Author: reckneya

Date: 09-01-2022

Last night I dreamt D and I were going on a long journey to Tanzania, where we would be backpacking through the savanna, sleeping (and perhaps even living) inside a tent. We had come up with this together and had decided this is what we both needed. It would be a vacation of long duration, at least a few weeks, but I think much longer. Maybe even a year, or even longer than that. It was unclear, but it was long term.

We were staying over at my parents’ old house the days before we left. But instead of my parents it were her parents that lived there. D had to go to work the day before we departed, but she was able to leave work earlier than usual, so she could take some more preparations for the journey ahead. As a surprise she had made me a carnival suit with a large fluffy animal snake. She had twisted it around the suit and attached it, so that it looked like I was being attacked by a big snake while wearing it. I put it on before she came home. My in-laws were laughing their socks off.

D came home and she said she wanted to go to the store to get some more things we needed. We went to Amsterdam, where there is a large store for travel supplies. In the dream the location was the same as in real life, but the store looked different from the inside, and also did they have much more than just travel stuff. They had everything. The shelves were really high, many metres easily. They still did have many travel products, but also books, toys, office supplies, you name it. D went her own way, and allowed me to browse around. By the way, the store was really busy, and it was a bit under lit. A few lights here and there would have done the store much good. But it wasn’t grim, it was just more like a perpetual twilight inside the store, and it made it kinda cosy.

D had told me she wanted to document our journey by writing down all our adventures. She had asked me to consider bringing my laptop with me on our journey, but I realised that the laptop would be quite a weight to carry around with me all the time. Maybe D could use a paper notepad? It’s lighter, doesn’t require electricity, and I could still take my iPad just in case, which is lighter and would also allow me to use the sudoku app. I went looking for paper notepads, but eventually found myself in an aisle filled with toys.

I saw little toy army tanks which I also used to have when I was a kid myself. Only in the dream I had misplaced the toy vehicle. I felt the urge to re-experience what it was like to play with these toys. And in that aisle there were many kids on the ground playing with the toys they had taken from the packages. This was something the store owners allowed, like this was equal to listening to music before you purchase it. You want to know what you’re getting. And without any shame I pulled one of those tanks out of the package, and started playing with it.

But something about it was different. De manufacturer had “improved” the product, according to the text on the package, but I saw through it. This was no improvement. They had attempted to lower the production costs as much as possible by using cheaper less durable materials, while asking more money for the items because they were now “improved”. Typical corporate scheme. I told myself I would just go back home and would try my best to locate my old toy. I wanted to take it with me to Tanzania. D now tapped me on the shoulder. With a smile on her face she asked me: “Can you find everything you’re looking for, sir?”

I smiled, but replied on a slightly more serious note I wanted to check out the paper notebooks, and explained my reasoning concerning the laptop. D got a little more serious herself now, and replied she would rather still use the laptop. And she had a point. I prefer to work from my laptop when I work on my site, so why not just take the laptop with us. “Is this why you were at the toy aisle?” she asked me, again with a smile. “Nah, I was just curious.” I said. “Oh really?” she replied, and she winked. We moved along together. I thought to myself I would leave my iPad at home. This saved some weight, and instead of making a sudoku I could also grab a flash light and stroll around our tent to look for exotic critters. That actually sounded like a more fun thing to do. “I have everything then.” I told her. She too. While walking to the cashier I was running through a memorised check list. Had I not forgotten anything?

I needed flip-flops, and specialised shoes, and realised the flip-flops would take the least amount of space, so it would make sense to put the shoes on during flight and stuff the flip-flops in my luggage. I had the shoes, which were pitch black Asics, with holes in them as if they were Crocks. They didn’t even look too unfashionable, and maybe even appealing to wear in a hot savanna climate. D and I took our spot in the line to pay for our items, while going through our checklists out loud. “Do you have this?” “And this?” “And you, did you think about this?” We had to wear our warm clothes inside the plane, cause it could get a bit chilly in an airliner.

We arrived back home. The both of us wanted to take a shower, so we went into the bathroom. Before we closed the door, her parents both came to see us, and expressed how proud they were of us for taking on this journey. “You both deserve this.” stated my father in law. It was a bit awkward that they were in the bathroom with us, as we were getting undressed, cause all of a sudden we were in a hurry. It was the bathroom as it used to be in my parents’ house, with the orange wall tiles. D’s parents wanted to ask and tell us so many things before we went, but we were running out of time to leave comfortably. Before I pulled down my underpants, I jokingly ushered them out of the bathroom. “Out, out out out out!” I smiled and so did they. They moved out, we closed the door and took that shower.

After we took a shower, I wanted to quickly move upstairs to my old room, to check and see if my PC was perhaps still turned on. During my teen and ‘tween’ years I had that PC turned on 24/7. But my visit to this room was actually my excuse to go look for that little toy tank. I went up the first stairs, onto the hallway, and went past the door of my sister’s old room. In that room sounded R&B music, as if it was coming from small speakers. As gently as I could, I opened the door, and peeked through the crack, while standing on the first two steps to the attic. It was the room as dad had made it for his train collection, after my sister moved out of the house.

But in this dream, this was now a temporary room for my brother. The train table was hinged against the wall, and in the back of this small narrow room laid a mattress on the floor. On the mattress laid a very ill M (my brother), covered by a blanket, head on the right of the room, laying on his right side so facing the wall away from the door. From his left ear a cotton cloth stuck out and it was red with blood. He had an inner ear infection, that apparently had plagued the house, I recalled in the dream. I could see he was in much pain. He was shivering and groaning. Near his head, next to the mattress, stood a small table. On the table laid his phone. From this phone sounded the R&B music, which apparently he had put on. And this is the kind of music he definitely doesn’t like. The angry voice of a black man sung the chorus: “Momma said momma said momma said! Momma said momma said momma said! Momma said momma said momma said!” with bombastic beats and drums escorting this monotone line.

He hadn’t noticed me, and I didn’t want to wake him. In this dream he was mad at me and didn’t want to talk to me, just as in real life. I wanted to say goodbye to him though, because I would be staying away for such a long time, but eventually decided not to wake him. I didn’t want my last memory of him to be his anger and judgement. Cause at that moment I somehow knew D and I would never return. As gentle as I could I closed the door again, without waking him, and proceeded to the attic. Entering my old room I indeed found my PC switched on. I sat down behind it, and opened a few games I used to play, and programs I frequently used back in the days. I enjoyed the nostalgia. I took it in, enjoyed it, and said my goodbye to the computer. I switched it off one last time. After this I briefly tried to find the little toy I wanted to take with me, but I couldn’t find it. I had to accept this loss and had to let it go. I got up, opened the door, took one last look at the room, then closed it and moved downstairs.

From here everything went in fast forward speed until D and I found ourselves inside the airliner. “Here we are, in the plane.” I said. But D had now also figured out something about this journey was different. And I knew it too. We both realised we were going to die on this journey. Everything that had happened in our life, and all the choices we had made, had brought us to this moment. We had chosen to take this path, together. We were both a bit nervous, but we also knew things would be alright. The aeroplane took off, and we held each others’ hand, and looked into each others’ eyes. “There we go.” I said. She replied: “Yup, there we go.” I said: “I’m curious what it would be like.” “Me too.” she said.

The plane now began to crash down. I felt fear, but saw more fear in D her eyes. My desire to comfort her allowed me to overcome my own fear. I squeezed her hand, and tried to get her to look me in the eyes again. “Hey. You. It’s going to be alright.” I said in an uplifting voice. She smiled while tears ran down her cheeks. I continued: “It was a beautiful journey together. And we will find each other again, on the other side, okay? We will stay together. I’ll look you up.” She now smiled with her whole face. My words had comforted her, and she was now too without fear. And then the moment was there. The plane hit the ground. I recall intense pain. It was so intense that I was alone in that moment. I experienced this moment of pain in solitude. It was me, and pain. I think our bodies disintegrated on impact.

But that pain only lasted a fraction of a second. It was over before it began. I found myself in another state of being. I really felt it. I now also understood many things I didn’t before in my life. And I also knew that D was in the exact same state of mind, understanding all the things I now understood too. Because I knew what she knew I wanted to visit my brother one last time before I went to find her. I knew D understood this. M was my first priority now. I felt he needed my help, but I did not know whether or not he would accept it, because I was the one to offer this help. So I looked him up. This happened instantaneously. He now laid in my king sized bed, in the house I now am while typing this.

I was in the hallway, and phased through the door. I entered the room as an observer. Nobody inside could see me, not even from the dream realm. As long as I decided to stay unnoticed, nobody could see me. Inside the room I detected an ominous presence. There were three shadow figures with him in this room. They were the same kind of entities I sometimes run into in lucid dreams or when I am in between waking and sleeping. One of these shadow entities sat on his chest and was choking him with one hand. M was asleep, but because of the state I was now in I could see he was tangled up in a nightmare inside his head. If I wanted to, I could enter this dream of his. I could even wake him up. But, if I did that, it meant I would come out of my incognito mode, and he would be able to see me. As long as he was asleep, or half asleep, he wouldn’t be able to tell it was me giving him this unsolicited help.

I wanted to help him, but I wanted to do something heroic, so he could see I am not the evil he perceived me to be. But suddenly I realised he didn’t even know I was dead yet. I knew I wasn’t allowed to reveal that to him this way intentionally. Apparently there were rules in place to prevent this. So I let go of that idea. But I still wanted to help him, so I decided I would just remove these three demons from his presence. He didn’t have to know it was me. And by the way, I was not in any doubt I could beat them. I beat them plenty of times when I was still human, and my abilities were now far beyond what I could in my physical form. And I was actually quite eager to test my new abilities on these evil mother fuckers. I was going to reveal myself and fight them.

I de-cloaked, and the entities noticed me immediately. And I was hard to miss. Even to my own surprise my appearance was very intense. I wore white robes, and my skin emitted a blindingly white light. One of the three entities, which stood at the foot end of the bed, dissolved instantly on my de-cloak. The second tried to jump me from the other side of the bed, but with one swing of my arm I bounced him out of the air like he was made of carton board. He impacted the wall and splashed into ash. It took me no sweat at all. The third one was however a little bit stronger, and he was still choking my brother. But without a hint of fear in me I pulled him off M. This was to become and actual fight, but I hadn’t a sliver of doubt I would beat him.

And it wasn’t a match at all. A few kicks, and light beams from my hands, and he puffed into a cloud of ash too. The entity had not even succeeded in landing a single strike on me, and I think if he did he would not even have been able to do as much as scratch me with his best move. But as I landed my final attack on the entity M had started to wake up from his dream, and he was opening his eyes. In a fraction of a second I knew he could see me, and with one single thought I put him back to sleep. He must’ve seen something, but I do not know how much. I was hoping that he had not recognised me due to the blinding light, but who knows. Maybe if he wakes up again he’ll just remember this as a fascinating dream experience. But as soon as the news of my passing would reach him, he might put 2 and 2 together and figure out it was me. But then I thought: “Maybe it was supposed to happen this way?”

I looked one last time at my brother, and smiled. I knew he’d be okay. Then I teleported myself to D. She was such an enlightened being now. We went on our journey together, but we also both expressed how we looked forward to coming back one day. Our departure seemed to be permanent, but also temporary. I remember literally thinking: “I really hope M, and D’s parents are still alive when we return.”

The dream ended. I memorised this dream through repeating core words. I then fell asleep once more. Another dream followed. It was equally profound, and it followed up the events as they took place in my experience. This next dream took place in front of the old house of our grumpy neighbour, miss Schreuder. In this dream her house was now a small school. The world was post-apocalyptic. There were a few children of varying ages outside waiting for school to start.

There were two versions of my brother, M. One was him as I left him in the previous dream; a young adult male. So, not at all a child, yet he was supposed to follow classes there. The second version of him was as he was when he was a young boy, about the age of 10 (about 3rd or 4th grade). They didn’t know they were each others’ counterpart. In this dream I remembered having had the previous dream, not knowing I was dreaming again. I wanted to tell older M about this dream as it featured him, and I thought there was a message in it for him. I reasoned it was therefore important he knew what I had experienced.

I talked to him, and he acted disinterested, but agreed to listen to my dream. But while I started to detail the story, he wasn’t making the slightest effort to listen. In fact, he actually seemed to make it a point to portrait he wasn’t listening at all. On the property was a kennel with two dogs in it. As I started to tell the story from the start he picked up a stick and started poking it through the fence, playing with the dogs that began taking turns pulling the stick. Then he would strike up a conversation with another person there. And every time I paused for him to finish what he was doing, he would eventually notice I had stopped and would turn to me stating that he was really listening and I could just continue. But it was very evident he was actually giving me the sign he didn’t have the slightest intention of actually taking in anything I was detailing to him. I got the impression he would actually prefer me to be done, so he didn’t have to pretend to be interested, which he didn’t even do. 

But he didn’t have to if he wanted to. If he had said he wasn’t interested, that’d be fine. I would just not tell him and keep it to myself. So I said to him: “Look, if you don’t want to hear it, just say so. I won’t hold it against you, I just thought you wanted to hear this, that’s all.” But he said he did want to hear it, while it still seemed like he didn’t really mean that at all. So I responded to that with: “Is it okay if I don’t tell you? Cause if you don’t want to hear it, I might as well not bother you. I’m okay either way, but then please just say so.” But M kept insisting he was interested to hear it, but again did it in such a way he clearly didn’t mean a word he said. And this was so strange. Before he broke contact with me he was always thrilled to share dreams with me and examine their meaning together. Something in him had changed. He was angry with me.

“If you don’t want to listen just say so, bro. It’s okay if you don’t, but don’t tell me you want to hear it if you don’t.” But then a little boy said to me: “I want to hear it?” It was his younger version. He came to sit down in front of me, and so did a host of other children of about the same age. For a moment I felt what it was to be a teacher again. I really missed this feeling. “Okay, let me go back and start the story from the beginning.” They agreed. Old M had wondered off. But as I set the story up and explained about the preparations for Tanzania, the front door of the house/school swung open. The teachers stepped out and called the children to come inside. All the children got up and left to enter the school. Young M was sad. He really wanted to know this dream as I had detailed to him it featured a future version of him. But he had to go to school. In the dream I knew that another chance to tell this version of M this dream would not present itself again.

 

Analysis:

We were staying over at my parents’ house, where in the dream this was the house where my in-laws lived. I think this symbolises how they became my surrogate parents.

We were staying with them for a few days. Maybe this is something of the future, where we make use of their hospitality, or maybe it shows how hospitable they are.

Tanzania is called the cradle of humanity. Humankind originated here. D and I were preparing to go to this cradle; a journey to our source. I think this means we are preparing for a life back to our roots, or a life based on a more traditional way of living.

In the dream we both tried to take old memories and luxuries with us, but were limited in the amount of things we could take with us. We had to pick carefully. I cherish items from my past. In that regard I am much like my father. But I simply was forced to leave most things behind. But in the dream I took my time to consciously say goodbye to that past. I think this could be about what is going on in our world today. We need to say goodbye to our way of life, regardless which way things go. But it could also mean D and I will go live off grid somewhere, where we will have to learn to do without the luxuries of modern technology. In the dream, we were both ready for that.

In the dream, we both died. But we lived on, still. Wiser, more conscious and self-aware, stronger. I think this symbolises the many pains we will undoubtedly have to endure, but which in the end will help us grow spiritually. It will actually make us wiser, more conscious, more self-aware, and stronger.

My brother was ill in the dream. An infection of his inner ear. Blood came out of his ear. He was shivering, and in pain. He was sad and depressed. The music he was playing was music he has a good measure of distaste for in real life. The music contained the chorus “momma said” on repeat. I think this is about his current situation. I think this symbolises my mother is whispering things in his ear. Things he would normally not listen to.

His ears were infected. He even bled from the ears. Cotton cloths were inside his ears to catch the blood. With your ears you can hear things. Maybe his ability to hear things has been damaged. I think this symbolises M is hurt, and he can no longer hear what he needs to hear.

In the dream he is listening to music he dislikes, while suffering from an inner ear infection. It seems to me the worst state to be in to listen to garbage music. “Momma said.” I think this symbolises that whatever his soul injury is, it’s been made worse by listening to what mom is feeding him. The message “momma said” is being repeated over and over again, while what he probably needed would be to turn it off and allow himself some peace and quiet to heal.

I left without saying goodbye to him. I think this symbolises I prefer to never have any contact over being in a conflict with him. I don’t want to fight over stupid things. I’m glad few bad things were said in our last exchange. His anger towards me is rooted deeply. I cannot change that. Only he can. He has made choices, and I need to learn to respect his choices. I will learn to put this aside, and move on.

My urge to go visit him in my death because I sensed he was in peril comes from a brotherly urge to protect a younger sibling. I want him to be safe. I also want him to see me in a positive light, but there are no magical ways to change the way he perceives me. It should be his choice to perceive me as he wants to. Wanting to be seen positively corrupted my initial motivations to help him, though when I realised I could not break these universal laws, I still helped him, and I think this shows which part of my desire to help him was unconditional. And I would help him as often and well as I possibly could do.

Though with that said, I think the demons that haunted him in the dream were there by invite through his unconsciousness. Certain choices welcomed those shadow entities into his spiritual plane. There would come a time when it would be foolish of me to keep helping him. On one hand I would take away his chance to defeat his own demons if I did, but on the other hand he might not learn how to do that and be turned into one of those entities himself. The key here is choice. Should he ever choose to call for my aid, I will help. I fear for my brother though. He has followed our mother on a dark and depressing road. I think our mother is already nearly lost, or perhaps even irredeemable already, if I interpret my dreams correctly that is. Following her on her path is nevertheless a bad idea, in my opinion.

In the second dream, there were two versions of M. His current version, and a much younger version. The oldest version had no interest in hearing my dreams, but he was unable to just admit to this. His younger version was really interested in hearing this dream but had to go to school.

I think the older version and his reaction symbolises his state of being. He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, even if it were the most profound thing he could be witness to, not because of its content but because it comes from me. He might even have grown envious of these dream experiences, even though he himself has been privy to having had such experience many times over.

Not being interested but not being able to admit this I think shows he is still afraid of saying ‘no’ to me. His break of contact with me I think is a way for him to experience power over me. It is a deep rooted thing he wrestles with. I think he’s made certain decisions in his life and he fears what I think of these choices. And I understand that fear. I hold him in high regard. His judgement weighs heavily on me too. Whatever judgement I could convey to him if he was to ask for my council is my own demon to struggle with. What he fears more than getting that council though is that I could be right, afterwards. And that is a demon of his own making.

In the dream it seemed he was trying to get me to get angry with him, which I did not do. I was mostly confused and didn’t understand his disinterest at first. I simply wanted to share my experience with him, and looked forward to analysing it together. I was hoping he would understand the metaphors and what this meant for his life right now. If he didn’t want to hear it, he could’ve just said so. I would have had to deal with that, whether I liked it or not. It would’ve been more honourable if he had been honest.

The old version of M didn’t want to hear the dream, but his younger version did. That version was actually filled with wonder and excitement. But he couldn’t be told the dream cause he had to go to school. I think this symbolises that the M of years back would have really loved to hear this dream, but the time I have to reach that version of him has passed. That version of him is locked in the past, in a different phase of his life, where I cannot reach him any more. It wouldn’t have served him to know what the future has in store for him, cause it might result in him changing his path. But those choices would not be his own as they would not be based on his own experiences. This would break another universal law.

Young M and old M both went to the exact same school. This is an interesting detail, and it combines the conclusion of the two dreams. I think this symbolises that old M needs to relearn a lesson that young M also had to learn. I think this is about the way he saw our dad before he died. We all often cursed that man during his life, thinking he was bitter and angry, full of hate, and unreasonable. We all hated that man in some part of our life. M too hated him. But behind this hate were the tentacles of our mother. Now that dad is gone, the hate evaporated. He can see dad for who he really was now. This is a lesson he has learned, but he is going to the same school now. I think this pertains to his hatred towards me. I’m not saying I am innocent. I am not. Neither was our father, for that matter. But there was more to him than what we thought. But I think I need to die or go beyond reach for him to see how he is being manipulated in culturing his hate for me, just as before with dad. That’s why he’s going to the same school as his younger self. And that’s why I think he was sleeping in my bed towards the end. After my death he will be at a place where I have been. And I will be at the place our dad is now while I write this. There’s so much poetry in this dream. 

 

Aftermath 14-01-2024:

I know now just how profound these dreams were. My wife has expressed a shared desire to go live off grid, for one. This is something I could only have wished for years ago. And my sister told me weeks after this dream my brother had moved back in with our mom, and decided some other things that suggested he went back to his past. Brother, I feel your pain. Our lives present us with these tests. We answer the questions of those tests through the choices we make. With each choice we make, comes a new lesson to learn, in the form of new tests. Life continues in this cycle until we learn what we are here to learn. I’m sorry for my judgements of you. These dreams just happen to me. Take from them what you want or need. The analysis are my interpretation. Yes, I could be wrong. Or maybe there are more ways to interpret them. I hope you are okay. I know you will be okay in the end. I love you. Thank you for all the good times.

Date: 19-11-2021 

Last night I dreamt I was walking with D somewhere on a dike, not near our house but far away at some unknown place. Maybe we were on a holiday? It was dark, so evening or nighttime. I think it was autumn or winter, cause it was chilly outside, and we were dressed in thick clothes. At one point during our walk we saw small lights in the distance through the treeline. They moved back and forth, disappearing shortly and suddenly reappearing again a few times. There was no audible sound, so it wasn’t a helicopter. Curious, we both picked up the pace to check out what this was. When we got closer the lights suddenly disappeared and didn’t return. We kept walking along the dike, which ended near a road perpendicular to the dike. On the other side of the road was a small flat field of grass, surrounded by pollard willows. We crossed the road. There were no cars anywhere nearby that we could see or hear. As we crossed the road and walked onto the grass we looked back to the dike we had been following. Now we noticed there was a small primary school next to the dike.

I recalled that place from a documentary I had seen about an UFO landing near a school, and told D about it. I detailed the UFO landing of that documentary, but she didn’t seem interested in hearing the story. Suddenly the lights from before appeared overhead. We could now clearly make out the outlines of what was unmistakably a large flying disc. The disc moved fast, making random left and right turns, still without producing a single sound. I recognised these motions from the description by the children in the documentary, so I started making predictions of its next move to D. She looked with amazement and said to me: “I’d rather discover myself where it will go next.” She didn’t want me to spoil it. I kept my mouth shut and kept watching the object with her, as it never ventured far from us. But then I suddenly realised the documentary had also detailed an abduction, and before I could say or do anything, it suddenly moved closer to us until it was straight above us, and from its centre emanated a pinkish purple beam of light, accompanied by a mist or a shroud of plasma of the same colour. It ‘sucked’ us up into the craft.

I literally remember nothing of what happened inside the craft, while I am absolutely certain there were memories. There is a literal blanc in this part of the dream. We were in the craft for some time. The dream memories pick up again from me and D waking up on the grass where the craft had ‘abducted’ us. The sun was up, and it was no longer cold at all. It was rather warm. We were wearing different clothes, too. Summer clothes. We asked a passer-by what today’s date was. I do not recall which date he said it was, but I knew that in the dream it meant half a year had now passed. We walked back. I’m not sure where ‘back’ was at. While we walked, we were both quiet. Maybe it was even a bit of an uncomfortably silence. As we walked on I pondered whether or not I would meditate later on and ask my guides to give me back the memories of our abduction, cause I was still unsure if I wanted to know. I wasn’t sure whether these had been enlightened aliens, or the evil type. Maybe it was better if I didn’t remember this? But I couldn’t let it go. Another thing that was bothering me was that I was afraid if I focussed my mind on the word ‘aliens’ too much I would start tainting the suppressed memories with a false sense of positive or negative annotations.

 

Date: 12-11-2021

Last night I dreamt I was ice skating with my parents, somewhere in my home town. There was farmland around us, and we were ice skating on the little canals in between the plots of land. My dad wore what we call “lange noren” which are a kind of long ice skates, very typical Dutch things to have. And my dad was exceptionally good at ice skating in this dream. My mom and I on the other hand were struggling to get any momentum, and the ice was thin and fractured also, which didn’t help. And the further along we went, the more the ice became patchy, until there was more water than ice, and we had to hop from ice sheet to ice sheet. My mother didn’t even wear ice skates, but was instead wearing normal shoes. I’m not sure if I wore ice skates myself or not. But my dad was unhindered by the patchy ice, and advanced over the water just as smoothly as he traversed the ice, pirouetting and making sharp turns, and going circles around us as if to taunt us. My mom and I struggled ever more, and it was now a fact that if we lost too much speed we would “crash through the ice” of which there was ever less of.

My mom started complaining to my dad about how it is impossible to ice skate without wearing actual ice skates, as if that was his idea, or he had caused her to forget them or not bring them. I did agree with her though and emphasized her point that ice skating without actual ice skates is indeed very difficult to do, but I did so because I was actually afraid to fall into the water myself too. My dad remained completely calm and suggested we go off the ice and walk along side the water. With the agility of an athlete he jumped on land, and helped my mom off the ice and onto the solid ground of the bank. I was still moving forward but also losing speed. I was about to crash through the ice but then he came to my rescue. I recall I jumped from ice sheet to ice sheet, and it was almost too late, but here he came and he pulled me onto the bank too. I was now some distance away from my mom. I didn’t see her any more. Immediately after helping me my dad got back on the ice and skated away with such ease and agility, and he gained a lot of speed and disappeared into the distance. I was completely alone now.

The evening was setting in as it got darker. I walked for a while until I ended up at the traffic square in front of the local pizzeria here in my home town. It looked like I hadn’t been here a while. Things had changed. Of the many changes one thing stood out most; there were ‘crowd control barriers’ everywhere. Put there by the authorities. Some areas were cordoned off by police ribbons. There were also road works taking place, even at this hour, and I also saw military barriers, with high end barbed wire and 3 armoured vehicles (perhaps light tanks) guarding the area, each parked at a strategic location. Their colour was desert camo, as if they had been last used in the second golf war. There was also a legion of soldiers present, spread out over the area, walking patrol shifts. To the left of me (near the pizzeria) there were a lot of soldiers and civilians that were working together. They were “of the same team” for lack of a better way to describe it. They had constructed a large protective barrier so that no person could go past the pizzeria. They had also made trenches in the street. These served both a military goal (to take cover and as firing position) but also an engineering purpose. Something to do with underground wiring.

It turned out to be Greek soldiers who were sent to our country. In the dream I could understand Greek. I understood what the soldiers and civilians were saying. To the right of me in front of the town hall and the streets opposite to the barrier I saw many of my fellow townspeople. Generic people, no one specific. They had their faces covered with shawls and handkerchiefs, like they were bandits or rioters. They jeered at the Greek soldiers. Some even threw rocks at them. Everyone seemed tense and scared, not just the townspeople but also the Greek people. The latter shouted desperate pleas in Greek through megaphones: “We only want to help you!” But I knew not a single person of the other side who understood what they said in Greek. And even so, I doubt they would believe anything they had to say. I started shouting something back at the Greeks (in Dutch): “We just want to live here!” I repeated this a few times. Some of my fellow townsmen joined in and repeated what I had shouted. It wasn’t uniform or organised, but we got our point across that we were in alignment about not appreciating their presence. It seemed we were clear in getting the message across we were no longer going to listen to the government, and would instead ignore all their demands. We would just continue on with our lives despite any government efforts to hinder us in doing so.

The Greeks somehow did understand us, and our response caused them to become completely confused. They simply did not understand why we no longer wanted their help. They were completely convinced we would not fare at all without them, and just couldn’t understand how it was possible we seemed to be succeeding without their aid in anything we did. Somehow our protest was proof of how well we could organise ourselves. The Greeks continued to follow the orders they were given even though it was stupendously evident it was all time and effort wasted on their part, as the people they thought they were helping didn’t need their help, nor wanted it. They just didn’t understand what they experienced here, and they seemed unable to draw their own conclusions. They saw these foreigners as imbeciles. Their conclusion was that all people of this town must’ve completely lost their minds, for reasons unknown. The townspeople in return couldn’t understand how those Greeks just kept following orders without subjecting those orders to some critical thought. Luckily the conflict did not lead to a battle scene. It ended with two sides of opposites who each stood their ground and did their own thing on their side of the fence.

 

Date: 10-10-2021 

Last night I dreamt about my brother. It was such a weird dream! The story took place at our parents’ house. Dad was still alive, but at the same time there was a reunion for family and friends of his in commemoration of him. And so, my brother was here too, but I had not seen him yet, or so I thought. I sat at a table with a few people, and next to me sat a huge man. He was shaven bald, his chin, his head, just completely hairless. And he was incredibly fat. I had no idea who this was. He stank, and it was genuinely unpleasant to look at this man. He was a stereotypical morbidly obese man.

There were other people sitting at this table, and these people and the fatman were talking loudly and laughing hard. I was just an extra, as I did not participate at first. But this fatman knew things about my youth he couldn’t possibly know. And he made the occasional joke at my expense, with knowledge about the past he couldn’t possibly have. Something about him was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The jokes at my expense didn’t hit target as I did not engage. I was just trying to figure out who this guy is.

But then the mannerisms and things he said made me realise… this is my brother. My brother used to be a big long strong man. We both grew up with a skinny body plan, but he didn’t want that and started doing fitness and some body building in his teen years. As he was 6ft. 6″ tall that meant he grew into a big hulk. Tender, still, but strong. And he ate healthy. His body was his temple. It seemed that in this dream reality, he had completely let go of that philosophy.

He was so incredibly fat that even his face had a different form. I barely recognised him in it. And his completely shaven appearance where he used to sport a beard and moustache made him even more unrecognisable. He used to love his wild hair! With my mouth fallen open I had stared at him the moment I realised he was my brother, looking for words to start a conversation. But I found that to be difficult. He was still in a very lively conversation with the other people sitting at our table. I remained a spectator, mostly. I did not engage.

At one point he looked and smiled a certain way, and then I recognised something of him. And now a few people at our table stood up and left, maybe to get a drink or talk to someone else. My brother turned to me. Of course he had recognised me, as I still hadn’t changed much. It was an awkward moment cause he knew I had not seen him grow into this, and it seemed he didn’t want to talk about it. He tried to pick up our old joke routine, but it didn’t work. I was still processing this change. Carefully I uttered the words: “Bro, I had not even recognised you…” He interjected before I could say anything about the weight or how he used to look: “Yeah, new me. Let the past be the past.”

He then tried to start joke routines we used to do, but these routines and facial expressions we used to do didn’t work on his new image. His clownish imago routine just wasn’t funny any more. He had changed into a different person. And he noticed. He stopped and there was an awkward silence. I had now found the courage to bring it up again and asked him the question he was evading. I tried it jokingly first: “But seriously though; what happened to that long and muscular brother of mine, and who is this fatty sitting in front of me?” “Yeah, things happen. Not important.” He evaded again.

But I changed my joking tone, as now the question had been asked: “Dude, really… What happened to you? How have you changed so much in such a short time? This isn’t what you wanted for yourself, right? You lived so healthy, ate healthy food, kept in shape… How?” He got a bit aggravated, and threw me something along the lines that I should stop living in the past, as if that is what this was about. I mean, aren’t we there to commemorate dad, who is from our past? But he made it clear; the topic of his new appearance was off-limits.

He just wanted to pick things up where we left them, and whenever anyone would ask about his bodily transformation he was short to answer something along the lines that “we should just get used to it cause he won’t change back”, after which he would then change the topic. He didn’t want to be confronted with it, at all. But I didn’t see a way to get used to it, and that was emphasised by how he handled himself now. The old M would not evade questions like this. He knew his body, and was confident about it, and conscious of its shortcomings.

I realised this was not the same person I grew up with. Not only had he changed on the outside, he had also changed on the inside. The brother I knew was gone. He no longer felt like him. I didn’t see how I could get used to this. I just couldn’t do it. It was so weird. And his reaction to questions gave me an unpleasant familiar vibe from our upbringing. Some things were also non-discussable. No more off-limit topics. I was done with off-limit topics.

Date: 06-10-2021

In this dream, I lived with my wife D in some kind of community. The setting was a slightly post-apocalyptic world. The house in which we lived was partly the house I live in now, but there were also parts of it that resembled my parents’ house. Some spaces were completely different from both though. The location of the house shifted a few times. Sometimes the house was located in Amersfoort and sometimes in De Veen. But regardless either location felt like home to me.

The community consisted of people who live in our courtyard. The houses were situated in exactly the same way. But in those houses lived different people than live there in real life. Many of them I didn’t know, but I did know a few prominent residents in this dream reality. De leader of this community was my boss, F. He ruled in his own way; a joking socially awkward dictator. His right hand man was another colleague of mine, FW. But the vibe was mostly good in the community, and we were about to have another community meeting.

A package had arrived from the government. It contained something that would “improve us”. It was meant for vaccinated people only, and was some sort of technology. It was to be injected or applied (it’s a little vague) with a handheld device that looked much like a handheld scanner from the supermarket. FW was explaining to the group what it did and how it worked, but even before he started I already knew I didn’t want it. We weren’t vaccinated either anyway, so we weren’t eligible.

FW explained how great it was and he was going to demonstrate it on himself. He aimed the device at his chest and pushed the trigger button. A violent reaction crawled over his skin in a circle outward from where he targeted himself. It appeared like black wires were tunnelling their way through his upper skin tissue. It much resembled someone being assimilated by the Borg like in the Star Trek series and films. And indeed implants appeared on top of his skin at certain places, but they were much smaller than the Borg implants, and they were pitch black. Their purpose was at this point still unknown to us.

On his wrist of his right hand appeared some sort of bracelet, but the bracelet did not touch his skin. It looked like it was levitating just half an inch away from his skin at all times, like magnets facing other magnets but facing them with the same pole. The beats of the bracelet weren’t connected through a wire either but levitated just at the right distance from each other to give the appearance of a bracelet. They were rectangle, the middle one biggest, and getting smaller the further along either side of his wrist they progressed, and they appeared to be made out of turquoise mineral stone. Lastly they also seemed to emanate a faint bluish hue.

FW explained that everyone who took this would now be able to communicate with each other wirelessly. There were many more features but D and I didn’t stay to hear the rest. We didn’t want this. We saw how impure it was. Never any privacy ever again? Never having any of my own thoughts? This was demonic. But while we walked out we heard FW ask: “Who wants to go first?” We looked back and saw that especially many young children who had no idea of the ramifications of this augmentation jumped up at the chance. But D and I stayed quiet and continued our way out of the hall. We understood that it was not possible to reverse this process and that we could not make them understand if we tried to explain why they shouldn’t want this.

We were going to distance ourselves from the group that underwent this transition. But our leader, F, saw us leave. He had undergone the treatment earlier before even FW did, because we saw the same thing around his wrist as we saw appear on FW’s wrist. He made a hand-sign to FW and it looked like he wanted FW to go and talk to us. They both started talking to us, quite forcefully. They both said this procedure wasn’t voluntary but mandated. We were going to have to consent to this, even though it was for the vaccinated only. But they also simultaneously told us we weren’t allowed to have this because we were unvaccinated. This was a strange contradiction, and I recall verbally countering both arguments where I plead that discrimination is very wrong, but also explaining why we both refused to cooperate with them.

We went home. The dream somehow spanned a few days, of which only vague impressions lasted when I typed the dream out. I cannot recall any details about those days, but the story picked back up again here. At this point we were the black sheep of the community. People looked at us with much distrust when we walked outside. We stayed home and indoors as much as we could. D had to go to work but I appeared to be out of a job. I stayed home. And when this story picks up there was some interaction between me and a neighbour. He was a black man, and he was quite nice to me. I had been fixing things in my porch at the front door, but I had forgotten to take my tool case back inside. This man rang the doorbell.

I spoke to him through the open kitchen window. It was a friendly conversation. One I hadn’t had with a neighbour for days. After the conversation I climbed out of the kitchen window to get my stuff. The neighbour walked away but I could see he had only now noticed I did not have any implants. He had a look on his face as if he suddenly realised he had been talking to the enemy. I wasn’t sure but it seemed like he had informed the community of this wirelessly. The vibe got bad again.

That evening Hunter Biden (yes, the son of Joe Biden..!) rang our doorbell, and when I answered the door he started complaining to me that D and I had not undergone the procedure, and underscored that we were the only ones that didn’t. D had already gone to bed, and the house was now truly different from how it was in the start of the dream. I didn’t really know this place, but it was my house in the dream. While talking to Hunter, F and FW suddenly appeared too, along with an older woman who I didn’t know. But she took the lead. There was also a fifth person who I barely remember, as their role was minor. It was now five people against one.

Hunter tried to push me aside and tried to get into the house, but I calmly stood strong and told him he did not have my permission to enter. I wouldn’t allow it. I tried to walk away inside and now the house had no door so I couldn’t close it (which was normal in the dream at this point). I walked up the stairs but Hunter had followed me in and also tried to walk up the stairs behind me. Now my instincts to protect D from them kicked in. F and FW were now also inside in the hallway, F holding the device in his hands. They were going to force us. F said: “You no longer have a choice in this matter!” I began to resist them, and pushed Hunter down from the stairs with force, yelling: “I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS!” I repeated this again but replaced the ‘I’ with ‘WE’.

I yelled that a third time and it seemed to scare them off. The hallway was big now and appeared much like the old workshop at the appliance store where I got my first job in my early teens. From this workshop I grabbed the first long item I could find to use as a weapon. Sadly it turned out to be a plastic pipe rather than an iron one, but it would have to do. Now this afore mentioned woman started to take an active role, and ordered the others to complete the procedure on me. All five approached me.

But I was in “no consent mode” and I took a swing with the pipe at her head, and repeated that motion hitting her on her arms and shoulder, as well as on her head a few times. I hit her hard, with all my strength. She was unable to continue her stride towards me and I was winning terrain. I kept hitting her repeatedly and drove her out of the house! There was nothing she could do but obey my demand. With even less effort I got the others to leave. I simply walked in all red-faced and firmly stated: “OUT! ALL OF YOU!” I hit them with the pipe a few times but it was only to speed up their pace. They were on their way out. Now they stood outside like sad children who’s ball was taken away by an angry neighbour. They stood there, but they did not leave.

I went back inside into this house that still had no door, so I didn’t close and lock anything. I thought to myself that if we both went to sleep they were surely coming back, perhaps with more people. We had to leave. In the bedroom I found D awake, but she hadn’t really heard much of what had transpired downstairs. I explained the situation to her. She stated it would be better if we were to find another place to live tomorrow. I convinced her we had to leave the house now: “They’ll be coming back as soon as we are asleep.” “You’re right.” she replied calmly, realising the severity of our situation.

We quickly grabbed a few things and fled into the darkness of the night. I knew the way even though the night was pitch black, just as I can navigate through the forest during the night in real life. D held my hand tight. We escaped from being noticed by a crowd that had been gathering not far from our house with the intent to storm us. With distance came some safety and we were now walking hand in hand through what appeared to be old Amersfoort. Really old, like 1800s old. There were narrow alleys, brothels, orphanages, cafes, etc. I told D we were just going to have to find a place to stay for the night, and when day breaks we’d try and go back to the house early in the morning and gather what we need to really leave for good.

It was raining at this point. We walked the streets, taking shelter from the rain under porches. We were walking on the right side of the street. On the other side of the street we saw a man through the window who appeared to be orally pleasured by a woman, presumably a prostitute. From a window above us on our side of the street a man opened the window and started yelling joking remarks at the woman. “You really need to take a lot from this job, don’t ya!” The man that yelled didn’t see us down below, but the man that was being pleasured did. But he didn’t do anything, I presume out of shame.

But to the window next to us on our side of the street the face of a young little girl appeared. She was about 8 years old. She must’ve heard all the yelling and had become curious about what was going on, and now she had discovered us. She looked at me for a few seconds, in a moment of silence and anticipation on both sides of that window. It was a short moment of awkward social contact. But then she look strayed to my neck and this startled her. She noticed we did not have any implants. Her eyes widened, and in her neck now several small LED lights switched on and started blinking rapidly.

Frightened she took a few steps back away from the window, still not having said a word. The room she was in had been completely dark, but because of these flickering lights in her implant, some features of the room became visible to us. Horrified I noticed how the whole back wall of this elongated darkened room was filled with people sitting on one long row of benches like those in gym class. They were mixed, young and old, numbering about 30 people total, and they all appeared to be sleeping. But the moment I saw them I also saw their implants be activated. Lights in each of their necks started flickering on and off, and it lit up the room. Immediately after this they woke up, looked at us, and stood up. The network had activated them.

D and I knew intuitively that those that wanted to inject us now also knew where we were, because all these people were connected to a hive mind of sorts. We ran, as fast as we could. We ran and ran and ran until I had reached a hideout I knew from long ago when I was just a kid in real life. D was no longer with me now. Not that I had abandoned her or anything, but she was just not part of this phase of the dream. I was alone there, and I hid for a large angry mob that was looking for me.

It was a strange place, next to a little ditch with calm flowing water, but behind some kind of dam with lots of vegetation so I could easily stay out of sight here. I had a really dry and sore throat for some reason. It really bothered me. Then someone came sitting there along the ditch a little further away. They wore old worn-out clothes. They sat down next to a little brick wall that was part of an old bridge that once spanned across the ditch. It was a woman, not too old, maybe a little older than I. She was homeless, I assumed. I went over to her, because I wanted to have some social interaction with someone. We were equals, because I now too was homeless.

I greeted her, but my voice was really hoarse, I could barely talk. She had an old coke cola bottle with water that was not entirely clean, but drinkable. She offered me the water. I accepted it gracefully. But it didn’t help. Even though I had drank it all and had taken efforts to rinse the back of my throat with it, I still had the sensation there was sand in the back of my throat. She got another bottle, this one with a little bit of actual cola. She offered it to me. She was most generous. I felt shame it still didn’t help my voice.

With a hoarse voice I spoke with her. I don’t remember about what, but I do recall I explained some of my philosophies to her. We spoke about the current state of the world. This woman had refused the treatment as well. But all of a sudden while talking to her I realised I wanted to get D out of that world. I somehow knew she now resided in my parents’ old home. I instantly teleported myself there. It was night-time still, and the rain was poring harder and harder. D was inside the house, which was completely dark. She was hiding under the window. I appeared and hugged her, and told her if she came with me I could get her out of this world. She did.

I was now able to fly, as sometimes I can in my dreams. And I wasn’t nervous about it as I sometimes was in other dreams. From the front yard I grabbed 2 big tarps, wrapped them around the two of us in a certain way to prevent us from getting too wet by the rain. She hugged me tightly and I held on to her and the tarps, and took to the sky. We flew over the house in the direction of a neighbourhood with flats. The flying part went really well. As we gained height the weather cleared up. Down below we could see a mass of people with blinking implants. They tried to follow us, climbed trees and the flats as if to try and get near us, but we were out of their range. I could fly and we could now go anywhere we’d like. We were no longer afraid.

Date: 30-09-2021 

This afternoon I was tired and went to bed for a power nap. I fell asleep and dreamt a short but intense dream. I was sitting on the top of my brother’s bunk bed in our old childhood room. I sat on my behind with my legs pulled towards my torso. My legs were under the covers. The ceiling was gone, or transparent. It was night time, and the sky was cloudless. The stars were out, bright. Suddenly one of the stars started flickering, and eventually dimmed until it was barely visible. There were a lot of birds in the trees and on the roofs, which were quite noisy, but who all had their gaze to the same part of the horizon. They were looking at something I could not see. Then the dimmed star started to fall down and rapidly but ever so gently ended up on the covers, as if it was a small marble.

I looked at it, and I began to understand this wasn’t real. But I wasn’t aware it was a dream just yet. I looked at the marble that lay between my legs on top of the silky white sheets, as I now sat cross-legged. “We never had these sheets? And how can the ceiling be gone?” All of a sudden I became aware the bed was surrounded by white Angels. Their skin was illuminating, and so were the robes they wore. I could barely make out any details on them, but I could see they consisted out of a mix of male and female Angels. All of them remained quiet. Still I was not aware it was a dream, though. I was trying to figure out what was going on. I focussed on the marble again, and reached out for it with my right hand in order to pick it up.

But when I did one of the Angels spoke and gently said: “Careful. It’s still hot.” with a sweet voice. Then it finally hit me. This was a dream. I looked around me, up in the sky with amazement. It was wonderful to see the stars like this. While I gazed up, the Angels encouraged me: “Yes. By all means, take a good look.” I got the sense that there was a bit of stress in the air. Not from the Angels, but from other people outside or something. It is hard to explain, but I felt as if there was a sense of coming dread that lingered in people’s minds. Like we were in the eye of a storm. And I could pick up on that. But I felt safe. The Angels would protect me. But whatever was going on, something was about to happen. And I think that’s why they were there.

 

Analysis:

I am unsure what this dream was about. There seems to have been a lot of symbolism in this dream, though the looming threat is something that I think was the one thing that was not figurative. I believe the birds resembled observant humans. The birds knew something was about to happen. They can see with sharp eyes, can go higher to take a better look, and can get out of harm’s way quickly when needed.

The Angels that surrounded me I think showed me they have taken notice of me. Perhaps they were showing me a fondness they have for me? Or were there to guide me through what was going to occur? I do not know.

I was sitting on the top of my brother’s childhood bunk bed. Back when we were children we both had our own, slept on the top, and had toys on the bottom plateaus. But I wasn’t sitting on my own bed, but on his. I didn’t know those sheets, but they were the whitest smoothest silk I can imagine. Maybe this refers to me being in his position at that moment, or showing me I need to try and place myself in his shoes?

The star that dimmed and fell must be some metaphor for something that is going to happen. It was supposedly too hot for me to touch, but it didn’t burn the sheets. Were these perhaps heavenly sheets that covered me? What does the marble stand for? Why did it fall in my lap?

It was my childhood bedroom. Maybe this showed me that I am still a child spiritually, amongst a host of wise and mature spiritual beings?

That dark sky full of stars was wonderful though. I took that moment in. That something bad was going to happen didn’t deter me from looking around, and somehow it felt like it was a pleasant surprise to the Angels that I took that moment for myself.

Date: 29-07-2021 

This dream started somewhere on the streets of Amersfoort. I was with D. We came across my friend JH. I told JH how I had accepted a new job, cause in that dream I was asked to be a chef for a restaurant, somewhere in Suriname. JH was excited. He thought it was fantastic news. He then told us he is actually from Suriname (in real life he is actually from Indonesia). I responded to that stating I could possibly run into family of his there then. He said that indeed a brother of his still lives there.

Then an old Indonesian man on a mobility scooter drove towards us and stopped next to us on the road. JH and this old man were exhilarated at the sight of the other. This was that brother of his! They performed a kind of complicated handshake and hugged. Then JH introduced us to each other. I am not sure but I think his name was Mike or Michael. Mike was a very joyful old man. He looked somewhat like my friend JH too. It was clear they were related. But Mike had a much darker skin than JH. I thought to myself this must be because Mike lives in a much sunnier part of the world. Mike’s hair was black though, maybe he had put a dye in it. Mike was a guy without any shame and seemed to enjoy life to the fullest.

“This is Willem!” said JH to him. “Ah, so you’re Willem. It’s good to meet you, Willem. I have so much to tell you. The both of you.” But before he told us anything they first had a brotherly moment, where they seemed to re-enact a routine of theirs from their younger days. Mike got out of the scooter, and performed some kind of improvized dance. It was hilarious! JH told me his brother is 72 years old. “Seventy Eight!” Corrected Mike. That sparked a back and forth between them, but Mike maintained he was 78 years of age. Mike then told me he was famous as he had gotten a part in the TV-series ‘The Big Bang Theory’, which is a comedy about nerds. He performed a piece of a scene where he was in, but neither D nor I recalled the scene. I whispered into JH’s ear: “I’ve never seen that series.” JH winked at me, and whispered back: “Neither have I.”

While the two of them talked (and they had so much to tell each other) I really needed to go to the toilet. We were near my parents’ house, so I thought I’d pop in and relief myself there. I walked up the driveway and to the little square in front of the garage. There was a white fan parked on the square, and around it I saw a cat, a baby bird, and a squirrel. The cat was chasing after the other two animals. He couldn’t catch the squirrel, but the little chick was about to be caught by the cat. I intervened. At first I did not intend to hurt the cat, and just scared him off, then picked up the little birdy.

But my scare tactic had only worked temporarily, as the cat returned, now focussing its efforts on catching the squirrel. Now I got physical, and managed to land a soft slap on the cat’s head. It ran off. I put the chick on the ground now, thinking this was over, but as soon as I had turned my back and walked away, this dreadful cat returned and continued to chase the other animals, again! I realised this cat would just keep returning to this spot to kill these animals if I didn’t give it a reason to stay away. With all my strength I landed a kick on the hind leg of the cat, and it screamed out in a loud cry, after immediately running off, with me in pursuit for the first 20 feet, still trying to land more kicks, to ensure it would not return. But the neighbours had obviously heard the cry of pain from this cat, and I had no idea who’s cat this was. It could’ve been theirs, so I left in a hurry without even going to the toilet.

I had forgotten about needing to relieve myself, and returned to JH and his brother. They apparently had taken a walk together, and Mike now no longer had nor needed a mobility scooter. He did still have his cane. I do not know where D was. She was no longer part of this scene as if she had not been there the whole time. I caught up with them and then Mike started explaining to me about how he knew the elite will try to push through their digital currency. “They’ve been working towards this a long long time. They will freeze all bank accounts.” I interjected: “Most financial assets are invested assets.” “Exactly!” Replied Mike firm but calmly: “They will claim it happened through a hack. They will make everyone’s digital money disappear. Only bank accounts of – let’s say – 50 million they will not touch. Then they’ll introduce their new coins. Digital coins. A global currency. This cannot be stopped. It will happen.”

Then, suddenly, I was in Suriname. I was at my new job. The surroundings were beautiful jungle, and the village where I resided consisted of all wooden structures. It was lively and everyone there was very friendly. My dad who had passed away was there too. I too had my own wooden house. A few very pretty young ladies lived next door to me, in their own wooden house. They were joking on the porch about how I lived there “all alone” and was “so lonely”. I joked back at them saying: “I’m only alone at night in my big comfortable bed.” As if suggesting they should visit me then. “Oh, because D isn’t here, right?” She winked. But it was all jokes. We all knew it. I had been unabatedly loyal to D even in this far away world. And I wasn’t lonely at all, because I enjoyed my own company, and I could literally knock on any door at any time and there would be joyful company waiting for me welcoming me into their house. It was such a nice place. But then I said in a more serious tone to my beautiful neighbour: “D sometimes gets insecure about all these women I know, so perhaps we should lay off the jokes a bit.” She understood and agreed.

There was a small square where our houses were situated around. It wasn’t paved; just sand and dirt. In the middle was some kind of fireplace, or perhaps even a place for a barbecue. That’s where the food was cooked for this community. My dad stood there too and they were busy with making some kind of bread, with meat on it. As for some kind of finishing touch the flame had to crawl over the meat when the meat was put on the bread. My dad couldn’t get that last part right. “Can I give it a try?” I asked him. He handed me the stuff in his hands. I tried, and I succeeded! Though with some improvising, and not entirely as it should have happened, but the end result was just perfect. Flawless even. I felt so at home there at that moment. I truly belonged here. But now the feeling got to me that at home, in The Netherlands, there probably is a lot of misery and suffering, and the people I knew there had to go through it all without any of my help. I thought to myself: “It’s only for a year. Then I’ll return back.” And that’s when I woke up.

 

Analysis:

JH is an Indonesian man of 68 years of age. The first years of his live he has lived in Indonesia. He’s a Jehovah’s Witness, and one of the most sincere people I have ever met. He’s always happy and joyful, and if he has something serious to say, he always knows how to communicate it with the weight it needs to have. I think in this dream his brother was an Angel. Maybe his comments about having landed a role in The Big Bang Theory comedy series is a metaphor for having had a part to play in the actual big bang; the birth of our universe. Suriname might have been a metaphor for heaven, or otherwise another place of enlightenment.

The cat, the chick, and the squirrel scene perhaps depict things that are going to happen in our world. The power of evil, hunting the innocent, just like the elite misuse their power as if they have no equal in power that could challenge them.

I can only guess to the implications of the metaphor of this dream that suggests I will go to Suriname for one year, but whatever it is, I am open to it. I want that. It feels like something I want to do because I can do it, and because it can help humanity.

The warnings Mike voiced I think I can take quite literally. He said it would happen and that it cannot be stopped. He was crystal clear in his wording. But he didn’t say it would remain so. I think it will implode. Whatever the elites will try to get us to accept this digital currency, and with it digital slavery, it will not take.

Date: 23-03-2021

This dream was very abstract and I only remember certain pieces of it. Let me see what I can recover.

The scene where this took place was a very large round room, that went up very high. I couldn’t even see the ceiling. There was a lot of floodlights up high or something, but it was distant. It looked very much like the Klingon Court room from the Star Trek universe. Its walls were also rough and rocky. And just like in Star Trek, there were rows dug out of the rock wall where seats were placed. There was an audience in the room 360 degrees round and stacked up on each other on different levels, as far as I could see. But the audience was a mix of onlookers, defendants, and jury members. They were all mixed, so they sat next to each other on any and every level.

I was seated on a wooden bench, somewhere on the ground floor, down below. As far as I know I was an onlooker. Someone was being brought to justice. I didn’t see a lawyer. I don’t think there was one. There was a judge, with both to his left and right three higher jury members, so seven in total. They were all situated on a raised desk that stood on top of a wooden pedestal. Any person who was being brought to justice in this court had to listen to the proof that was being presented, and the ruling that followed it. But the sense I got from the atmosphere was not bitter or grim. There was understanding and forgiveness in this court. I think the higher jury members and the judge were Angels. There was something supernatural about them. But they were not without judgement, and they presented the proof and brought the verdict in a stern tone.

The person that was now being judged stood on the ground floor of the round chamber, down below in front of the high jury. He was dressed really well. I recall thinking that he did this to appeal to the court, but I recall I had an inner dialogue where I realised that it doesn’t matter how you look: “Under our clothes everyone is naked, and we all have to take a shit sometimes.” I also thought to myself that this guy must’ve been a real heartless jackass during his life. He really looked it. But before this court it seems he had let go of that persona, and what remained was a sad little weasel. He stood with his head bowed down in front of the judge and jury. In front of this panel was a table where evidence was presented.

But now comes the interesting part. He stood trial for something really bad. Something like corruption and self-enrichment at the cost of the freedom and joy of the life of others he cared not for. Something along those lines. Something that had influenced the whole world really really negatively, any way. A real corrupt and greedy bastard. But in this court, his abuse was transformed into a metaphor by the judge and the higher jury members. This made it easier to understand for everyone what he had done exactly. At a gesture of one of the high jury members, a piece of clothing materialised on this table. But it wasn’t a piece of clothing that was the metaphor, but the making of that piece of clothing that was tainted. That labour stood for the suffering of others, and the piece of clothing was the end product. When this thing materialised, all manner of things started happening.

The piece of clothing was weaved with many different colours of thread. Let’s say it was a shawl to make this easier to understand. It was clearly visible the shawl consisted out of many different threads, each with its own distinct colour. The many different colours were metaphors for the many different motives to create the shawl by all those that were involved in its creation. And most colours were actually fine, meaning those were good motives, nothing punishable. Some were truly good motives even. But one thread with a specific colour was the bad one. It was weaved in and out throughout the whole shawl.

It was visible on all parts of the shawl, and it looked like it didn’t even have to had been part of the shawl at all. This one symbolised the bad, and it stood for all the suffering it had caused. Everyone present in that courtroom, regardless of their role, understood this. But besides this shawl materialising, something else began to manifest. From the shawl led many different threads to people seated in the courtroom. They connected them at their hearts, as if the thread entered their body. But not everyone could see every thread, and everyone also understood this instantly. You could only see the threads of the connections you were aware of. These threads symbolised how other people were connected to the creation of this shawl, whether good or bad. It’s even possible some people didn’t even see their own thread, but everyone knew at some level what conduct they had in it all and to which extent they were complicit.

But this web of threads kept growing. The more people saw, the more they understood the bigger picture. The structure of threads kept growing and expanding, and from the table at the centre it became apparent that it was a very interconnected situation. There were even threads between people, to showcase how they had influenced each other into the events that led to the creation of the shawl. And after a short while it became apparent that everyone in that courtroom was connected to this, with the exception of the judge and his six higher jury members. The biggest question of all on everyone’s mind was; who were connected to the shawl through the bad thread? The one for which the person in question stood trial. It was up to the higher jury members to figure this out now.

But because the structure of the threads had become so huge and was an apparent mess it was not at all clear where the bad thread led towards. Some people had multiple threads connected to them, and sometimes multiple colours. It wasn’t clear who had what part in the bad. But the answer to that came, as the high jury through telekinesis unweaved the threads slowly. And everyone present in the room felt a bit of anxiety, and maybe even some fear, because we all thought to ourselves: “Is it possible I have a share in the blame?” And as it turned out, that was true for everyone. Everyone. The bad thread ran through everyone in that court, except again the judge and high jury.

Not everyone was equally guilty, as not everyone was connected equally strong to the bad thread than others. Some had a bigger share in the blame than others. The man who stood trial was unmistakably the most guilty by far. He was connected with the bad thread from head to toe. There was no denying it. He had been a very bad person. But with everything now having been made easy to understand by the metaphor I actually felt pity for him. I too had a bad thread that led from the shawl straight into my torso. Because of this I felt complicit. I think everyone felt that way. I pondered whether if no one had connected themselves to this bad thread if this man standing trial would even have done what he did. Maybe we all created the circumstances for him to do what he did.

 

Analysis:

I can keep this short. Whatever bad happens in the world through the systems in which we live, we all have our part to play, and we all share in the blame. At least most of us. And probably not all to the same degree, and also probably some few share the absolute bulk of it, but few hands are truly clean.