be defied.

I don’t recall my question word for word but the gist of it was: “What business is it of yours?” I also recall asking him who he was and who he is representing. He gave no answer so I started speculating to him what I think was the case, which amounted to me stating to him I thought he was probably just ‘someone else’s bitch’. This angered the creature, but because he couldn’t see us and because of my confident defiance against him, he didn’t dare to retaliate. He eventually dropped the telepathic link to my brother. This boosted M’s confidence and now we slid down the side of the tower like two ninjas.

I was going to take him to where D and the others were. On our way there, performing many acrobatic stunts to get there safely, we came across more demonic entities that were also telepathically feeding off M’s fear, but none were as strong or big as the first one. I telepathically heckled them in a similar fashion as I did with the first demon. This grew M’s confidence ever more, and the more I freed his mind from demons, the better he became at moving about, slowly becoming my equal in speed and agility.

We arrived at our safe place. There I saw D together with two other people. It were my also my brother, M, and his Chinese ex. They had just gotten back from China after having been there for years or so, due to lockdowns. I looked back at the slightly younger version of M who I had been guiding through the demon invested world, and told him: “Watch this. I really missed this guy. Haven’t seen him in years.” I ran towards older M and hugged him. He was happy to see me too. He talked about being stuck in China and how he had his teeth fixed there. It had cost him nothing: “What a great country.”

I was in doubt whether his dental work would stand the test of time, but it was also a bit of jealousy on my part. M and Y needed a place to stay. D agreed they could stay over at our place, which was also where my sister and my two nieces lived. It was also her place, so she wasn’t living with us, but it was both our place and her place, if that makes sense. We first had to go there, and we found ourselves being challenged by the people who had gone mad and had pissed everywhere before.

We ran, and eventually arrived at our homestead. It was purchased by me and D with the goal of surviving societal collapse, but we had not taken precautions against people going mad like this. The people had guns, and even their children had handguns, but they were all shit at shooting. Especially the children. They hadn’t the strength in their fingers to pull the trigger and aim simultaneously, and so they couldn’t even hit a barn door if they wanted to. They sometimes even accidentally shot each other because they were so inept. They started storming our fortified position, and we reacted by throwing cans of food at them.

This worked! And it worked even better when we opened the cans and threw the slush over them. They got angry and annoyed, and started tripping and slipping. Somehow we were now in a shopping mall, and we were defending a position up high. The mad people were trying to get up to our level via the escalators, but we were still bombarding them with processed foods, and they eventually gave up and moved on. Now we were at a homestead again, though it looked different from before.

Here the dream becomes murky. I recall wanting to take a shower, and my sister too. There were two bathrooms, both on ground level, with a window facing each other. I recall being naked in front of that window just for my naked sister to also walk past her window in her bathroom, smiling at me and waving she then closing a curtain. It was only then I noticed my bathroom had a curtain as well, so I closed it. The younger version of my brother was gone from the happenings in the dream the moment I saw his other version.

Date: 17-02-2024

Introduction:

Last night I dreamt something strange and ominous, but most of it I have forgotten. The few small details I recall make it worth typing out the dream and posting it.

Forlorn Future:

This dream took place at the street where my parents’ old house stands. It was dusk, and the sky was already quite dark. There was a weird haze hanging in the street. Like mist, but it wasn’t white. It was perhaps yellowish brown, and only ever so slightly present. I had come there to take a look out of curiosity. I think there had been some major event that had crippled society. One of the effects of this was a terrible global food shortage, but what ever that was it had not affected me. I entered the house of my parents’. The doors and windows were all missing, so I could just walk in.

Though the house looked to be in a diminishing state from the outside, it wasn’t that bad on the inside. There was still furniture in the living room and the walls were all intact. There I found my brother. He was in bad shape, both mentally and physically. He was in the company of an old woman, who I do not recognise. She was as deeply depressed as he was. But in talking to my brother and her I learned she wasn’t really there. She was the spirit of a woman that lived on the other side of the road, in the house to the right of the family DL. I knew this intuitively. My brother was so depressed that he seemed to have given up on life altogether.

There was no food, there was no one left who loved him, there was nothing. I barely remember any words he said, but I am sure this was the gist of it. Life wasn’t worth living any more. He had endured what ever had happened to society and had lived through its collapse. This experience had robbed him of the feeling of having a good measure of agency over his own life. Apparently others could just come and take it from him, so if they could do that any time they liked, then what’s the point of life? What’s the meaning of life? He told me: “If things like this happen, there can be no meaning to live.” I replied to him: “Of course there is. Life has the meaning you give it.”

This seemed to rekindle some of his will to live, and he raised his head up. Now he inquired about how I had managed to weather the storms of the collapse so well. I never really replied to him, as I didn’t think I could explain it to him, and also because I felt a bit of guilt for it. I had seen this collapse coming, but I had only prepared myself. I had taken no special effort to warn him or anyone other than to publish warnings on my website. But I did offer him something else. In the dream I had wondered about in the neighbourhood somewhat, or perhaps had even taken refuge inside the house on the other side of the road where the DL family lived, but who had vacated the house before I came. And that house had plenty of food.

I convinced M to go and take a look there. He would find all he needed in that house. M got up, and now seemed hopeful. The old woman was gone now. M told me he hadn’t checked those houses for food and barter items, because his friend (the old woman) lived there. Somehow that meant he didn’t go check those houses. I am not sure how, but in this dream this was understandable. It made sense to me. But I didn’t think M knew this old woman was a spirit. I think he thought she was a person like him. M got up and walked outside. I too went outside. As I walked to the road I stopped and didn’t cross it, while M did and proceeded.

I noticed that the house of the DL family had many cars. There were three cars parked on their driveway, and many parked out front along the street. On the garage there were two capital letters. Let’s just assume these letters were F and M, but that’s just to try and explain to you in a sensible way what I saw and concluded, which was logical in the dream, but made no sense to me in the realm where I type this out. In the dream, those capital letters were made out of plastic, or painted wood. Both those letters were on the wall of the garage above the garage door, and one of each of those letters were also on a car. So to be clear; there was a car on the driveway with the capital letter F on the back window, and a car with the capital letter M.

In the dream it was the first letter of each of the first names of the couple that lived there, but also the first letter of Father and Mother, and also for Female and Male. But in Dutch, this is not so, so I cannot explain that here. It was true in the dream though; these capital letters stood for the first letter of each of those, in the Dutch language. In the dream this was the first time I had noticed this, and I thought it was catchy, though a bit over the top, to be honest. Perhaps a bit typical for them? They did like to show off sometimes. It indicated to the outside world who’s car was whose. But then I noticed M was ringing the doorbell of the house to the right, next to the DL family. He was at the wrong house. And what happened next was horrifying.

The old woman opened the door, but she wasn’t in spirit. She was alive. This was her living body. Barely alive, though. It was in such a bad shape, that she barely clung to life at all. She was not just old, but her skin was transparent and in some kind of state of necrosis. Necrosis is a condition that occurs in people who were exposed to ionising radiation, where the cells of certain tissue are irradiated, and wounds appear that cannot heal because the DNA is severely damaged, so the cells don’t have the proper instructions to close the wound. But this woman was completely that – head to toe – and again her skin was see through.

Her skin looked like it was made of ballistics gel. And the moment she had opened the door, she cried out in pain, and I could see M was in complete shock by the sight of her. The old woman collapsed and he caught his old friend, barely managing to hold what little she weight as he was in starving shape himself. But as he caught her, she turned into liquid and I think just died there on the spot turning into a splash of fleshy transparent liquid that poured out of her clothes and covered my brother’s arms, torso, and legs. I saw this and started crying, covering my open mouth. Tears ran down my face at the sight of this.

I cried for the both of them. What a horrific sight. It was like I was watching a movie, and empathised with the protagonist over what must be a deeply traumatic experience. Apparently the old woman had been on the brink of death for a long while, but her spirit had been able to wonder of freely and had befriended my brother. She had kept him company all this time, and probably meant well for him. The scene I saw was heartbreaking, but I could do nothing. I could only watch as my brother collapsed, mentally.

Analysis: 

I am still shaken a bit for what happened in this dream. I first had no idea who the old woman was or what happened to her. I think her intentions were good, but she was a troubled entity. I think the saying “Misery loves company” encapsulates the core of their friendship best. They meant well, but ultimately they would not be able to lift each other out of their individual pits.

I had not been scathed by the societal collapse. I had seen it coming and had prepared. Though I am not entirely sure what this meant, two possibilities come to mind:

1. I was dead, and this was my spirit wondering about. Since my brother was able to talk to the spirit of that woman, it would mean he would be able to talk to my spirit too. I knew the woman was in spirit, but M did not. If I was a spirit myself too, that might explain how I knew. It also explains why I was unable to come to his aid when he opened that door.
2. I was there only in figure of speech. Maybe seeing the collapse coming meant I had taken preparations so that I would stand a good chance to survive, which might’ve meant I wasn’t anywhere near Amersfoort. This means the whole scene must be seen as a metaphor, or I was there through projection in a dream state. I would not be able to help my brother if I am physically far away, even though I would want to help him.

Though what bothered me was that he had undergone this traumatic event because of my encouragement to get up and look at the house on the other side of the road. He did interpret my message the wrong way though. Maybe this means that whatever I said in real life, or will say in real life in the future, will shortly uplift him, but will ultimately result in him taking it the wrong way or making a mistake that results in a traumatic event. It worries me deeply what this could mean.

My encouragement was to go to the opposite side of the road. Perhaps this is part of the metaphor for what this is about. I reluctantly think I know what this could mean. This could be about our mother. Though at first I did not want to invoke the idea this was about the three of us, I now think; why wouldn’t it be? Since translating all these dreams they both have occupied my mind again frequently. It makes sense this old woman is her.

This old woman could be indeed our mother, but her well meaning side. Inviting my brother to come to the other side of the road could perhaps be about how I inspired him to distance himself from our parents too, years ago. To “come to the other side of the road” where I had been and looked around.

His decision to – by mistake or not – open a door that I did not mean for him to open, could perhaps stand for him deciding to live with our mother again. He would eventually discover just how broken she is.

Both the spirit of this old woman and my brother himself were depressed. They were deeply unhappy, and had sought the company of each other in their unhappiness. This could very well be true for both their motivations in real life for keeping each other company.

Choosing to do this, means he will be witness to her collapse. She will succumb to her wounds and will die in distress. Though actually, I do not think this was about her physically dying in his arms. I think this could mean that the good part of her is already dead, as in the dream that part was in spirit. But her physical self is still here, and I think the persona in real life could be represented as a body that is wounded head to toe.

Maybe her bad side will eventually break and collapse, freeing her good side, and he will be there to try and catch her. But he will be barely able to do so because of how starved he himself is at that point. And even so it won’t make a difference, as her collapse will be in such a manner that no one will be able to catch her as her injuries have disfigured her so much.

There are some great pains on the horizon for us, and it seems I can only stand witness and will not be able to offer any aid.

Maybe the societal collapse in this dream wasn’t even (or only) a real societal collapse, but was perhaps a metaphor for the collapse of our family. I saw that collapse coming too, and distanced myself accordingly. I did not want to be part of this family where individuals continue to pass on unhealed pain to its other members. My family has a history of playing pain ping pong. We just keep smashing our pains towards the others. I was not able to explain how I saw this coming to my brother in the dream, and I think that is also true for real life. Whatever I intuitively know, he will need to undergo it himself before he understands.

Date: 18-01-2024

Introduction:

Last night was a really intense night of dream experiences. Most of them were about death, with the exception of the first one, though there was an element of irreversible change, which is what death is too. I don’t remember the first and second one that well. But I do remember what stood out for me. Let me describe them in the order in which I dreamt them all.

Gone:

In this dream I was at mom’s at the house where we all grew up. My sister was there too. Me and my sis were both the adults we are today. My brother, who in the dream lived there again (as in real life), was a younger boy. He was about 12 years of age. The reason he was there was a bit morbid. He had become mentally handicapped. The cause of this was unclear, but there were some hints this “happened” to him. Maybe some kind of accident? Somehow it felt to me like my mother possibly had something to do with it, but in the dream I wasn’t sure if that was just my bias or whether it was complete nonsense. What didn’t help was that my mother was mostly in the way and stalling what we (my sister and I) where there to do. The reason we were there was to say goodbye to the brother we once knew. And it was unmistakable he would never return to his former self. He lived with mom because he wasn’t able to take care of himself now.

Our brother was retarded. My sister and I were there to perform some kind of rituals that would help us move on from this loss. I do not recall what these rituals entailed, just that we had thought of them ourselves, and that they were the spiritual equivalent of “writing a letter and putting it in the casket of the deceased before the burial”. It was a way to help us find closure. Though these rituals we did were weird. I recall my sister balancing two scuba diving tanks on top of each other in her arms, while sitting cross legged on the floor. But our brother was physically alive and still there. And the way he behaved was a mix of what a young 3 year old would do, with the sounds that my father made the last time I saw him alive. The best way to describe that would be to imagine the way Chewbacca from Star Wars “spoke”, meaning short or long bursts of making a single monotone sound. Like he was pretending to be Chewbacca, but without putting in the effort of mimicking his voice itself, only the way he made sounds.

It’s not entirely accurate, but as accurate as I can detail it to anyone without being able to actually mimic what it sounded like with my own voice. Throughout the whole situation my sister was a bit emotional. Not me. I was in some kind of work mode. It had to be done. I facilitated my sister, helped her balance the scuba tanks. My mother was just there. The interaction between us and her was minimal. What was very evident was that she didn’t understand the necessity of what we were doing. In my mind I thought to myself that I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her as in the dream I took it for a fact she has never dealt with or processed her pains and grievances. She just bottled it all up. But I was being an unemotional or emotionally unavailable person myself too. In my mind I just wanted to leave as soon as possible, and thought I’d just help my sis with her rituals, then perform my own as fast as I could to get it over with, and then go home to process it all. I looked at it from a totally unemotional standpoint.

Meanwhile our brother was darting around the living room like a little child, voicing monotone yells and shouts. He would look at what we were doing when passing us by, but would not interact with us at all. He was in his own little world, what ever that was. He did seem happy, though. But then, as I had helped my sister with the scuba tanks and took a step back, I suddenly realised the reality of the situation. It truly suddenly struck me like lightning. My brother was gone. The person with whom I had shared so much fun and sorrow, who understood our form of humour, and who shared his dreams and read my own, the person who I shared a room with as we were little and who moved to the attic into the adjacent room years after I slept there alone, who was my attic neighbour for many years, who would agree with me on some things, and argue with me on others, the person that was there for me when I needed him and for who I would be there if he needed me, was gone. He was really gone.

He was no longer in there. His living being was a shell of the person he once was. It truly struck me out of nowhere. Like my waking mind kicked open the door and shook the subconscious driver at the wheel to face the reality of the situation. I fell to my knees and put my hands over my eyes, and held back my tears. “He’s gone. He’s gone.” I repeated that in a whispering voice a few times. I tried to remain the big guy for a few seconds as to not lose face in front of my mother and sister, until I suddenly didn’t care any more, and just broke out in tears. Almost immediately after I had chosen to let go of my ego, I woke up. My eyes were actually teary and my cheeks were wet.

Goodbye:

This dream was truly bizarre. It was short, also, though perhaps it was much longer, but the rest must’ve escaped being captured by my conscious mind. The premise was simple. I was dying. I laid on the ground. D was with me. She was sitting on the ground with her legs straitened out in front of her. My head rested upon her upper legs. She looked at me, and I looked at her as I looked up. I don’t remember where we were. All I know is that it was outside, somewhere. And I just looked her in the eyes. Her eyes were teary but she smiled at me, while stroking my hair and cheeks softly with her hand. It was peaceful. Her smile would sometimes combat a sad frown. She was very sad to see me go, but she didn’t want me to see her pain. I could see it in her eyes. I just knew it.

She would sacrifice her own feelings just to give me a peaceful moment of passing. And I thought to myself, I would do my best to stay with her as long as I could, even in death. I set my mind to becoming her guardian angel. We had locked eyes for a long moment, until a sunbeam appeared out of the clouds and landed on my face. It felt nice and warm. It was very pleasant. I looked away from D into the sun, squinting my eyes. It had a warm colour. But then I saw details in the sunbeam. The light became brighter, but as it became brighter I was less blinded by it. And before I knew it, a tunnel of light appeared. “I’ve been here before.” I thought to myself. And in an instant, I allowed myself to be taken into it, and immediately woke up.

When I woke up though, I felt so much shame. Maybe even a little scared. The mindset I had just before dying, to stay with D for as long as I could, evaporated like water on burning stove the instant the tunnel took me. It was there, and the next moment it was gone. I had completely forgotten about her the moment that tunnel appeared, and the thought afterwards while I was in my waking live, of her staying behind with my physical remains just kills me. It was such a horrible thought. I don’t want to leave her behind, but if death forces me I thought I’d be missing her over there too. As I laid there in bed, next to her, I felt guilty, and ashamed. The dream was still so fresh, that it felt to me like I had abandoned some version of her, who was now alone to cope with her loss of me and who was now tasked the impossible; to bury her loved one. I wish I could go back to her to tell her I’m okay.

But besides this feeling of guilt, I also woke up with a date. That date was in my mind vividly, but because of the shame and guilt, I started recalling it while it was fleeting my mind again. What I do remember, I memorised. Though I will not name it here, I have it written down somewhere. I don’t know the year, only that it possibly ends with 9. Could be 2029, could be later. But I am really not sure. I am sure however about the month and day, and even a timestamp of 6 PM. It felt like it was not too far into the future. I do not know if this was the date this happens, or another day of significance. It did seem important. Though I am convinced this is not for you to know, but only for D.

Where are you:

We were going out to eat. My sister had arranged it. Our family was complete, including dad. We were all much younger, except maybe me. After dinner we would see a movie. My sister wasn’t sure if the place was nice and if the movie was any good. I said the reviews were mixed so it’s probably not a master piece but we’d enjoy ourselves. The restaurant turned out to be a crappy small shed. Inside was a counter, manned by one person, and kitchen which could barely fit two people was manned by two. Outside in front of the shed stood a few wooden picnic tables. I suggested we could of course just cancel here and eat somewhere a little more fancy. My sister didn’t want to switch. We sat outside on a picnic bench. There was another family, consisting of three people, seated at another table. I was joking with them about the place’s lack of class, cause they were complaining about how it was advertised as a much fancier place.

At one point I had to really take a leak. The shed didn’t have one, but there was a playground over on the other side of the dirt road the shed was located at. The playground was grassy, had swings and slides, and a sandpit. Your typical playground. On the edge of the grass was a toilet building, which was a facility put there for parents who’d spend a day there. It was quite big. Inside the building were showers, baths, vanity units, and sinks to was your hands. It was quite luxurious. The interior was polished marble stone and hard wood. I couldn’t find the toilet though. Then I saw another door. It lead into a shower room. I opened it and it was such a big contrast to the luxury that greeted me upon entry. It stank, and it was all grey, with shower units against the wall, without any privacy covers. There was one single drain in the middle. And perhaps most telling; there were puddles of what clearly was pee all over the place.

Apparently everybody before me had taken the same route, unable to find a toilet in this toilet building, and ending up peeing here. It made me gag, but I mustered my will and tried to breathe through my shirt. I peed straight into the drain. It kept coming. I felt no relief. It just kept coming and coming. At one point I heard people come in and audibly question where the toilet was at. It would be a matter of seconds before they would come in, and I didn’t want them to think I peed all over the walls and floor. So I stopped and went back to the nicer part of the building, quickly washed my hands, and went back outside. I don’t even think the other people saw me. I went back to my family, but as I had walked half way across the field of grass I realised I had forgot my phone. I had put it down on the sink counter when I washed my hands. Shit!

I rushed back to the toilet building, but I was stopped by an invisible force, pulling me back. It became increasingly more difficult to close the distance, until I walked on all fours. Still I couldn’t get any momentum, and looked back behind me. All I remember is darkness. It held me. It had no form, no features, nothing. If I said it looked like a cloud or void, that would still be way too specific and therefore inaccurate. It was nothingness. In front of me was the world in the dream as it was, and behind me was nothing, trying to hold me down. And the most disturbing thing actually was that I recall thinking to myself: “Damn it, this again…” This again? Now that I am awake while typing this, I wonder what I meant. In the dream it was a recurring thing apparently. When I thought it, I meant it. It had happened before. Maybe in another dream which I do not remember in the state of mind I am in while writing this? And yet I thought it.

But regardless of what I thought, I didn’t give up. I looked back at my destination and tried to go there still. I was in a bit of a panic, but strangely enough not even because of that darkness at my feet, which apparently was unwanted but not that strange. No, I was in a bit of a panic because the people who had entered the toilet building didn’t look too honest to me and I didn’t want them to take my phone. This is seriously how I felt. The darkness thing was mildly annoying somehow, though thinking back to it I cannot understand how I could’ve taken that so lightly. In the dream I couldn’t break free, so I turned to one of my signature moves in the dream world: Teleportation. I imagined myself going to that place, and going inside, and taking my phone from the sink counter.

And I succeeded and didn’t succeed at the same time. It was like I split reality in two, and in one reality I broke free, but not in the other, but my consciousness remained in the twilight of that split. I was free and not free at the same time. Though in the reality where I broke free I took my phone and put it in my pocket, and from there the darkness faded. I was now back in the dream situation. And as quick as the situation turned, I forgot about what had happened like it was magically snapped out of my conscious mind. I went back to the shed. Considerable time had now passed and I went to find my family. They were no longer sitting at the table, so I figured they had moved on to the theatre, which was also near the shed.

I think I went down a stairs into a basement under the shed to find a cinematic enterprise of sorts. Muffled bombastic music sounded from behind the doors. The movie was well underway, and it was about dinosaurs chasing dinosaurs, while pickup truck with the protagonists drove along side them on a dirt road with big trees along the side of the road between the field where the large reptiles ran and the road. The CGI was so incredibly perfect that I wondered whether or not this could actually be real. It became so real that eventually it came true. We (the family) were inside that pickup truck, while big brown coloured predatory dinosaurs hunted and killed big greenish herbivores. It was very graphic. Scary even, cause although the predators did not really seem interested in us, it was evident that if they were we had no chance at all. 

It got so scary in fact, I actually woke up in the dream in my old house. I went downstairs and found mom in the living room with my aunt on my dads side. They were sitting at the coffee table in the back of the room, talking. Mom pored me a cup of tea. My aunt noted I looked a little pale. I told her I had a few intense dreams, and one predicted my death. As I told her, I didn’t realise I was still inside the third dream. My mother confirmed to her I have these prophetic dreams sometimes. My aunt didn’t really seem to want to hear what I had to say, and seemed to listen reluctantly because of the gravity of the subject in the dreams. I eventually landed on the dream I was having, still, with the eating dinner and movie, and suddenly detailing how some dark entity without any features tried to stop me from doing what I was doing. I suddenly realised how completely insane that was, and must admit I experienced a fair amount of self-pity. I stared at the table, and softly asked: “Why do these dreams keep happening to me?”

My mother and aunt both had nothing to say, and just sat there, awkwardly. But I got distracted by the sound of a dinosaur outside somewhere in the distance. I left the table to check it out, ran upstairs and looked. From the attic I could see a T-Rex crying out over something. Perhaps something from the movie, where its partner was killed by us? I went downstairs and exited the house through the backdoor. Outside in the garden I still heard the dinosaur cry out. It sounded a bit like a whale song, but not peaceful or blissful at all, as those tend to be. No, this sounded quite menacing. Like an evil whale, if that makes sense. The dream now merged itself again with elements that had separated it first. I went back inside, and exited again through the front door. My brother came with me. Our little niece was there too, but she remained inside as we kept the door slightly opened.

But mom closed it behind us, in a typical “we’re not heating the neighbourhood” fashion, as if these weren’t circumstances where this would not apply, cause there was a freaking dinosaur outside. So a bit aggravated we knocked, cause we hadn’t a key with is. Mom ignored us, but our little niece was able to open the door for us. We quickly took the key (which was actually the key I have for my own backdoor in my own house) and closed the door behind us as we went outside again. We went around the house, but the T-Rex was near, much nearer than we thought. We went around the corner and saw it. There was also another large predator. It was a little darker brown in colour. As soon as they spotted us, they both charged at us. We bolted back towards the house in a panic, and we fled back inside, barely in time for them to not see which way we went.

Now the house seemed empty, like we were the only ones in it now. The dinosaur appeared on the driveway. We could see its distorted image through the stained windows of the front door. My brother panicked, but I knew what to do. In a split second, I grabbed him, pulled into the kitchen, and hid ourselves under the kitchen counter. There were bottles and other kitchen stuff on the counter which allowed me to risk a peek over the counter through the kitchen window. The large head of predator appeared, and it darkened the kitchen. It was scary as fuck! But my brother wouldn’t sit still. I kept insisting he shouldn’t move, in a whispering voice as not to make too much noise, with the dinosaur still investigating the interior of the house through the kitchen window. But my brother just didn’t listen. It was like he kind of wanted to be caught or something. Yet, he was visibly scared too. And with good reason, as there was a seven foot long head with teeth the size of milk bottles eyeing the kitchen through the window. It was so scary.

Eventually, both dinosaurs moved on. Then our dad appeared to the scene as he walked into the kitchen. He saw me and M cowering on the ground, and he started laughing, and asked what we were doing. We told him about the dinosaurs. He laughed some more, and insisted they aren’t dangerous. My brother and I got up, and went to the front door. In the distance of our street we saw the two predators looking for us still. We ever so gently opened the door. At the sound of the door opening they looked up and turned their heads towards us, and came charging at us again. We again closed the doors but the terror lizards did not give up this time and broke the kitchen window. I woke up in a bit of a panic. I had to pee like a horse, by the way.

Date: 15-01-2024

Last night early in the morning I dreamt I woke up next to D, and had to go to work for the Sinterklaas celebration. We would be travelling by touring cars, departing from school, to a mystery location. The school was VSC, and it was unclear whether I was the teacher or student. Our house was situated near the school, the window of our bedroom would overlook the school courtyard. Our house looked differently, but elements were the same. It looked kind of fairytale-ish. As I laid there waking up I saw a figure being projected on the wall. It looked like someone had edited the “greedy Jew” meme with Sinterklaas attire. I knew they (friends from school) were doing this, perhaps playing a prank on me knowing I sleep near that window. D had noticed it too, and I explained to her what I thought was going on, but then noticed that our wall paper also sported a figure that with squinted eyes looks like that. I wasn’t sure what I had seen now.

I got up and went to the other room. It was dimly lit by decorative lights D had put there, in decorative bottles. It looked quite nice honestly, and it meant I could move about without having to switch on the bigger light, allowing my eyes to get used to light slowly. I looked outside through the bathroom window and saw the front porches of all the houses looked very different. Where the kitchen window is normally now were large glass sliding doors. The neighbour opposite to us on the corner even had hers opened just slightly. The weather must’ve been warmer than expected. I put on my clothes and went to go to school. But to go there, I had to crawl under cramped holes in wooden walls a few times. And every time I made it through, I realised I forgot to bring something from the other side. I was running late.

And the travel time was apparently at least half an hour by bus, and I know why. After I had found my way to the next room, I had to traverse a distance of about 50 metres through what I can only describe as a magical forest. This magical forest was inside my house, but once inside you were in the outside with this forest and its many creatures. I then had to find my way towards some wooden tree house, climb in through the many small doors and rooms, and eventually would end up in my parents’ old house in Amersfoort. I would end up in the kitchen should I succeed. From there I had to journey to VSC with public transportation. But I never got there. I tried though but I needed to take a very specific route to the tree house, and inside I too needed to enter the rooms in a specific succession. And I didn’t know the right order at all. It didn’t help I also felt rushed because I was running late.

I walked back and forth towards the tree house and was occasionally bullied by a group of magical lizard crows. They were shiny black. Their feathers were thick and had lizard scales. They looked quite fascinating actually, but they were bullying me, flying at me, picking me with their beaks. But they were a minor nuisance, I didn’t really pay too much attention to them, and was actually focussed on my task. Whenever they came back, I just squatted them away as if they were flies. They would retreat to the low treetops, even those on the tree house. But I just couldn’t find the right sequence of route. I climbed over and through thick bushes, even though there was a path. But I already tried that path a few times now with no success. And after a while, I gave up. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it. There was no way I was going to be on time. Now these scaly birds got my attention. Maybe the answer laid with them? This was a magical forest after all. So I approached the tree house again, and pretended to give it another try. But I was actually positioning myself in such a way I could gain height fast and jump them.

I climbed the tree house from the outside, and noticed the trees themselves in this forest had reptilian properties. The leafs were scaly too, and they looked dark greenish. Spikes and thorns also were scales. It was actually very beautiful. The biologist in me was truly curious about how this works physiologically. How did this evolve? What does ‘the tree of live’ of this reality look like? But I had other things on my mind. I wanted to figure out how to get out of there. The urgency was gone. I was too late. The touring cars left without me. I had accepted this ‘defeat’ if you will. But in order to get back home I too needed to fulfil some quest and I thought these reptilian birds held the key. Oh, by the way; there was no panic or danger or any thing. I felt fine. So, I got near the top of the tree house. I could hear the birds squeak loudly. They had no idea of my plan. As soon as I jumped up on the treetops they froze in place for a second, just to disperse in panic.

“Hahaaaaa!” I exclaimed, and grabbed one of the birds that didn’t get away quick enough. But nothing happened? Meanwhile the other birds were still in the process of fleeing, and were tumbling over each other to get into a flight position. So I grabbed another with my other hand. Nothing. Another, now holding two birds in one hand. And another with the other. Still, nothing. I started collecting birds as if they were logs laying on the ground. They didn’t even try to get away once I held them. I collected them and kept picking them up, carrying them on my arms, and under my armpits. I really got carried away with it, but I noticed some of the birds were smarter than I thought. Much smarter. They evaded me and even tried to communicate with me telepathically. But I didn’t allow it and was very emersed in my game. Until I discovered why the birds were so easy to pick up. They laid piled up in front of me to keep me from finding something. There was something under the pile of birds from which I was collecting them. It was in stealth mode, and it de-cloaked when I picked it up. Some of the birds (the smart ones) looked at me and contacted me again telepathically. What I held in my hand was a big black leather glove.

But this was not a glove made for a human. It clearly was alien. It had more digits, and some digits even had more digits themselves. I distinctly remembered the thumb and pinky both had 3 more digits. The smart birds tried to encourage me to put it on, but I still somehow blocked two way communication. Still, I was curious. I put my hand in, and tried to find a way for my fingers to settle in one of the pouches in a way that seemed most fitting. It was a bit awkward but eventually I found a way, but then I felt a little pinch in my right pinky. I pulled out. There was a little caterpillar that was eating its way under my skin. I pinched it between my nails and pulled it out. It was a white caterpillar with a reddish brown head, and was otherwise quite featureless. I was a bit shocked, but still a bit in a playful mood. What was this? Could this be some alien parasite? Is this why some of those birds are so smart and telepathic? I wasn’t sure. Somehow I thought this could be a parasite that would turn its host into a being that would fit that glove. But it could also be an innocent larvae that was hiding in the glove. Should I kill it?

I didn’t want to kill an innocent creature, but if this was in fact an alien parasite I thought it be better if it didn’t find a host. So I decided to end it. Take no chances. If it was innocent it would’ve died eventually with all these birds everywhere anyway. And it did after all try to crawl under my skin. In one swift move I squashed it under my feet. I was now somehow no longer in the trees but on a concrete floor in a featureless white alleyway, with the occasional window and door here and there. The intelligent telepathic birds were still there looking at what I was doing with interest, still trying to connect to me, but I was still not acknowledging them. Because I didn’t want to risk another caterpillar incident, I checked all the finger pouches, and in one of them I felt a blockade. There was something lodged in there, which I started to try to push out. It felt big, filling the pouch. But it were random items; a toy car, a piece of glass, random things of no interest. I cleared out the pouch and tried on the glove. When I put it on, I found the best way to fit it quicker. And as I had it on, I saw two more laying cloaked near where the smart birds were. I could see through the cloak, and I think that was because of wearing one such glove.

I am not entirely sure but I think in the dream the birds were under the control of the gloves, or the gloves excerpted some kind of influence over them. In the dream it wasn’t evident but looking back I think this is why they got to be so seemingly smart. The glove I had was a right hand. With it on I seemed to be able to control certain things of reality. The flow of time could be sped up or even slowed down, I could erect force fields, things like that. Though I knew I could do those things, I had no idea how. Through pure luck I found out that if I were to signal someone to come to me, time would slow down and come to a halt for a few seconds, just to speed up faster to catch up with the time around it. It was amazing, but I could not reproduce it. But what if I had two gloves? I turned to the birds and picked the up the glove that was a lefty. Through the power of the first glove I could see there were no caterpillars or other surprises waiting for me inside. I put it on. There I stood with these huge things on my hand, like I was a young boy who tried on daddy’s motor gloves. I now felt like I had a better understanding of how to wield this alien technology, but I still was untrained.

It seemed to require a certain level of skill to master these abilities. I was able to better perform my ‘slow down time’ trick, and I started pranking people on the street with it, slowing down time, placing things around them somewhere else, releasing my hold on time, and then watching on as they stood there all confused. The smart birds had now turned into people and they stood there as if they were having fun, clapping their hands with every new trick I performed. It was a really delightful and fun situation and I felt like I was a child with a toy. I woke up because of the noise of hail on the bedroom window.

Date: 08-01-2024

This dream started in the bedroom of my current house. I woke up from fireworks and what I think were the horns of big ships on the lake nearby. D and I pondered what that was about but then we realised it was the 21st of March, and in the dream that meant a day of celebration as the days were going to be longer than the nights from that date on. I went down stairs.

On my way down the stairs the scene changed, and it morphed into the stairs from my childhood house. I went downstairs in that house. Outside it was still dark, as if it was a mid winter morning (or even still night?) The windows that had curtains had them drawn closed. It was quiet in the house, as if nobody was up, but I could see in the kitchen on counter there had been someone downstairs already. Breakfast stuff was laid out. I went into the living room and saw more signs that someone had been downstairs. The living room was the way it was long before my parents got new furniture. Everything was the old stuff, except the large round coffee table.

The TV stood at its old location, and it was the old bulky TV with the old silver VCR. Side note; it is amazing to see how much details of this setup I recalled from this dream. Any way. The TV was switched on but wasn’t set to a device or channel, so it showed static. There was no audio, though a very high pitched sound was audible from the TV, as it always used to do. After watching TV for a while you got used to it, but in this dream as I was somehow just only visiting I had gotten de-used to it. Next to the TV being switched on, I also saw some VCR tapes laying on the ground. I puzzled it together in my mind and concluded my dad must’ve been up all night trying to videotape something on TV. Something he did not want to lose.

I poked around with the TV installation a bit to see if I could figure out what exactly he had been trying to do, thinking maybe I could assist him with it or something. But after concluding I had no idea what he was trying to do, I got up and saw that there was a little girl in the rocking chair of my mom. I recognise her face as one of my students, but she was much younger in this dream, plus she wasn’t one of my pupils. She was instead a sort of adopted daughter of my sister. My sister had apparently taken on the task to take care of this child, which was a friend of her two daughters. I greeted her, asked her what she was doing here. She answered she was staying over. I couldn’t recall her name and I didn’t want her to notice, but because of this the conversation was a bit awkward.

When the short conversation was over I walked out of the living room, and thought to myself I should’ve just called her “sweety” as this kid was just really treated badly by most adults in her live, and she might’ve found it comforting to be addressed in a friendly manner. I thought the way I handled the conversation was typically silly stupid me. In the hall I ran into my brother, who I briefly talked to. We even went back into the living room and we both noticed we no longer heard the loud high pitched noise from the TV. I talked to him about it, and how we got used to that sound but that it was still there. I went into the hall again, and found my sister there this time, who was getting ready for school. She had her backpack opened, and she was putting stuff in it.

She showed me some large pears she found upstairs in my refrigerator. She asked if it was okay if she took them, and asked whether or not they had been in contact with figs, cause she was allergic to figs. She showed me her hands had red stains of inflammation where the pears had touched her skin. I said yes, even though that was a lie. But she wanted to take them anyway. I plead to her, asking her not to take the pears, as I actually still wanted to make a dish with those pears. They were home grown (and I actually have home grown pears upstairs in my refrigerator). She got clownish, and said “okay” extending her arm holding a pear, and when I reached out she dropped it. She was being a child. I didn’t know how to respond, and said I didn’t like that she did this. She might have apologised, I am not sure. We now also talked about the TV making that high pitched sound, and how it was weird you got used to it after a while. She agreed.

I went upstairs, and found my dad in the hall on the first floor. But I didn’t see him as he was at work behind the curtains that were drawn in front of the window. He had all his tools laying around, and was working on hanging up another pair of curtains between the window pane and the other curtains that were already in place. He was clearly busy. I don’t think I even said anything to him, except maybe a “hi dad”, but I am not even sure about that. I stepped into my old childhood room. From the closet doors I had a few blazers and sport coats hanging on clothing hangers. I was looking for my phone, but instead of finding my new and old one, I found I had two old ones. One was my own, and the other was the same brand and model, but in a slightly different leather case. I must’ve somehow taken someone else’s phone thinking it was my own. I was going to deal with that later, I decided, so I put them back and walked back into the hallway where I sneaked past my dad.

I went up the second stairway on my way to the attic, into my old room. It was a combination between the room I shared with my brother during our childhood, and the room as I had it with all the animals I used to keep there. As I had back then there were branches and small trunks hanging from the ceiling for my pet iguana to walk on. In the dream the animal was deceased as in real life. My wife was in the room also, and perhaps later on my brother came to have a look too. I reminisced about how the large lizard would crawl on the trunks and how much fun it had. It was such a lovely time. I felt all nostalgic about it.

The rest of the room looked like part childhood, part teen room. There were posters hanging everywhere depicting dinosaurs, just like the room I had shared with my brother during our childhood. We both were very much into dinosaurs when we were little boys. My wife D suggested we change some of the posters and replace them with other things, but I really didn’t want to change anything about it. I became a bit obstinate in my demeanour. She let it go after a while. I thought to myself I could’ve handled that better, and realised I was being unreasonable. Why not change it up a bit? It worked out fine last time she had changed things in our own living room in our own house.

In the dream I then realised we had a “full house” meaning we were all there. But in the dream this was a coincidence. I thought of how it was such an incredible coincidence we were all there, as D normally doesn’t even come here, and me and her don’t even normally live there, and how my sister also actually lives somewhere else, and how my dad is normally dead. It was such an abstract thought, looking back. I lost track of the dream after this.

Analysis: 

I called this dream “behind the curtains” as it was somehow a dream that took place in the old house where all curtains were drawn, and my now deceased dad was even hanging up more. He was working behind the curtains. I am sure that is a metaphor for him still being busy in what goes on in that house. I think he hasn’t given up hope for a union of some sort, and the healing of old pain, while on my part I have to admit I no longer have hopes for that. Not in this life at least.

It was a run in with nostalgia. I am unsure who the little girl is supposed to be. Maybe that is the child version of my sister herself. She has come more and more in touch with herself, and much of her unresolved pain comes from her childhood. Maybe this little girl is now under the care of the mature woman that my sister has become.

It was dark in the house, and the curtains were closed, meaning people outside could not see what was going on inside. Maybe this is symbolic for how my mother keeps things that are happening in the house hidden from the outside world.

The house showed signs that people lived there and were doing things, but I had to look for the people who lived there. When I came downstairs it looked desolated. There were signs of activity, but no activity at that time. I do not know what this means. Maybe that people there live secret lives now? Maybe that the things that happened there are in the past and what once made this a lively household is now only an echo of that past? I don’t know, but it was a thing that stood out to me.

I truly don’t know what the discovery of another person’s phone in my possession was about. In the dream it didn’t feel like it wasn’t mine, but it still wasn’t. I recall now also checking the battery on both old phones, and the foreign phone was flat. I felt like I had discovered I had another phone I forgot about somehow. Maybe this is about a property of my personality that is not mine but which I mistook as being me, or something that is me but which I forgot I was? Or perhaps it symbolises my old ways or habits?

My dad had been using his old equipment to capture something on tape. He was often concerned with losing experiences in real life, and he had taped a large amount of Formula 1 races for example. He was a very thorough collector of such things. It looks to me my dad was trying to make sure something of the old days wasn’t going to be lost to time. He was trying to save a certain experience. I think this might relate to him working behind the curtains. And being dead and all means we don’t see him working, but he is still working there, using the tools he knows how to use to save what he doesn’t want to lose. 

It saddens me a little bit that my dad might be trying to save the past while his oldest son has given up on that. I just can’t see it happening. Mom won’t change. She is like the ring of power, and intoxicates people into conflict. At least, that is how I experience her. There is no doubt more going on in her than just the bad in her, but for me that is the part of her I no longer accept, which means in my case I don’t want her totality in my life.

I’m not sure about the ship horns and fireworks, cause 21st of February is not a day of celebration in my country (as far as I know), and when I dreamt this it was still mid winter. Maybe the message was that there would be new light to celebrate soon?

Date: 23-05-2023

This dream began somewhere in a theatre of sorts. Maybe a bar or restaurant. There were round tables where people were seated, and there was a podium. The people were eating and drinking, the vibe was good, they were enjoying whatever entertainment was going on on the podium, but I cannot recall what that entertainment was. I entered the spacious room/hall and found myself a welcomed guest by most. I wasn’t super popular, but a lot of people were generally glad to see me.

I was with a beautiful blonde woman. She accompanied me but there was nothing going on between us relationship-wise. But I was quite fond of her, though she was very much out of my league. I could tell she took a fancy to me too, but nothing had come of it. I did think that being received that well into that place by others raised my chances with her though. We walked around, met up and talked to a few different groups of people at different tables.

But then the vibe changed suddenly. The room had been quite light, as a bright evening sun had been shining through the side windows and the windows in the ceiling throughout the evening, but the ambient light suddenly and quickly dimmed quite dark. The pleasant chatter in the background was now replaced by frightened silence, and the room turned darker and darker as two figures appeared in the room.

It was an older man and a women, also old but significantly younger than him. You couldn’t tell they were old by their posture, as both were in excellent shape, but you could by their faces and the way they carried themselves. But they were no ordinary people. In fact, they weren’t people at all. They wore capes, and had sharp teeth. They weren’t vampires in this dream, yet their description quite accurately matches your average old ‘black and white movie’ vampire. But as those tended to be almost comical, these figures were truly ominous.

I think I instinctively knew what they were. They were demons. And the woman that I had accompanied was of interest to them. Somehow I knew what was going to happen before it was going to happen. I knew they wanted to get on the podium and frighten everyone, then “take” my friend as they were convinced she was their daughter. I don’t think she was their daughter, but I knew that was a technicality these demons wouldn’t care about.

As they walked slowly ominously towards the podium, smiling malevolently at every frightened face staring at them, they passed us. I was a bit frightened too, but I was able to compose myself. My friend was very scared. As the two came closer to the podium it became darker and darker. It got so dark that you could barely see anything, but things remained visible because as our eyes adjusted we could see that everything in the room had a blueish hue as if the room was illuminated by a single black-light.

I decided to intervene. Somehow I found the courage to stand up to them, and I did. I grabbed the man by the shoulder and told him “Leave your daughter alone!” His smile shifted to a vile angry look, full of contempt. He spoke not, but everything about his reaction screamed “How dare he touch me..! How dare he speak to me..!” He wasn’t used to being confronted. His female companion tried to come between us. She had the sharpest nails and tried to scratch my face with a swift sweep of her hand.

But I fought back, and actually balled my firsts and threw a few punches. These punches landed quite awkwardly on her torso as she was two steps on the stair up the podium ahead of me. But it didn’t matter cause these punches landed like lightning strikes. With each punch that landed a loud thunder accompanied it, together with a flash of light that for a split second would light up the room. I was totally surprised. So were they.

But she persisted and I upped my punching game, and it worked. Not only had she not laid a single finger on me; her dress had caught on fire. She backed off. Now the man attacked me, but I hadn’t run out of stamina. He received a few punches as well and his cape too caught flame. Both of them tried a few times more, failing to lay a hand on me and having to back off, each time putting out the flames in a bit of an annoyed panic.

Then I saw my chance to grab the man by his arm and I put it in a lock grip so that I could look him in the eyes and exclaim to him to leave his daughter alone, or else I would “light up” the room. I threatened him with death. He was in doubt whether I was bluffing or whether he should actually be genuinely scared. The thing is, I somehow knew I had the ability to burst into a ball of pure light, but I did not know how to do it. I had no idea and imagined that if he called my bluff I would just have to figure it out or fail. 

As his dead eyes stared into mine he picked up on my internal doubt, and so he called my bluff. I was scared for a second but kept throwing the punches. This kept him at bay but he was advancing slowly. He saw my struggle. But then at one point I squeezed my fists and put pressure on my body holding in a breath while trying to push it out, focussing on the experience of throwing punches of light. And from within my chest a white glow appeared. This shifted the dynamic. I saw panic in his eyes.

I had discovered the light switch, but I had yet to figure out how to turn it up to full. He saw that too. He hesitated. In his hesitation I again affirmed my threat: “Leave your daughter alone or I will light up the room!” Both demons got so angry. They didn’t want to bow to my demand but they weren’t sure if they could beat me. Their calm and ominous composure vanished in a split second as both of them started screaming terribly like banshees.

It prompted me to try one final time to burst into light while they tried to attack me one last time, this time together. But I was able to conjure up more light than in my prior attempt, and even though it was still not even close to full power, the mere sight of the light and my increasing success rate was prevalent. They both instantly vanished and light from outside filled the room again. They were gone. And strangely, everyone picked up where they left off before these demons entered the room.

Nobody really thanked me, but neither did I desire it. A few people did speak and said something to me about how well I stood up to them, but I think maybe they were unable to cope with how they did absolutely nothing themselves and could therefore not acknowledge my actions in the right context, and thus they had to play down how bad that situation actually was. But I cared not. My friend was safe and I found out I had the power to challenge demons.

Date: 18-05-2023

This dream began somewhere in an urban environment, but it was also a forest. It was like those two scenes had merged together; lots of trees next to the streets and semi-high rise buildings. It was night, misty also. And there was a lot going on in the sky.

In the sky it was one busy skyline, much like the second level of Command and Conquer Renegade; random flyovers of various flying vehicles, most of which were quite exotic. There were military fighter planes, flying saucers, but also futuristic flying cars. Not modern futuristic, but more like how we pictured them to be in the 80s with tails and small wings fitted with rockets. All these zipped through the sky at great speeds but with little to no discernible sound. Nothing noisy at least. And nobody really paid attention to them.

Apparently some event was being organised in a more remote location, surrounded by woods. Lots of people were going on foot to that event. I was with my wife and a few other people, some of which I think were truthers. We followed the crowd and found ourselves in a check in line to purchase tickets for the event. My good friend A was playing at this event, performing with his guitar. The location was some kind of valley in the woods, with a stunning view over the forest on one side. The valley had a kind of square shape to it; perfect for a festival.

But in one of the four corners was an enclosure made of wooden poles. In that enclosure people put their babies, so they couldn’t crawl away. This way the people got to enjoy the event without constantly having to look after their child. When I saw that enclosure I knew instinctively that those babies were not going to survive the event. We were getting closer to the front of the line and I felt a growing consternation about the idea of participating in this event. I knew my friend was playing here but I did not want to go. D felt my growing unease. She looked at me worried. I told her I did not want to go. “Then let’s not go.” She replied. We walked out of the line and sat down somewhere where we could oversee the valley. Others joined us.

The event was on its way to start. A bald man was holding a microphone and talking to the crowd. It was supposed to be motivational and inspiring, hyping the crowd up to what was to come, but he sounded frustrated and even a little angry, though you needed a lot of people skills to detect that in his speech. But it was there, for sure. While he was talking, my friend, A, stood next to him, just casually jamming on his guitar to set the scene. And while speaking, I could tell this was annoying the bald guy with the microphone. His irritation grew as he was directing people to move to a certain place in the valley in order to spread everyone out. But instead of just asking my friend A to pipe it down a little, he allowed his frustration to build up, up to a point where he snapped.

And when he snapped, he didn’t even snap at A, but instead moved to a wooden pole behind them where some boxes were mounted which all had wires coming in and out of them. These were apparently part of the technical installation which included the microphone and guitar being hooked up to the speakers. And in all his anger he started awkwardly kicking one of the metal boxes on the pole. Everyone was looking at him in confusion, including A, who had now stopped playing the guitar. The bald man kept kicking the box with awkward straight forward kicks, until the box dented, and eventually broke off the screws with which it was fixed onto the pole. A short but loud squeaking sound came from all the speakers on the terrain, which everyone understood meant that A’s guitar was no longer hooked into the system. Everyone was confused.

Me and D were still sitting along side one of the valley rims and we had a clear sight of what had happened. I told D: “You see that? That’s how you can tell the controlled opposition apart from the real people. The CO are perpetually frustrated and cannot have normal interactions with others!” A woman behind me confirmed what I had said. She had overheard me saying what I said and apparently she was a truther who came a long way spiritually. She knew the depth of the evil in this world. I told her about the babies. “I just know these babies are going to be sacrificed in some kind of ritual, and all these people are completely oblivious to it.” I said. She concurred again. Finally, someone who understood.

Suddenly, in the distance on the horizon a giant bird appeared. It was huge, but it also looked fake to me. It was like the distant dark-twilight sky was actually a large screen, and behind it was a man wearing a Sesame Street bird suite. But in that moment it was real, though describing it to you now I can only describe it in a way that makes you think it looked really fake. The bird was real, but it looked like it was fake. It just spread its wings a few times, clearly showing human legs in its silhouette. The crowd went “Ohhhhh!” in amazement. Nobody knew what to think of it. Most didn’t think it was part of the event, which I knew was actually a satanic ritual. It was a bit of a scary moment, in that most people there didn’t know what this was and were completely unaware of any danger. Who wouldn’t be scared out of their minds if a giant bird appeared in the distance? They were so self-absorbed that they seemed to have lost the ability to think rationally.

As suddenly as the bird appeared, it vanished again. Meanwhile I wondered what the significance of this giant bird was. I thought maybe it was some kind of bad omen of sorts; perhaps a sign of a seal being broken for what was ahead. Then, another creature appeared on the horizon, in the same place and in the same fake fashion as the previous one. This time it was the silhouette of a wolf, but to me clearly a man in a wolf suit. Again, the crowd responded in awe but went along their business soon after. When the wolf appeared I was sure; these are related to this event and these are satanic in nature. It’s like the crowd was being desensitised or something, so they would allow something to happen which they would otherwise not allow to happen. Just like the bird, the wolf disappeared suddenly, and people went on with the event.

I had now made a decision. I could not stand idly by while a pen of babies were going to be sacrificed in some kind of evil ritual. I explained this to D. I had to take action, but we both knew I would probably not survive it. But I didn’t care about that. I just couldn’t do nothing. It wasn’t an option for me. She understood. I stood up and went looking for a weapon. I walked around a street with lots of trees and flats, looking for a stick. I found a broken pallet, where one of the planks had broken off. It had nails sticking out of one end. A perfect weapon. I proceeded to the baby enclosure with valour. No matter what I encountered, I was going to try and save as many children as I could, or die trying. I was going to hinder this ritual at all costs.

I’ll never know how far I got cause I woke up soon after.

Edit; Only after numbering the total inventory of published dreams did I see this dream about a satanic ritual is listed as number 66. This is either an incredible (and off-putting) coincidence, or the devil is playing tricks on me. Or perhaps God has a morbid sense of humour? But needless to say I find this curious, and not necessarily in a fun way.