Date: 13-03-2021 

I think I didn’t accurately record the date for this dream. It was dated on 11-03-2021, but perhaps that’s when I last made an edit. I put it on the 13th, but only because I don’t want push it back further than what I can be sure of. Here’s the dream:

This dream started on a shopping ship. I have no idea if such a thing even exists. It was a giant ship, the size of a cruise ship, and it was filled with shops like it was a floating shopping-mall. Every floor had its own theme; toys, electronics, furniture, etc. But sometimes just random shops that didn’t fit the theme. I was on “the ground floor” which was the floor on which you boarded the ship. Below and above us were more floors. My mom was with me, but she went to do her own thing quite early in the dream. We would do our things separately from here.

I was looking for a toilet, because, yes, this again; I had to pee. But then I recalled I had talked to a hacker online, and he had advised me to purchase an external DVD-player. And I remembered this hacker was also on this vessel, so I just started shouting his name, hahaha. Other people even joined in, and miraculously the calls were answered. The reply came from the toilet area. Good! I was looking for the bathroom too, so now I found both him and the bathroom.

The toilet stalls were more like the fitting rooms you’d find in clothing shops. There was a toilet bowl, a coat stand, and a curtain you could draw for privacy. A little boy emerged behind one of the curtains, maybe 10 years of age. He asked out loud: “Which one of you is called ‘Monster’?” In the dream this was the nickname I had used, so I replied to him. I asked him about the DVD-player he had recommended. But he was in defensive mode: “I’m not talking.” I was surprised. He affirmed: “I’m not talking until you prove you are who you claim you are.” It was a smart way for him to confirm if I wasn’t anyone else trying to out him. Everyone could’ve said yes to his question. I showed him our conversation on my phone, and added additional details. He lowered his guard, and turned out to be real friendly.

He was just cautious being a hacker and all. He gave me directions to a few shops where I would be likely to get the device from for a decent price. I set out to look for those shops, forgetting about my own need to use the bathroom. While walking I suddenly entered the greenhouse at my work, and it was being renovated. I saw people I knew but also many I didn’t. They were working really hard, but also the plants were being taken care of; they were being sprayed with some kind of “care fluid” and dead leafs were being removed. In the dream I “wondered off” for a couple of hours, and returned to the greenhouse to find the renovation works were finished. It looked extraordinarily fine at first glance.

That was until I came across a bunch of dead plants. They still had their form, but they were all brown in colour. My boss had joined me now and saw the dead plants. He told me he wasn’t going to let this go. “They’re going to reimburse us!” He said. As he walked out I noticed that the renovations had included a sprinkler system in the hallway. And these new sprinklers sprang on just as I noticed them. Because they were spraying so hard and nowhere in particular, most water didn’t end up in plant pots, but would just spill over the floor. The hallway floor was getting wet and a puddle was creeping over the floor in the direction of our wooden tribune stairs.

I quickly found a large floor squeegee to move the water in the direction of a drain. The renovation works had included the placement of extra drains, which was something we had requested a few times actually. Part of the puddle seemed to move itself towards the drain, and I wondered how long this had been going on, cause me and my colleagues occasionally found “mystery pools” of water inside the greenhouse for real, so in the dream I reasoned that maybe this was the source. I kept using the floor squeegee to prevent water damage to the tribune stairs, but meanwhile my need to use the bathroom had come back, and I really needed to address this now. I no longer could postpone it, so I left this water drama as I found it.

Walking through the enormous structure I couldn’t find any bathrooms at all. Eventually I did find a train station. Curious. On a ship. On the station itself there were no toilets, but there was a train standing idle at one of the platforms. Trains have toilets, so I just entered the train. It didn’t matter where it went, I desperately needed to relieve myself. The doors closed and the train started moving while I searched for its latrine. And I found it, opened the door, saw an enormously spacious long narrow bathroom, where in the back a man was standing, using the toilet. Maybe he had forgotten to lock the door? I closed the door again, and waited outside until he exited. When he did, I entered, locked the door behind me, and went looking for the toilet in this enormous room.

I again couldn’t find it! It looked different now, like I had to crawl through some maintenance cabins with all sorts of panels, hatches, beams, tubes, etc. Finally I arrived in the main area. There was a bench where someone else was waiting. It seemed like a passenger and not someone waiting to use the toilet. It was confusing. But in the back I finally saw the actual toilet bowl. But to the immediate left side of the bowl sat two Indian looking men, squatted. They were just talking there… I addressed the man on the bench, and asked him whether he was aware he was in the toilet area. He knew: “Yes, but the train was so busy, and I really wanted a place to sit.” The train was indeed quite busy. “Would you mind if I made use of the facilities?” I asked. “No, not at all. Go right ahead.” He answered.

I walked to the toilet bowl, where those men were talking in Hindi. I truly needed to go now, so I did not bother with my manners. Who in their right mind would choose this place to sit down and have a talk, next to a public toilet bowl?! I firmly said: “Sorry, but I have to use the toilet.” They looked up angrily and did nothing. They stayed in place, so I just opened my fly. Still they didn’t move! So, after a few seconds, I just whipped it out, and started doing my business. But these two men still didn’t fucking move! They were just giving me the angry eyes while I stood there, pissing. What was wrong with these guys? I did try not to create too much of a splatter, but the train now entered its next station, meaning it was swinging left to right as it crossed a bunch of junctions to get to the right entry track. And of course, my stream promptly took a path over the pants of the man nearest to the bowl.

And he got all mad at me, but started his angry rant in Hindi. Of course I couldn’t understand a word he said, and it was unclear to me whether he spoke no Dutch at all or whether this man was simply impolite to an extreme degree. But I was mad at him too, obviously. So I interjected him and said: “Look, man. Don’t like getting pissed on? Then don’t sit there!” Now a fourth person entered the room which I was pretty sure I locked. That explained why I was able to enter the first time; the lock was broken. It might also explain why there were so many people in this particular space at all. There should only be one person at any one given time.

It was getting too crowded in there and that Indian guy didn’t shut up either, so I left. I wanted to find out which train I was in. I tried to get this info by using a travelling app, to no avail. The maps app didn’t work either. But then the conductor announced over the intercom which train this was. It was the train to Maastricht via Venlo. That shocked me slightly. None of these cities were anywhere near a place I would call close to home. It was going to be a long journey back home. I got off at the station. I think this was Venlo. It was an old city. There were canals, maybe a lake or very large pond? It looked like some place I might have visited before. I walked around and I felt differently.

I felt like I was light as a feather. Every time I pushed off from the ground, it would take longer and longer for me to come back down to the ground. The harder I pushed and the more often I did so, the longer this took. Like a man walking on the moon I moved quite rapidly along a path along side the water. It was busy with pedestrians. I literally jumped over everyone else, but I wasn’t the only one to do this. Others apparently were able to do this too. Everyone had their own way of doing it, and everyone had a different level of skill. Some barely got off the ground while others flew through the sky like rockets. It was amazing!

I wanted to try and fly like them, so I tried to find out what my maximum time of remaining airborne was, without pushing off. I found out that I didn’t have to push myself off the ground at all, I would just hover all by myself by thinking it. Through my will I could change my direction and height. This I tried for a while, practising this new found skill. I sometimes made swimming movements, but that was out of reflex. It wasn’t necessary. I got better at it, and it was so incredibly cool. I decided I would just fly home instead of taking the train, and was looking forward to that journey. But first I needed to relax a bit. Like I was laying in a hammock I rested just above the grass near the side of the water. This was very enjoyable. I took it all in. What a day.

After spending some time resting, I was ready. I was going to fly back home. I did give myself a little push with my foot, but it wasn’t necessary. I levitated upwards. But while I was trying to get my bearings, I saw someone I knew, walking on the street. It was an old colleague of mine, and her nickname was Rose. She had two young children with her. Rose was always a sight to behold, but her hair was now even more beautiful than it used to be. She was almost illuminating. Her hair was also straight now, where it used to be curly, and it was loose, where she would normally wear it in a ponytail. When she saw me it seemed I had startled her a bit.

I must’ve been illuminating myself too, and I was the first to say something: “Hi Rose! How are you? You look magnificent!” She was happy to see me. We had a brief conversation. Most of the details of this escaped me. I do recall it was sometimes slightly awkward. She had been through a lot. And she now had two children. But she was happy now. I told her about my long lasting quest to find a toilet, and how I ended up here after pissing over some Indian guy’s legs. We had a laugh at the surreality of it. She wished me luck flying back home. “Thanks, Rose! I wish you well.” I replied. Then I took off.

I flew over the city centre. It consisted out of old houses and narrow alleyways. But as I went along, I felt I was slowly losing my flying mojo, and I had to occasionally push myself off again from the tops of the buildings, or grip myself on the rain drainage. But I found that all the houses had some kind of decorative ridges along their walls just under the roof tiles and drainage. I could sometimes take a moment to rest there, or push off again when I needed to. Very convenient, as if it was made for this. I began losing ever more flying abilities, and I was “stumbling” while airborne, struggling to maintain height and direction.

I rested some more on the ridge that was above an outside terrace where people were seated under a parasol. They were all old folk, enjoying a beverage in the summer evening sun. I kept quiet so they wouldn’t hear me, and I overheard them talking. They were talking about the very ridges along the houses I was resting on. An old lady explained: “A long time ago, in the early days, there were people who could build works of art using just words. We called them truth speakers. These people could fly. Those ridges were made for them so they could rest here. We wanted them to feel welcome here, cause they came from afar. They were Veeners.”

I was listening to this and thought to myself this description does seem to fit me. “So I am a Veener? Curious. And I am a truth speaker!” There was a moment of realisation. I found it fascinating. I realised I had to get back home, to finish what I started; my website. Then I woke up. Take a guess what I really needed to do when I woke up.

 

Analysis:

Last night before I went to bed I had made changes to a part of my website I was not happy about. Something about it was wrong and some things were missing, and so I wanted to improve that chapter. I think I now succeeded in writing down what it was supposed to be. The passage I have written and adapted are about what I dubbed ‘the Spark of Life’. In Dutch, a ‘spark’ is called ‘vonk’. The last name of my colleague is the Dutch word for Spark. Make of it what you will.

Date: 12-03-2021 

Introduction:

Last night I didn’t sleep too well. I had some stomach cramps which I also sometimes felt in the dream world. Of the many dreams I had I recall two.

Jealous:

The first dream involved my brother and sister. I think this took place in my sister’s house, but I also recognised elements from the neighbourhood where my student dorm was where I had lived. I recall a gate door at the front of the house, that closed off an alleyway that led to the back of the house. It was a sliding door, white in colour. I had opened it and went around back, where I met my sister who I had come to visit. But unbeknownst to me our brother was there too, and he was not in a good mood. He was mad at me, and I felt from his energy that this anger was based on something unfair. He berated me about my website. Apparently things had been leaked from the website, which was strange as the website is publicly available online. Everyone can see it. But I got the sense his anger was actually concealed jealousy. This is why.

He took the approach that in his opinion my dreams are “just dreams” and they don’t hold any significance. He criticised me for having published things on my site from the context of being inspired by vivid dreams, but that was nonsense according to him. But while listening through his rant I discovered what this was actually about. He had read my encounter with our dad in a lucid dream, and put emphasis on how that wasn’t real. It was a dream. His jealousy was evident. He begrudged me that experience, and in his eyes I didn’t have any right to interpret it as anything other than just a dream. But he referred to lucid dreams he himself had which he argued were actually real, and which had revealed to him the dream world was more real than what we call the real world. I figured he was jealous because he wanted to have had this lucid experience with dad himself.

Because I had sensed how his rant was based on dishonest and unfair reasoning, I was able to keep my cool. I chose to flat out ignore him. But deep inside his words hurt me, and they struck a nerve which I felt developing into anger towards this man. He had so much potential to wake up and stay awake. It was through him I found my own awakening, because of our interactions after he had a crisis a few years back. I did not want another fight. It was bad enough he didn’t want to talk to me at all, but I’d rather have that than have some kind of meaningless argument with him. But now he got mad at me for ignoring him, and that made me bite my tongue. He himself ignored me when I asked him to talk things through.

I angrily interjected him, and exclaimed: “You were the one to ignore me, so don’t you want me to leave you alone then? Cause that’s what I am doing now. Maybe you can leave me alone too?” He had no reply to that, and relented in silence. He then sat down again, morphed into a younger version of himself – about 10 years old – but kept morphing and morphing until he turned into some short legged black beast, that melted into a gooey puddle of shiny tar-like liquid that slithered away over the floor. In the dream itself this was completely normal and not out of place, but when I woke up I realised how utterly bizarre that part of the dream was. I left my sister’s house shortly after, and had to take a series of blue buses, all different bus lines. At some point M was with me again and we travelled together. Whatever was bothering him earlier he now got out of his system and we were kind to each other again.

Empty:

The second dream I had has mostly escaped me. This I remember. It was about some kind of artificial tropical paradise that was being built. Me and D were also involved in the design of that place, and we were walking along a path where new sunbathing slots had to be placed. We divided the available space into squares in such a way there would be room for a parking lot. D was holding a piece of paper, or possibly even an iPad, and whenever she drew something, it would immediately be placed like it was a virtual environment.

I don’t recall much of the things that happened, but I do recall the atmosphere and my mood. The tone of this place was dull. Empty. It didn’t have a soul. We did what we did, some meaningless task in preparation of a meaningless activity in an uninspiring place. It was barren, there was only grass. The sunbathing slots were indicated by black rubber tiles like the ones you’d find on playgrounds under the swing and tumble bars. I wasn’t happy there.

 

Date: 11-03-2021 

Where this dream started was fuzzy. A lot of things had already transpired from where I was able to pick up memories of this dream, but I forgot them, or they were too abstract to remember. We (me and a group of friends) were walking in a cosy little street with shops on either side in some kind of tropical place. The shops all had stalls in front of their display windows, where they sold additional products. In the dream I knew all the people in our group, but I can only name my mother as one of them I actually know in this life. While we were browsing around I saw one of the teachers of a former school I went to (ROCMN). Her name is JdJ.

The moment she saw me she looked back at me with an angry face. I knew what this was about. (Something happened at that school a long time ago. Long story.) But I did not feel any shame or guilt about it, as I knew I had done the right thing back then. Nevertheless I was happy to see her, and greeted her. Twice, as she did not reply the first time. She tried to maintain a disapproving angry demeanour towards me, but the second time I greeted her in my friendly manner I broke through that wall, and she relaxed and smiled.

She asked me (in English, for some reason): “Willem, do you safe up money on a savings account?” I answered this to her in Dutch: “Yes I do. At least, I do when I can.” This wasn’t completely true. She answered: “If you can. Hmmmm. That’s good.” I followed up with a question of my own: “Quite a personal question. Why do you wish to know this?” She smiled: “Oh, I don’t care to know the information, I was just curious whether you would answer honestly.” I hadn’t.

We moved on. I now met a girl with long dark hair. Quite a cute girl. She was about my age. I knew her in the dream. She was happy to see me, and I was happy to see her too. We went into a restaurant, and went out back where they had a sun terrace, and a small field of grass where kids could play and people could sit. On that grassy field were a lot of people, also many of who I knew. One of them was Luke. I have no idea who Luke is in real life but in the dream the girl and I had gone to the same school as Luke, and the three of us were in the same class. Luke was always a short child, but he was still short in his adult life, no more than 4 feet tall. He did get a good bit broader though, and therefore looked like a muscular school child.

I called out to him. He was actually playing with the young children there, even though he was an adult. Luke came over and we talked. I mentioned his height (or lack thereof) and Luke was quite at peace with it. He didn’t take offence where neither I meant any. But he often didn’t hear me well, and at one point I actually picked him up and carried him on my arm, like he was a child. I jokingly said: “Here, now you can see the world from my height.” He laughed: “Yeah, this is much better.”

I walked a few paces towards the girl I was with. The three of us talked until a group of children ran past us, immersed in a play. Luke jumped off my arm and joined them in their play. The girl giggled: “Look at him. He looks just like a kid!” I laughed too: “Yeah, he hasn’t changed much. He did get more muscular though. He looks like a kid that has been bench pressing for the Olympic games.” We laughed together and watched Luke and the kids play. Luke was totally fine with who he was. Truly admirable.

The girl I was with wanted to cuddle. A friendly cuddle, to be clear. We found my mother’s old rocking chair inside the restaurant and we crawled into it together. But my mom was in the restaurant too, and she had overheard us talking, and wanted to join us. Since it was her chair we didn’t feel like we could refuse her, so the three of us crawled into the chair. Though the chair was big, it would probably already have been quite cosy with just the two of us. Since my mother was not at all skinny like the girl and I, it was simply uncomfortable for all of us. I quickly decided that I did not want this, and neither did the girl. I had to pee, so that was a perfect excuse to go, and the girl went with me.

The restaurant was now actually the living room of my old house where that chair used to be. The rest of the furniture matched the time of when that rocking chair stood there. I went out, and went upstairs to the upstairs bathroom. Upstairs things had drastically changed. It looked like some kind of lookout post, with a large glass pain facing the street. I sat down on the toilet, but immediately noticed curtains being drawn aside in the houses on the other side of the street. People had seen me. But then I noticed a curtain rail above the glass window, and that rail went all the way to the back of the toilet. Behind the toilet bowl I saw the same burgundy curtains as we had downstairs, and I drew them closed. That almost went sideways because there was no stopper at the end of the rail, but I was able to fix that. When I was finished I still wasn’t relieved. I still had to go.

I went outside now, where I joined the group of people I was with earlier. It was dark now. We walked into the direction of the adjacent street. On that street was a kind of parade ongoing. But nothing about the parade was fun. Everyone was bored and it was very unspectacular and dull. It was organised by the government to give us something to look forward to during lockdowns. But it was stupendously shitty. It ended with a fireworks show, but it was increasingly evident that everyone agreed that it was even more shitty than the shitty parade. Nobody cared. Compared to my fireworks shows, this was child’s play. Since the lockdowns, fireworks had been forbidden in NL. In the dream I came to the realisation I might never again make such a show with large calibre fireworks. It had been abolished.

The parade now over, I saw some of my old fireworks in a box on the street, like I had forgotten to bring them in last year and they had just stood there all year. I said to the others: “With only this little box I could’ve made something more impressive than that shitty show we just saw.” There were a lot of young children among our number, and so I lighted some of my fireworks to improve the mood. They loved it! Then all my friends got onto the back of a cart pulled by a tractor, that slowly drove off, crossing the street. My friends called my name and signalled me to join them. I jumped on, and it moved off. In the air we could still see the smoke of the shitty fireworks show.

But looking at the smoke we now also saw the stars were out, and they were truly pretty. Too pretty, I’d say, like it was fake. It looked like an over exposed deep space telescope photo, all across the sky. We could see stars, planets, nebulas, galaxies. You name it we saw it. But then I noticed something. Something truly bizarre. There was a dog in the air. It was walking, in mid air. It was at a height about where the smoke was, and it was walking into the direction of the smoke, like there was an invisible glass pane there. I pointed the dog out to everyone: “Check this out! Look! There’s a dog in the sky! How did it get over there?” We all stared at it confused and wondering. We didn’t understand how this could happen. It was so strange!

Someone mentioned that they had seen that exact dog with us on ground level when the parade was ongoing. I too recalled that when they mentioned this. I thought to myself: “Do these government faggots have something to do with this?” Cause I did not understand what I was seeing, and how it was possible. I also didn’t know if this dog was hurt by this. Was it perhaps dead and trapped in a world in between ours and the realm of the dead? Was this a secret government experiment? I didn’t know exactly what had caused this, but I was quite certain I was looking at something I was not allowed to have seen, and it felt like something that some agency wanted to keep secret, and not some natural anomaly.

The tractor continued driving, and we eventually ended up in an unpleasant urban neighbourhood, but I don’t recall much of what happened there. When I woke up – you guessed it – I really had to take a leak, haha.

Date: 10-03-2021

This is the most pleasant dream I have had in a long time. I became lucid.

The dream started in a somewhat confusing setting. I was staying somewhere in a bungalow perhaps, near a forest. Something like a vacation house or bed and breakfast. I am not sure about the nature of why I was there, but what I do know is that I left through the front door to go take a stroll through nature. To get to the forest I needed to follow the narrow stream of a creek. The creek took a path through a domestic area. Houses, a shop here and there, a school. It would eventually enter the forest area after a while. Along the way of following the narrow stream, I passed along a lot of construction work and road work. I didn’t pay much attention to it, but it meant that my journey would be accompanied by background noises of hammers hitting iron, blade saws, and loudly talking/yelling workmen.

I followed the stream until I reached the edge of the forest, but from that point onwards the water in the stream seemed to lessen and lessen, until it almost seemed to dry up. And that was indeed what was happening. The further along I followed it the dryer it became. It went from water, to watery, to murky, to muddy, to silt, to wet ground. Some patches were entirely dried up. I kept walking and after some distance I saw a white dove in the mud. And another, and another. I walked closer to the edge of the bank. The ground was pretty solid. I could walk on it, without my feet sinking in.

I approached one of the animals. It was still alive! As I picked it up out of the mud it seemed to awake out of some kind of slumber and flew off in a panic. The next dove, same exact thing. I kept going, and discovered one more after the other. Different animals too. Not all of them were alive though. Some were dead. I also found rats. It was mostly doves and rats. Someone passed by on the path that ran parallel to the banks of where the stream was. He threw me a judgemental comment, something like telling me I’m nuts or something (“Jij spoort echt niet.”) for doing this, but that remark didn’t stick at all. I had my focus on trying to free the animals that got stuck, and didn’t care what anyone else thought.

Eventually I found a rat that was very far into a stage of decay. I wanted to remove it still, as I realised that even though it was already dead, its decaying body would contaminate the water. The animals still alive would be killed if the water returned. Alive or dead; all animals had to be removed. And besides this I found it a bit disrespectful to leave dead animals like this, so I removed the dead ones and buried them, using twigs and leafs so I didn’t have to touch them. It became quite a task I had taken onto myself. But there still was this one rat that was so far into its state of decay, I had no means of removing it, other than using my hands. And I didn’t want to do that.

But then I remembered something. On my way to the forest, in the corner of my eye, I had seen one of the many workmen use one of those garbage pincers. I reckoned he would probably allow me to borrow them from him if I asked nicely. So, I went back, but didn’t see that guy anywhere. So I walked around the construction terrain, scanning the ground which had tools scattered all over the place. There was a man in grey overalls wearing a red shirt under them, who looked on from a short distance at what I was doing. I paid little attention to him at first. He seemed kinda familiar, but I couldn’t think of where I might know him from. I didn’t look at him directly as to prevent getting into a conversation I had no time for, and kept focused on my task.

I kept searching for that damned thing. And of course he asked me: “What are you looking for?” While I kept searching, I explained it to him in the shortest way I could, leaving out many details: “There is a dead rat in the mud upstream and I want to remove it but don’t have anything on me I can use. I’m looking for one of those garbage pincers.” He then pointed at the ground somewhere and said: “There’s one.” I grabbed it, while thanking him, never once looking directly at him, and went back to the forest, still trying to determine where I knew that guy from. He was so familiar. But I just couldn’t put my finger on it. Eventually I reached the location of the decaying rat. From here I am unsure whether or not I succeeded in getting that thing out of the mud, cause from this moment something happened that rarely happens to me in dreams. But when it does happen, it is always an amazing experience. And this one might be my favourite one yet.

I realised this was a dream and became lucid. This is how that happened. I suddenly realised who that was. The grey overalls, the red shirt, the tools, his voice: “That was dad… He was working in his company work clothes. But… he was dead. How can that be? But wait a minute, where am I? What kind of strange place is this, and why am I in a forest pulling white animals out of the mud? Hold on… this… is a dream! This is a dream! I’m in a dream!” I could do anything I want now. But of all the things I could do, there was only one thing I wanted to do. I knew this was probably one of few unique chances I would get to see my dad in the beyond and talk to him. All I needed to do was go back to the place in this dream where he was. And so I did.

I literally flew back to the spot, like I was a sentient bottle rocket that flew along the ground. I was there within a second! But the destination of this swift and magical means of motion was the end of the driveway of my dad’s old house; the home where my mother now lives alone. The front door was open, and dad came walking through that door, wearing those same clothes as before, his typical work attire. In his left hand he held his own made wooden case containing his electric screw driver and all its utilities, and in his right hand his signature bucket containing all his other tools, like hammers, saws, wrenches, and what not sticking out the top. His facial expression was his typical one too. My brother and I used to mimic that look and he hated when we did that. He had the typical look on his face when he is tasked with a difficult job; tense and grumpy.

But when he saw me, he relaxed and looked so happy. I ran towards him, and he dropped his stuff as I fast approached him and he caught me. We hugged in a long embrace. Oh man how I had missed this. His badly shaved chin felt like sandpaper on my cheek, as it always would when he hugged us when we were little. I used to dislike it but now it was the best feeling ever. We both cried. I could hear him cry too, which was so not him. He hid his emotions from us, never would’ve allowed to show what he considered weakness. This was a very real and intense moment for us both. The embrace lasted long. Neither of us wanted to let go, as if we both knew the moment would be over as soon as we did.

But after a few minutes of crying and hugging, and telling each other how much we loved the other, I was the one to break the embrace. I wanted to tell him what was going on in the world and in my live, and ask him for his help. Cause before I went to sleep, I had suddenly thought of him just out of the blue, and it was a really strong sensation of feeling him. Like he was really there. And I just thought to myself I might as well pretend he’s here and talk to him, and if he’s not here, it’s no one’s loss but my own time and effort. So I “talked” to him out loud, and asked him that if there was anything he could do for us here on Earth if he would please do that. And so, I tried to ask him in this lucid dream too. I looked at him, still holding his arms, and his arms holding mine. He looked back at me, so happy. I tried to find the words for my request, but I just couldn’t. As I searched for the words I felt I was losing focus, and the lucid part of the dream was slipping away.

But I pushed through. I had to ask this. My will was strong. Crying, and almost convulsing, I got these words out: “Dad, since you left, the world has really turned to shit. It’s so bad. It’s so terribly bad. I don’t know if I can do this, dad.” He remained quiet. He said nothing. He smiled ever more satisfied. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this relaxed and happy. He was glowing, and didn’t say a word. I wanted to ask him that if he was able to do anything to help from where he was, if he would please help, but I didn’t get that chance. Suddenly I was somewhere else.

The dream was now a lot less lucid. Somehow I thought I had woken up, and thought dad had teleported me somewhere. I now was in Amersfoort, in the neighbourhood behind our old house. I had a bike with me, and stood near where the pond is. The bike I had with me was an old rusty one. My brother was there too, also with an old rusty bike. I put the bike away and walked into the alley that leads behind the houses there, and followed it. As if this was now a computer game I was able to pick a weapon, of which a few types of pistols. The swipe menu was just overlaid on my vision, as if reality was augmented for me. I hovered over the different pistols, almost picking a black Glock, but eventually landed on a toy gun. The toy gun had a large magazine so I was able to fire a whole lot of shots with it.

Still following the alley, I found a beautiful garden at the very end. It looked really well maintained, almost like some elven stronghold from ‘the Lord of the Rings’ movies. It was completely overshadowed by the foliage of the trees that stood there. I took it in, and then walked back to the bike. My brother and I started biking. A dude exited one of the yards on a bike just in front of us. Music sounded from his backpack. I think he had some kind of Bluetooth speaker in there. The music was loud and obnoxious. He drifted left to right. Passing him was impossible as he matched our movements. Eventually he took a right turn.

My brother looked back at me, and I signalled him to take the next turn. The layout of the city does not match reality at this point, but we ended up near the street of where our childhood house is. I told my brother: “Dude, this dream I had about dad, I really need to tell this to mom. Come, let’s go there right now.” He replied jokingly: “You want to see mom? You? I cannot believe my ears.” I smiled back at him: “Belief it.” But he got a little more serious now and told me he’d rather not go. I told him I would go any way, whether he would come with me or not. He replied: “I think it is still too early for the two of you to meet again.” “Well, there’s only one way to find out, right?” I replied. He agreed, though maybe a little reluctantly.

We biked along, but somehow didn’t manage to get anywhere near the house, no matter what street we took. I recall ending near the hollow bridge, and meeting our sister, and telling her in detail about the dream I had about dad. I think she accompanied us to the house, but still no matter how hard we tried we would never end up near the house. Every time we got somewhere close, the next street would bring us further away than we were before. And that just continued until I woke up.

 

Aftermath:

When I woke up, my cheeks and pillow were wet and sticky from all the tears. I must’ve been crying in this reality too when I hugged my dad. My wife was already downstairs when I woke up. Maybe even already at work. And instantly I recognised a few messages that were in this experience. After typing out the dream, I discovered a few more, but there is probably loads I haven’t discovered/understood yet. Besides the amazing experience of hugging my dad who’s been dead almost half a year now, this whole dream experience was filled with so many cryptic events, and weirdly specific details, thoughts, and emotions.

And this experience actually started many hours before the dream, when I was going to bed and had the feeling as if dad was there with me, like he had walked into the room. That feeling only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was there. And I just went with it and said: “Hey old man. I haven’t forgotten you yet (referring to my promise to him when I came to say goodbye). And I don’t want to… Hey, dad, it’s not going to well on Earth right now. If there is anything you can do for us, could you please help us? …I miss you, you know.” I dreamt the dream in the morning, many hours later, but when the dream became lucid I immediately understood this was the result of that request. I thought this was his way of answering.

 

Analysis:

The creek stands for the world. It isn’t doing well. It dried up. Good people are stuck, in some kind of slumber. Some are already dead.

White doves and rats. Maybe well meaning people and bad people? In the dream I made no distinction. I freed whoever I could. I also felt pity for the rats. They remain animals all the same.

Freeing them I think symbolises what I am doing in real life, which I see as my mission. I design, print, and spread motivational stickers, basically making a meme of world events as I see them. But also am I trying to convince people in my circle that something is wrong about what is happening in the world. I also support the people in the many chat groups that are feeling alone and desperate, and I remove ill meaning people from the chats.

The creek was dry, but it would eventually flow again in the dream. The bodies that were in the mud had to be removed as to not poison the water of the new stream. I think this might symbolise society will restart, and that what is rotten now should not be given a chance to poison the new world again. The old must be removed and buried with due respect.

Dad was working a job. He helped me get a tool I needed for my job. Judging from his facial expression when I truly saw him, he was working on something really difficult. And I think that was the answer to my question, which I had asked out loud in real life, but not even in the other reality. He’s already working on it. He’s doing what he can, and with the tools he knows how to use. He’s possibly helping me too, behind the scenes. Maybe that’s what I had felt the evening before, when I was getting ready to go to bed. In the dream, he didn’t speak much to me, but just looked very happy and satisfied. I want to say he looked proud, but… oh well. I think he didn’t answer as he did not have to say anything, cause he’s already doing what he can, and I am already doing what I can, and even though I said I did not know whether or not I could do it, I think he knows already what I don’t, and judging from how happy he was, I think I will discover in time I will do just fine. And I’d like to think he is proud of me for who I’ve become in picking up the task I took upon me, writing all this work.

A few weeks ago, I called my mom. She’s awake to the extend that she knows something is not right with the motivations of our leaders. It was a deep conversation, and she had to cry often. She is, as me, afraid. But she is not solid at the moment. She is much less grounded than I am. Even though I have my fears, I know I can count on my strong will. But after my exchange with dad in the lucid dream, I think dad sent me to that other dream reality. I ran into my brother, who said it was too early to go to her, and later when we ran into our sister we couldn’t get to our mother. Maybe I have to wait before I visit her, to make sure it is what I want. Or maybe it means that no matter what me and my siblings do, we cannot reach her at this moment.

As a weapon I choose a toy gun. It was able to shoot though. Maybe this symbolises the stickers that I design? Stickers are found in toy stores too, but with mine I can actually defend my position. They are powerful weapons.

I don’t know who that annoying guy on the bike was. Maybe a warning not to engage with idiots, who are just wasting my time?

Same with the elven garden. What was that about? I do not know. Maybe that paradise is not far from home? Or there will always be islands of serene beauty no matter how the world changes?

Why were my brother and I on rusty old bikes? I don’t know. Seems like an important detail. I haven’t figured it out.

My brother was in this last phase of the dream. It made me realise I miss him. He wanted to go with me to mom, but reluctantly so. I saw good and bad aspects of our relation in the interactions I had with him in this dream. I was rather commanding, which symbolises just that. He listened to me, even though he didn’t think my plan was wise. This most definitely was something that happened in real life sometimes. But we also had fun in the dream. I didn’t detail it and it has evaded my memory, but I recall we were joking around like we always did. And even though I disregarded his warning, I did feel its weight cause I do hold his opinion in high regard. His opinion matters to me, though my actions did not reflect that.

This is one of those dreams I would have loved to get his input on. Maybe in the future he will read it and find his own meaning in this experience.

Date: 04-03-2021

Introduction:

This dream needs a short introduction. When I was in my teen and tween years, I would play the video game ‘Command & Conquer Renegade’ a lot. During my tweens that was a lot a lot. I played so much Renegade, especially online. With a group of friends we even had our own website and game servers. And we played it a lot. We played it multiplay on our own publicly accessible servers. Did I mention we played it a lot? I played it so much that I still to this day (writing this introduction on January 23rd 2024) have flashbacks to things that happened in the game. Highlights, or heroic moments, or moments where strategic planning paid off, or utterly failed. I still have that. That could be seen as funny, interesting, or even worrying, but it is however what it is. And because this game has taken such a prevalent place in what is the better part of my tween years, I also occasionally dream about being in that reality. And this dream was exactly that, though it was different. It wasn’t a game this time.

Renegade Heaven:

This dream took place in the multiplayer map ‘C&C_Walls’ of the game ‘Command & Conquer Renegade’. It is a map that has its scenery in the canyon of a desert landscape. There are two military bases on each side of the map. In between the two bases is a very large and high mesa, with sniper nests and corridors inside the structure of the mesa. Both bases are walled off, and have two entrances. One main entrance for infantry and vehicles, and another “hidden” tunnel underneath. One base belongs to the good guys; The Global Defence Initiative (GDI, golden colour). The other base are the bad guys; The Brotherhood of Nod (Nod, red colour).

When this dream started I was in the GDI base. But it seemed to start shortly before the moment of an enormous explosion, or that’s the part of the dream from which I remember it. Before that I was briefly involved with trying to purchase an Orca aircraft to fly to the enemy, but when I was in front of the weapons factory, something exploded right where I was walking. I wasn’t hurt and neither in any pain, but due to the upwards blast of the explosion I was catapulted into the air, and was now approaching the enemy base fast on a ballistic trajectory. The distances between the two bases was much larger in this dream than would be the case in the game. In fact; the whole map was a lot bigger. But it meant that travelling this way to the enemy base took perhaps something like half a minute.

I looked back and my base was getting ever smaller and smaller the further I got from it, and it looked to be engulfed by the enormous fireball of the explosion that had caused me to get airborne. I looked ahead, and saw I was descending towards the enemy base. It looked like I was going to splatter against their defence wall. It was a scary moment, even though it was only brief. I didn’t think of the people I would leave behind, nor did I have any nostalgic thoughts about my life. Neither any regrets, either, so that was alright I guess. But really, all I could wonder about was what it would be like to be dead. I was worried it wouldn’t be what I hoped it to be, and also afraid that dying would hurt.

But I still had so much speed I overshot the wall, and about 10 meters over the wall I suddenly came to a gentle stop while still in mid air, a few meters off the ground. It was as if I had landed on a giant invisible air cushion, or like I was a piece of metal which was captured in a strong magnetic field. And now I was slowly lowered to the ground, and felt that whatever had taken a hold of me released me the second my feet stood firmly on the ground and I had my balance. I now saw myself from third person view – which was my preferred way of playing the game.

I could see my uniform had the golden colours of the GDI, but the base I had landed in too sported the golden colours and GDI logo on its structures. I was totally confused now, cause I came from a GDI base. This was supposed to be the enemy. But I didn’t belong here, it was obvious. The buildings were different, much more advanced. Really high tech. It were the same kind of buildings as in the other base, but the ones you’d expect to see in the game after 100 years had past. It was so futuristic. And my heart was racing in my chest, still a bit shocked by how I got here and what I found.

Then I heard soldiers marching, and the sound of their boots in unison was getting closer to my location. I ran away and fled into their weapons factory, the hind door, where I knew a place to hide, and stood there, waiting. The weapons I carried were of the old tech from my base, not whatever fancy weaponry these guys would have. But then a voice spoke to me. It was a clear voice, and very friendly. It said: “You do not have to be afraid. We will protect you. You do not understand this yet, but you belong here. This is where you came from. You are welcome to stay here if you want.” Though translated to English, this was almost exactly what was said. I wasn’t 100% sure about the first and last line, but the overall meaning was this.

These weren’t words spoken to me, but more like thoughts given to me, if that makes sense. And when the voice spoke, I knew that whoever said it was also the one who had caught me in that energy field upon falling into the base. With the words given to me, I felt relieved and walked around the base. The base where I came from did not have all this fancy technology. The more I saw the more I started to remember: “Yes, indeed, this is where I’m from.” Like the memories came back to me or something. But I had all these archaic equipment on me, old weapons and other old tech. Even my outfit (I was an engineer) was visibly outdated to what the other soldiers in this base were wearing.

The base was on active alert, and there was a lot of activity. Armed men, running from one side to the other, carrying equipment, tanks and armoured vehicles drove from right to left. They were clearly preparing for a battle. I came to realise that whatever caused the explosion in that other base had not come from this base, as they were still getting ready for their assault. The explosion must’ve been triggered by someone inside the other base. What were their motives? And if this base I was in right now represented the good guys, were the other the bad guys? Had I been deceived, or was there a third party involved?

Whatever the case was, I was sure that with all this fancy equipment this military knew who the real enemy was, and I wanted to help them with the coming battle any way I could. But I wasn’t sure whether my gear would make any difference in the coming battle. Both my gear but also my skills were inferior to my fellow soldiers in this army. But of the many things I carried, one was a traditional ‘repair gun’ which in the game would shoot a 3 feet long beam, that would repair the health of buildings, vehicles, and infantry alike.

I would be able to bring up the life energy of injured soldiers, and repair damaged tanks and other vehicles. It also would allow me to repair damaged base structures. This had to be at least slightly helpful. Whatever difference I could make, I wanted to make it. I then spotted a large tank about to exit the gate at the defence walls, clearly on its way to the front-line. I ran towards it and decided to remain behind this bulky piece of armour, so I would be protected by its armour while being able to keep repairing it with my ‘repair gun’. As I went into battle, I woke up.

 

Analysis:

I think this dream was an emulation of what is going on in heaven at this moment. I have little doubt that the entity that caught me and spoke to me was God. Maybe the whole event was a rehearsal for my death. Though actually, I was about to die, but didn’t through intervention. Though that intervention led to me to choose to pick up arms and go to battle with this army, so maybe this whole saga was needed for me to be able to get a peek of what is happening up there right now. This dream did alleviate some of my fears involving my death. I wasn’t really aware I had these fears, as I do not fear being dead, but apparently I do have some fears about dying itself. And I think this dream showed me I do not have to fear it. I’ll be caught.

Something that I think the dream showed me was that I thought I was involved with the good guys, but it turned out it was much more complicated. Maybe everyone thinks they’re the good guys? But the colours I wore were those of the good guys; I wasn’t seen as the enemy in that fancy base. I chose to make myself useful, and go to battle with this army. Although at first I was worried I would not have anything of value to offer this army, it turned out that to be able to heal others was actually very valuable for the coming battle.

The base from where I started was blown up by an explosion, that seemed to have been caused by someone inside that base itself. Maybe this symbolises the “COVID-19 pandemic”? It was the trigger for the heavenly army to mobilise. Or perhaps that the truth movement – although largely consisting out of people who want to do good – are infiltrated by the enemy for the purpose of self-sabotage? That makes a whole lot of sense actually. There is so much drama in these groups. Drama totally doesn’t fit this public.

I worry if maybe I am not going to survive whatever is going to happen in the world here on Earth, but perhaps this dream showed me I would intend to come back spiritually and finish what I started.

It was a pleasant dream, even though the ending brought with it a heavy tone and feel. It showed me that heaven is well equipped for the coming war. They have everything they need to win this war, but it also showed me that they do have to make an effort in that battle. We haven’t won it yet.

Date: 03-03-2021

Introduction:

I only remember fragments of this dream. It was a long dream, and so many things happened, but because it wasn’t the last dream I had, and when I woke up I really had to go to the bathroom, and because of all the things I had to do and the other dreams that came after, this one had almost slipped my mind. I do remember a few things. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and that too added to me subconsciously not wanting to cling to the memory of the dream. I got the impression that subconsciously I had been bombarded with many dreadful dreams last night, and I think my mind just wanted some peace. Looking back I am a little sad, because I am sure there were some very important messages in this dream. What’s below is what I recall.

Fake Storms:

This took place during the evening. It was dark outside, throughout the whole dream. The locations varied, but in the dream all those locations were the same, or bordered each other so that movement between them on foot was possible. The many locations included my parents’ house, the old ‘Free Record Shop’ in the city centre, and the passage (a little obscure alleyway with tiny shops in Amersfoort).

The location of the ‘Free Record Shop’ frequents my dreams. Never as the actual store, but the space itself; a narrow shop that extends quite far into the back of the building. I am unsure how this space was utilized in this dream. I didn’t live there now, as I sometimes do in other dreams. But it was a bit crowded with people in the dream, most of who I knew in the dream. I have no idea who they are in my waking life though. I do recall I intended to buy me some new Bluetooth loudspeakers, and was setting out to find a place to get them.

I recall seeing a homeless man outside. He was sitting between a pile of garbage bags. He started talking to me. Something about the lockdowns, and how he thought it was all bullshit. I conversed with him for a bit, told him some of my findings and wisdoms. Maybe I gave him some money, but maybe not. I do recall not wanting to give him too much because I would then not have enough to buy those Bluetooth speakers I wanted to purchase. I moved on.

I entered the passage. There was a tiny electronics shop located somewhere inside. I arrived in front of that shop, which was closed. The door and shop window were all made of large glass panes, so I could see the entire inventory of the shop. I saw speakers, but I couldn’t tell whether these were the kinds I was looking for, nor their price. The door was locked. I peered through the window to see if I could see an employee in the badly lit space, and discovered there was a person on the floor hiding under all kinds of stuff, mostly newspapers. They were sleeping. I couldn’t see their face as it was covered by newspapers.

I didn’t want to wake them, and decided I would just come back another time, but in some stupid move I made my metal wristband hit the glass door, and it bounced off it exactly three times. This sounded exactly like it would if someone were to tap on the window with a key or something in order to wake that person up. And indeed they did. There was movement under the newspapers. I decided it was better to just wait there and pretend to have deliberately tapped on the window than to walk away or stay and explain what had actually happened. Again, it really didn’t sound like an accident.

While they were moving, I asked: “Are you opening today?” But to my horror this person had blue skin, and an enlarged deformed head. He looked like some kind of hybrid between an alien and human. He remained in a laying down position, and only raised his head. He smiled at me which revealed rows of razor sharp teeth, and with a sneaky laugh he replied: “Hehe, noooooope.” He turned over to his side, facing away from me, and pulled some more newspapers over his face again. I then noticed there was a pane of glass missing in the far left side of the shop window. I would be able to fit through easily.

But I didn’t dare. Besides, I was not in the habit of stealing things, and to take something and put down money on the counter was a bit too strange for my taste. Not to mention there was a blue alien-man with sharp teeth sleeping on the floor. I walked back to the location of the ‘Free Record Shop’ and when I entered it I was now in the kitchen of my parents’ house. It was still dark outside, probably midnight. Everyone in the house was sleeping. Then through the backdoor window I saw flashes of light, and the sound of thunder. A thunderstorm! That’s a spectacle I love to watch. I walked towards the backdoor to behold the lightning strikes.

It was showering hard. Rain poured down in the highest possible quantities. And there was a lot of flashes of lightning. I saw a barrage of at least 10 lightning strikes hit the garage of the neighbours in short succession. But I noticed something truly strange. Something weird was going on. The sound was as you’d expect from a violent thunderstorm, and the flashes and lightning strikes too were on par with such a violent thunderstorm. But audibly and visually it didn’t match. If lightning was to strike so near me, the sound should’ve instantly be heard. It didn’t. And not just that; I didn’t hear 10 or so strikes in succession. The flashes also didn’t match the lightning strikes.

It was very strange indeed. It seemed almost like this thunderstorm wasn’t real, and that whoever had been tasked to fake it only had a rudimentary understanding of how a thunderstorm actually works. It was as if we heard a tape recording of an actual violent thunderstorm, while being shown a video also of an actual violent thunderstorm, but the soundtrack and video were not of the same storm, so the events seen didn’t match the events heard. It was like those who faked the storm didn’t know the relation between the flashes of light, the lightning bolts, and the sound of thunder, which during an actual thunderstorm would confuse me when I was a child, until it was explained to me. The sound of the violent thunderstorm was terrifying, and so was what was seen, but because of the clear mismatch I found it scary on a whole other level. Who could fake a thunderstorm?

The visual lightning strikes kept repeating in high frequency, and barrage after barrage struck the many garages bordering my parents’ yard. I wanted to warn my parents. In this dream my dad was still alive. He and mom were sleeping in their old bedroom (which now is the computer room). I walked back into the kitchen. There I ran into my sister. I talked with her. She too had noticed there was something off about this thunderstorm. “Weird, right? Something is off!” She said to me. But she wasn’t able to articulate it as well as I could, because she didn’t really understand thunderstorms that well, but her intuition was spot on. She had sensed it quite well that something didn’t add up.

Through the curtains the frequency of the flashes kept increasing, but no thunders sounded. I decided to go upstairs to my old attic room to view the storm from a wider perspective. Maybe I was better to determine where lighting was striking elsewhere and if that corresponded with the thunders we sometimes heard. But on my way there I first stopped at my parents’ bedroom, in order to pass them a word of warning. But both of them were half asleep. I couldn’t get through to them. Whatever I said didn’t stick. Their responses were barely audible muttering about how they wanted to sleep. The seriousness of my warning escaped them both. I gave up and continued to move towards the attic.

I passed my sister’s old room. The door was opened. The room was dark, but all the way in the back I saw a faint light. Her loft bed was gone, and where there used to be a sitting area under the loft there was now a big desk, stretching from the left to the right of the room. Behind this desk was my brother, M. He sat behind the desk, so facing away from me. I only saw his back. His head rested on the desktop. He didn’t look too well, like he was deeply unhappy. As if I was slightly telepathic, I was able to get a faint taste of his emotions. I also detected furious anger residing in him. I felt bad for him, but because of this rage I detected I thought it was best I did not disturb him.

Silently I sneaked up the stairs towards the attic. I entered my old room which looked much like how I had left it when I moved out. There I stood in front of the wide window and I concluded within seconds the same thing I had concluded downstairs, the same thing my sister too concluded; something was not right. This thunderstorm didn’t match the real thing. It was without a doubt a thunderstorm, and it undeniably was doing a lot of damage just like a real thunderstorm, but it wasn’t a real thunderstorm at all. And that’s all I remember from this dream.

 

Analysis:

I think this thunderstorm is synonymous for the COVID-19 crisis. It’s really terrible what’s going on, and the damage that is being dealt is real, but what ever is going on is not what it seems. It is made to look like something which it is not, and the damage it deals is what you’d expect from the real thing. But it is all staged and only those who keenly observe will notice.

There was also a personal message in this dream. My brother was in our sisters’ old room. Maybe this means that he now occupies the place our sister had in the family household or that his situation is now similar to hers back then. My sister used to visit our parents often, but since the death of our father things changed a bit. Maybe M is now stuck in the same ‘fish trap’ of unhappiness in which our sister had been stuck for most of her live.

Date: 02-03-2021 

Last night I dreamt I was in some kind of Star Trek reality, with a few species from that fictive universe. I do not recall where this story picked up, but I recall I was with my dad at some point. We were on the streets. I had something with me, which was packaged in a carton box or something. The moment I opened the box, the thing inside started beeping. I immediately understood what this thing was, what its purpose was, why it started beeping now, and what that had set in motion. I realised it all the second I saw the thing and heard the beeping sound. I picked the thing up from the package immediately, and when I did it emitted a red light that flickered on and off rapidly. This thing looked like a red crystal, or jewel, sharp edges, polished surfaces, elongated in shape, and it was attached to a small circuit board, like you find in computer parts. The beeping and flickering were in sync.

The things I had realised were that ‘the enemy’ was looking for this thing. They needed it as part of some kind of super drone they were constructing. This thing was the one thing missing from an otherwise completed drone. Were the enemy to get their hands on this thing and put it into that super drone, that drone would become operational. That was something we had to prevent at all cost, as the drone was created to kill people. It was in fact so dangerous that were it to become operational it might become unstoppable. In the dream I had a mental image of how that drone looked like. It was army green, and looked like a flipped over speedboat with all kinds of tech sticking out of the bottom, like weapons, engines, exhausts, etc.

As the thing had started beeping the enemy knew the thing was found and even where it was, though with a small degree of uncertainty. It was also known to me somehow that at that exact moment the enemy had sent 4 drones –  two of one kind, and two of another kind – out to our location to retrieve it. I possessed a tricorder (a device from the Star Trek universe). When my dad saw the thing he had advised to create a ‘dampening field’ with the tricorder, which would shield off the signal this crystal was emitting. I apparently understood how to rig my tricorder to do that. I had to flip a few switches on the back of the tricorder, much like the ‘silence mode switch’ on an iPhone. Many different switches like that had to be set and switched in a particular order for the tricorder to be generating the dampening field.

Mind you, we are now still in the first minute or two of the dream. It was a bit of a hassle but I succeeded and the crystal stopped beeping and flickering. Now a Romulan (one of the species in Star Trek) approached us. He was a general. I had noticed him before he could see anything, and in a moment of quick improvised thinking I had put the tricorder and crystal in the nearest mailbox, to hide it. The Romulan had not seen this. He was part of the enemy. But I think he suspected something was going on, and he had stopped to ask us if we had seen anything suspicious. My dad played a fantastic nonchalant version of himself and it worked. The general was convinced that whatever was going on, we had nothing to do with it. We walked away. The situation was so that we couldn’t just stay there and maintain our innocence.

But I was really worried leaving the crystal behind in that mailbox. I was worried the general would look for it and find the crystal for their drone. We walked a good distance as to make sure we didn’t look suspicious again if we suddenly stopped walking should the general still keep his eyes on us. At one point we went behind some bushes and hid there. We found more of our side (the good guys) and we planned what our best next move was. Retrieving the crystal and keeping it with me would be unwise. I did not have the means to protect it against the Romulan Star Empire. If they found out I had it, it was a matter of time before it would fall into their hands. It was of the utmost importance we prevented that.

We brainstormed what would be the best approach now. The Cardassians (another species from Star Trek) possessed a considerable military force. My dad suggested we’d bring the crystal to them. I was firmly against this. The Cardassians were known for their corrupt nature. We had to bring the crystal to a species we were sure would not use the crystal to forge their own super weapon. I suggested to bring the crystal to the Vulcans (yes, another species from Star Trek, mostly enlightened and benevolent). But their military capabilities were unknown. Perhaps even non-existent.

But then I recalled an episode from the series ‘Enterprise’ with Captain Archer. In this dream the series was not fictive but a documentary series about Earth. In that documentary episode the Vulcans were shown to have an entire fleet of heavily armed vessels. We had to bring the crystal to them, for sure. They would still have their fleet, but were just secretive about their military as they were not the kind of species to show off military might. A quite convoluted plan was designed to retrieve the crystal, and we also performed it, but I am so sad to say the details of it have completely escaped me. There was something about the 4 drones and how we used the crystal to defeat them, and we eventually succeeded.

I truly regret not having written down this dream any time sooner. I dreamt this on a Tuesday, and only found time to type it out in the weekend, because other dreams I had needed to be typed out too. It was put on queue, and once I finally found the time I forgot so much of it. There was also a scene where one of my house mates (a young but tough girl, I called Furby) fought along side me. She was a true warrior in the dream. She aided us in retrieving the crystal and it was a race against the clock to bring the crystal to the Vulcans because the tricorder’s battery was almost depleted. With the help of the Vulcans the crystal was destroyed.

 

Analysis:

This dream contained many parallels with ‘the Lord of the Rings’ story by Tolkien. The crystal obviously being an allegory for the one ring. Interestingly enough, in ‘the Lord of the Rings’ the Elves were a sort of pure and serene race. A heavenly race, one could say. The Orcs are servants of evil in that universe, and their origin was found in corrupted Elves. In Star Trek, the Vulcans are the benevolent species. The Romulans, are depicted most often as the malevolent species. The Vulcans and Romulans share a common ancestor. In Star Trek, the Vulcans and Romulans have pointy ears. In the film adaptation of ‘the Lord of the Rings’ the Elves and Orcs both have pointy ears too.

I wonder what the relation of this dream is to our reality. I am sure we are fighting against a mighty evil force. What is the allegory for the crystal from the dream in this reality? What should the evil we face not get their hands on? And who are the Vulcans who aid us? Who the Romulans are, I think I know. Specifically I can guess, but in general they are those who serve the evil in this world.

Date: 01-03-2021 

Last night I had dark and sinister dreams. I only remember this one well, as it was the longest.

It was daytime. D and I were in a newly built residential area, with green patches of grass on small hills like in the television show ‘the Teletubbies’, new shiny houses, all straight lines. It was so perfect that it was sterile. It didn’t have any soul. We were taking a stroll. We had been visiting friends there that had bought a house in this area, but while at the house warming party we both felt a bit uneasy and had decided to go outside for some air and check the neighbourhood. While we were walking and talking we noticed that occasionally helicopters would fly over. And I wasn’t sure if I was just being paranoid or if they were actually keeping tabs on us. They flew directly overhead each time, even though we were on the move. Was it a coincidence?

We ran into other people. I believe D knew them. I didn’t. They joined us in our walk, and they also had noticed the helicopters too, wondering too whether they were being watched. As part of a joke we would sometimes hide in the bushes whenever we heard another chopper approach us. We were in a happy mood and it all seemed like innocent fun. We came across a mini supermarket, and D and I entered it. In the freezers they had bags filled with ice cream. Really big! Like maybe 10 litres of ice cream each, pushed inside carton tubes. On the side of the tube it showed a picture of delicious ice cream, and it made me crave for it. I wanted to buy one, but D didn’t think it was a good idea, saying: “You can never eat all that ice cream all by yourself.” But then I suggested we took it to that house warming party and share it with everyone there, as we were still expected to return. She actually liked that idea.

This situation in the supermarket took only a small amount of time. We were in and out in no time, now carrying a huge bag of ice cream. We went back to the house of our friends, but while we progressed we now saw different types of helicopters. There were army green helicopters and red helicopters, behaving similarly to the ones before, but slightly more aggressive. If one would not fly in the right alignment to our direction of movement, it would course correct, and bank so that the side windows on one side would face us. What we thought was a bit paranoid at first now turned out to be true; these choppers were watching us! And when a chopper banked to one side it was as if they were watching us from the windows, and perhaps even pointed guns at us. It became really creepy. We were scared.

But then we ran into other people that were at the party of our friends. My brother and his girlfriend Y were also in this group of people. It was a happy but yet also awkward reintroduction because my brother didn’t want to talk to me any more. We seemed to have forgotten about the helicopters for a moment. We showed them the bag of ice cream and explained our plan to up the vibe on that dull party with some ice cream. This group was on its way to the party, they hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone, including my brother, responded quite enthusiastic to my proposal to go there together and enjoy an icy treat.

We joined them. While we were walking one of the group members asked me which flavour we got. I didn’t even know! D opened the bag while I held it. “It’s… chocolate…” she said, looking up at me with a deliberate frowny face. I’m allergic to chocolate, meaning I couldn’t even eat it. “We could still go back, pick a different flavour, you know.” Diane said. “Good idea! Yeah, let’s do that.” I said. M wanted to come with. I liked it, but also not. I was afraid it would turn into a conflict. I didn’t want that. But there was something about his demeanour. He seemed a little nervous, and it was as if he offered to come along like he wanted to talk to me in private or something.

D and Y hadn’t noticed this slightly uncomfortable situation between me and M, and thought it was already decided on, and they (D & Y) joined the rest of the group which went on towards the party. D gave me a big kiss, and said: “Have fun!” So I walked together with M back towards the supermarket. Meanwhile the choppers seemed to have returned. This time, their stalker behaviour went up a few tiers. It became intensely scary. A black helicopter in particular kept closing the distance.

Because of the situation involving the choppers we didn’t really have any time to talk. I vaguely recall M had said a few things, but he had been stammering and stuttering throughout it all. I had many things to say back to him but didn’t. I kept it in because I didn’t want to have a piss contest on who could blame the most on the other. I thought to myself that he himself was the only person that should pass judgement on himself. If I do that it will especially not work. And because of the helicopters we didn’t really got any good conversation going. The noise of the engines of the helicopters prevented us ever more from having a conversation as they flew overhead ever lower. It was deafening, and truly scary.

We ran. Somehow D was now also back with us. We ran and ran and ran, but we couldn’t lose this one chopper. It was following us very closely. At one point it was so close to us, that M and D had looked up and were frozen in place because of the giant helicopter above their heads, making so much noise. But I was set to not give up. I took a hand of them both and pulled them into some bushes nearby, and kept going further in, finding places where the chopper’s view would be most obstructed. It was working. It was losing track of us, and lost us. The chopper now began to make wide circles around the area, scanning for any sight of us. It wanted to find us again.

I recall we eventually made it out of there, but it felt temporary. Whether it would take a long time or not, it was a matter of time before it would find us again.

Date: 01-12-2020 

Introduction:

Last night was a tumultuous night in the dream realm. I had a few almost lucid dream experiences, but I couldn’t truly break free out of any of them. This resulted in some kind of dream inception, where I wasn’t sure whether I was dreaming still or had woken up.

Purple Widow:

This dream started in some kind of office space. The interior and decoration had a typical corporate feel; bluish green carpet, simple chairs, cubicles. I was there with my mother. We were both seated, opposing each other. She sat with her back towards a wide office window, which stretched from the floor to the ceiling. I could see a building through the window which I think stood on the other side of the road where our building was on. It looked like we were in a city. My mother was struggling with something inside herself. She constantly seemed to make attempts to burst out in tears, but was fighting the eventual release. It was like she was trying to imagine where expressing herself this way would take her, but couldn’t follow through with it each time she got to that threshold of losing control. She seemed unable to truly let go, but she was experimenting with it, still, like something in her wished to just express her emotions.

In the office space we could sometimes hear strange voices. It was like they were talking over an intercom system, but there was no intercom. The voices were just everywhere. These voices were talking to me, every time they spoke, but they spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Though, I knew these voices were giving me instructions on what I was supposed to do there. But it truly sounded like gibberish to me, like complete nonsense. Then mom stopped what she was doing, and she tried to mimic what the voices were saying. Each time the voices spoke, she would try to articulate best she could. But just like me mimicking an Asian language, it probably sounded bad to a native speaker. It was annoying to me, as clearly she wasn’t copying the things said flawlessly, and I thought that whatever she was doing didn’t help me in trying to understand it.

To me it felt like she was trying to make it seem to me she did understand it, and tried to get agency over me through pretending she was with whoever was giving me these instructions. The more she tried it, the more she confidently made audible mistakes, and the more annoyed I got. Until I finally said something to her: “Stop it! You don’t speak that language!” But then something strange happened. There was a sudden change in the whole setting. I can’t really explain it very well, but everything seemed to change without anything changing. I just felt it. And my mom looked at me angrily and said out loud with the voice of my brother: “Dude, go to sleep!” And this woke me up! I woke up, but I was in the room I shared with my brother when we were little kids, in our parents’ house. The room looked exactly like it did back then, with our bunk beds and toys and all. It was the room as it was back then, and I was in my old bed, and my brother in his, but he was no kid. We were as we are now, grown young adults.

This didn’t alarm me. Sometimes things like this happen and I become lucid. Not this time though. I kept following the narrative of this dream, though wondered what had happened and how I got here. Apparently what I had said in my dream to mom, I had said out loud, and this had woken up my brother in this place. I knew something was off, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it as this place is intimately familiar to me. I turned and tumbled around in this bed of mine, trying to fall asleep again, but this bed was now much too small for me. The same for my brother, who is 5 inches taller than me, and thus our feet would sometimes touch as our bunk beds were connected on the foot end of the beds, oriented in a 90 degree angle to each other. Every time our feet would touch, both of us would tumble and turn, and mumbled things in annoyance, but we never spoke and just tried to get back to sleep. At one point I turned on my back and I saw one of the ceiling plates was missing above my bed.

I peered into the dark hole of where this plate was missing. This plate was missing in real life at some point because long ago I had a leaking aquarium on the attic, and water had found a way through the floor and onto the ceiling plates of this room. Though that happened long ago, it was actually when I no longer slept in the room with the bunk beds, so I never truly slept here while that plate was missing. My dad had removed the plate to estimate the damage, and because the plate had become soft and needed to be replaced. He had taken his time with that. So I peered into this dark spot, and as my eyes got used to the dark I noticed there was a spider hanging in a web above the other ceiling plates. But it was kinda big, and suddenly I noticed it had two bright yellow eyes. It startled me, and I quickly switched on the light so I could better look at it, exclaiming: “What the fuck!?” It was mostly black or dark gray, with dark purple pointy legs. It was looking at me with its yellow glowing eyes. It looked fake actually.

My brother was very annoyed I had turned on the lights, but when he saw my frightened face he had sat upright in his bed and was curious about what had scared me. The spider on its turn I think felt “detected” and had crawled out of its web, came out from its hiding place, and walked away from me upside down on the white ceiling plates. I rushed to the back of my bed, cause its size became more apparent with its dark colours on this white background. It was easily the size of a child’s hand. But as it was getting away, it seemed to grow in size. It grew and grew as it got further away from me, and before it reached the wall it had grown to the size of an adult hand, with an abdomen the size of a tennis ball. But its skin was smooth and shiny, like it was a plastic toy spider, but animated. Its strange cartoonish yellow eyes added to that experience, and now it even had grown a mouth with doglike teeth. It truly looked like a menacing plastic kids toy, which had come to life through magic or something.

The creature crawled towards the wall in between the two sets of doors of our clothing closets – which were built into the wall – while I said to my brother: “I find this creature scary as fucking hell.” M remained mute and just kept his focus on the spider, which had now reached the wall. Before it crawled on the wall it dipped its abdomen on the ceiling and attached a silk thread, like a safety cord. Now it crawled downwards. I saw a chance to go back to the front of my pillow and blow a gush of breath from the side of the spider so it would lose its grip on the wall. As it would fall I could then cut the silk thread and it would no longer be able to crawl back to us, I thought. Writing this down it makes absolutely no sense now, but in the dream this was sound thinking. But as I did, this my plan totally backfired. I blew on the animal, which in a reflex pulled all its legs inwards, and dropped itself to the floor. But in that fraction of a second as it did so, its silk safety line acted as a bungee cord, so as it almost reached the ground it bounced back upwards and landed on the far side of my bed where my pillow was.

I had rushed all the way back on the foot end of my bed again, cowering my torso and legs under the blanket, on the little wooden plateau at the end of my bed. M was there too but as the animal started walking he rushed to the other side of his bunk bed. The animal began to pace towards me over the blankets. Panic set in and I tried to kick and push the creature with my hands and feet from under the blankets to hinder its progress, but it was to no avail. It kept anticipating my every move. I cried out one last time: “I’M REALLY SCARED!” as this thing launched itself at my neck, where in a fraction of a second I felt its soft smooth abdomen come between my shoulder and cheek when I suddenly woke up in my own bed. As this had been the second time that I had woken up in this sequence of events, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was truly awake now. If I wasn’t, the dream had become lucid this time. I waited it out a while, but it seemed this was the reality I would consider the real one.

 

Analysis 17-02-2024:

I wrote this analysis years later after translating this dream to English for this journal. This was one of the more bizarre dream experiences I had. Prominently present were my brother and mother. I think this dream was about the dynamic between us. It ain’t good.

I was getting instructions in a language I do not understand. The idea of receiving instructions at all is unpleasant. An office space to me is also an unpleasant place. I don’t think those instructions were anything good. I think this depicted perhaps some system trying to influence me.

Though I couldn’t understand the language, I did somehow intuitively knew they were instructions and that these instructions were meant for me. So whether I understand the instructions or not, the force behind it still knows how to influence me.

As my mother tried to mimic the voices without understanding what was said herself either, she tried to get influence over me. It didn’t work. Perhaps this depicts that the force that was trying to influence me was working through her. Perhaps this shows that through my mother’s desire to have influence over me, she is inviting a certain evil to influence her own behaviour.

Me reacting to her the way I did perhaps illustrates how I have distanced myself again from her, as I have in the past, but that through distancing myself from her with the purpose of distancing myself from her, I am still expressing a reaction to her attempted influence, meaning the influence is still influencing my behaviour in a way. Maybe not the way it wants, but an influence nonetheless. To truly distance myself from her, I must no longer do it for the reason of wanting to distance myself from her. I need to find a way to forgive her in my heart.

My mother spoke with the voice of my brother. This is very interesting, considering recent events. Though I am not entirely sure if the date of this dream is right, as I recall telling it to my brother. I could be wrong. Perhaps I edited the dream at the date it is now listed. But considering where things are now between me and my brother I think that I heard his voice when she spoke means something. She spoke through his voice, or they both used the same voice. “Go to sleep!” Evil would like that, wouldn’t it?

I am not afraid of spiders in real life. I’ve kept and bred tarantulas and various other large arachnids. This spider in this dream might very well resemble my mother. She is now indeed a widow. I shouldn’t poke her. She is vindictive. She is prone to retaliate.

 

Date: 30-11-2020

Introduction 26-01-2024:

This dream came to me about 2 weeks after my brother started to shun me. It would predict a few future events, but those predictions came in quite a cryptical and magical format. It was a very powerful dream, and it left a deep impression on me. It also helped me cope with the sudden change in the relationship between me and my brother. At the end I will add an analysis or aftermath, but I didn’t write it at the time back in 2020, but instead when I translated it into English years later. I think I now have a much clearer understanding of the messages in this dream than I had back then.

But before I proceed to the dream itself, I think it is best I provide some more backstory. This dream is one in a series of dreams that all seem to depict what is happening to me spiritually, and where my path will eventually take me to. The volcano dream was the first in that series, the one after was about me retrieving my daughter, and after that the one where I tried and failed to exorcize the evil out of my mother. Then there is the dream where I was an Angel of death, which I never made a decent draft for, sadly. I think we can consider the dream below the next in line in that series of dreams. It is the first dream I have not shared with my brother because our contact ceased. After this dream, many more followed, and I think ‘Journey to the Source’ is another important one in that row of dreams that depicts what is happening in my family affairs in this world of ours on the spiritual plane.

But first, what happened after the cremation of my dad? I kept in contact with my mother through occasional phone calls. With my dad gone, her income had been cut. She no longer would receive as much money from the pension fund but “only” 70%, and she didn’t have a job. She complained about this a lot. Note that my dad and mom are almost 10 years apart in age, her being the younger one. She wasn’t eligible for retirement money yet when my dad died, but I am quite sure he had a lot of savings. My dad was good with money. I am confident he left her with enough to sit out the years until she would be old enough for retirement funds, and with 70% of the pension fund she should be able to make ends meet with ease. My brother and sister and I kept in contact through chat, and often times we would talk about the funeral, which we were all sure was supposed to have been a burial and not a cremation. I suspect that the fact a cremation costs about 7k where a burial costs 5 times that much, played a part in why his body was cremated and not buried. We had no say in it. It was all decided by mom when we were informed. With my brother still in China, trying to get back, and me slowly distancing myself from my mom again, my sister had the balls to confront her a few times about this cremation, and my mom’s plans for his remains. This is something I have never done, by the way.

Our mother had maintained that this was his will, and also had gone back and forth towards my sister on how she (my mom) would proceed. When backed into a corner mom would maintain that she was the main heir, which she stated meant he trusted everything to her to decide over, which she stated also included his remains. A few weeks after the cremation – which took place early September – my brother would finally set foot on Dutch soil again, and he eventually would visit our mom. He also gathered his courage to face her in the forest just like me before he went to see her, and eventually knocked on her door to pass her his condolences, and talk about things. He too would confront her with the decision to cremate dad’s remains and not bury him, and she had remained mute. She couldn’t answer him. He detailed his account with her to me, revealing his own anger about the situation. All her children agreed it wasn’t right. This cremation was a farce. In the weeks following this visit, my mother changed her story what she said was supposed to happen with his ashes. She told many conflicting things. I can’t get into everything, but this I want to share.

Perhaps also due to the implications of the volcano dream I detailed to her, but probably mostly because my sister and brother both had given her a piece of their mind about how wrong that cremation was, my mother changed the destination of the ashes. She claimed she never intended to keep them, instead saying they were supposed to end up on the grave after being in her possession for a few weeks. She herself was going to put the vase on our grandparents’ grave. Weeks went by and she changed her story into a version where she would do it eventually, which she later changed again into a version where we (the children) could do that after she dies. That later changed again in a version where both their ashes would end up on said grave. Fast forward to 3.5 years in the future and right now, as I write this, those ashes remain in her possession, and I don’t think she will ever let go of them in any way or form. I predict that she will never allow us to see her separate from him, and when her time comes she will express her desire to have her ashes mixed with his, so there will never even be a chance we can visit and pay tribute to the one without the other.

This isn’t all she’s been conjuring conflicting intentions and plans about. She performed the same mental dance concerning her plans with the house. She had given us (the children) all kinds of hints she planned to sell the house. When she first expressed her intend to sell, she had exclaimed to my sister that “everything in this house breaths our dad’s essence“. As if that is a bad thing? She would later add to it she found the house too big. She couldn’t keep it neat and clean all by herself. She needed a smaller house. I think that maybe she felt watched, because she knew what she had done with his remains was against his core wishes. My dad was born in that house, lived in it his entire life up to his last breath, and even died inside that same house. If his spirit is going to be anywhere, it would be here. You should know the house is indeed quite big, and therefore worth quite a lot of money. She (mom) had stated that dad had been adamant about her not having to get a job after his passing as to bridge the financial gab between his death and her being eligible for retirement money. I do not know if this is true. She claimed he also had said she could stay and live inside the house for the rest of her remaining life. This sounds like something dad would say. Yet, she kept pushing her intend to sell the house to everyone who’d want to hear it, citing various reasons. The latest reason she would state to us was the financial reason. She claimed she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to make ends meet. She made it sound like she didn’t have a choice.

So now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t afford to live here any more. But she couldn’t even admit this was her own idea. Instead, she named a host of people that had “advised” her to sell the house and live off the funds. But did these people really say that? The way she operated was that she would talk to other people, and illicit their opinion on the matter, and any and all that had said anything positive about the prospects of selling the house actually “had advised her to sell it”. That’s how she worked people and twisted their words. Mom tried to work my sister to agree that selling the house was her only option. My sister never budged, and didn’t give her the response my mom was fishing for. On the phone, my mother tried a few times to get me to approve to this too, but she presented it in such a way she actually “didn’t want to, but had no choice, so what would I do in her situation?” It is the reason why I eventually stopped calling and cut ties with her, again, but at the time of this dream I was still in contact with her. Mom was fishing for an ‘okay’. When she had introduced the financial card, she was just trying desperately to get our approval, so she could tell others “her children had said it was okay”. The reason I eventually cut ties again was because I didn’t want to become part of yet another one of her games. She would just never stop being like this. She would always play games.

I’ve distanced myself from it now, but back when this was all fresh and new, it angered me greatly, as this dream below clearly illustrates. Briefly I had intended to just bury things my dad gave me behind the grave of his parents, giving him his desired burial, spiritually. But my brother and sister both disliked that initiative, and I felt I could not just do something like that without at least their approval. We are after all – no matter what happens – in this together, as the dream below also illustrates very clearly. Almost two weeks before I had the dream I detail below, I dreamt I was an Angel of death, about to collect people “like our mother” or perhaps I did have to collect her (it wasn’t entirely clear in that dream) but my brother had criticised me for it, telling me that in his opinion this dream showed I harboured too much hate for her, and that it wasn’t all warranted. I took it as him criticising me for having had the dream itself, and I didn’t understand why he was critical of me for having had a dream that involved the negative feelings I had for her. I don’t choose the topics of these dreams, neither does he. I thought we both perfectly understood where these feelings came from. What I suspect happened I will keep private, but I do have some idea of what motivated him in the end, which wasn’t one single thing.

In a twist of fate the decisions we all made eventually resulted in my brother now living with our mom. I wonder what it is like for him to live there, again, with her.

This dream showed me and my family what might be on our horizon in a far away future when all of us are no longer living on Earth. So let’s dive in.

Purgatory:

This dream started at a party, somewhere at the street where my childhood house stands. It took place in the future, but I don’t know how far. I was a supernatural being now, who had come back to this place. Though for me, I think maybe hundreds of years could’ve passed since, I think the way the street looked it might’ve been 50 years into the future. From my perspective, I had lived through so many more things since the happenings on that street. The street itself didn’t change too much. It mostly meant that I knew none of the people who lived there now, as after so many years people had moved or died. In this dream my wife D did not exist. I think she had been dead a long time, and we were not spiritually together. I had come back for a specific reason, but I was fooling around at first. I wanted to check out this world as it was now. Even though I was now a supernatural being, I took the form of a human male. One of the reasons for me to come back was the allure of all the female beauty that resided on Earth.

I didn’t want anyone to know what I was, or know I had all kinds of supernatural abilities, so I tried to keep a low profile. Walking around the neighbourhood it looked like there was some kind of festival or celebration going on at the street where I grew up; every house was throwing a party. At the moving service there was a big party in one of their big garages. I entered and it soon turned out I was the only one there who didn’t know anyone else. All other people there sat in groups around tables, and people were looking at me. A lot of pretty ladies too. But they didn’t look very acceptive at me, so I decided to go visit another party. In an attempt to impress the ladies I jumped up from my seat and landed near the jacket racks all the way on the other side of the garage. It was kind of a reflex, but while I did it I though: “SHIT!” to myself as I realised no other human being would be able to perform this stunt. I did it out of habit. People were mumbling. I heard: “Show-off..!” I was lucky. They weren’t on to me. I didn’t want people to think I was a vampire or something. They thought I was just showing off. A few ladies were whispering to each other how impressive they thought that was. It boosted my ego. Though I headed out before anyone could ask any questions.

I took my coat from the rack, which was a matrix-style long trench coat, made from silver-golden wire with dark black undertones. A typical Neo coat, but also quite a posh classy gentlemen’s coat. I left and moved on to the next party that seemed interesting. I walked all the way towards the row of houses where the old house where I grew up in stood, and found an interesting party near one of the neighbouring houses. The old house of the family TB. They didn’t live there any more though, obviously. In that house now lived a friend of mine. It wasn’t anyone I think I know now, but in the dream this friend and I shared a similar friendship to the one I have in real life with a long-time friend called RT. He was also a bit elderly, and he was so happy to see me. He wore a blue coloured wool sweater, even though it was clearly summer. He was throwing one of his hippy like parties. I had to go pee, so I asked him if I could use his bathroom. “Of course! Come in!” In a house filled with partying teens and tweens I searched for his bathroom in vain. I couldn’t find it. While searching I saw a beautiful lady. I really wanted to get to know her, but I still needed to relieve myself. In his garden I found a place with a little privacy, but that chick left this party to go to the party two doors over, at my old house.

Quickly I followed her, even leaping from tree to tree like Tarzan, but I again realised this was not something humans could just do. I again got positive and negative responses. People were getting on to me. Even worse; I wore no shoes, and no pants! And my special trench coat was also not on me. I had left those items in my friends backyard when I got ready to pee. I leaped back to that house. It looked different now. The front door and kitchen were now where the living room used to be. I saw my friend at the kitchen table, and his front door was open. I walked in and I just honestly explained what had happened. He thought it was hilarious, and allowed me access to his house to retrieve my lost items. In his garden I quickly found my pants and coat. Couldn’t find my shoes there though. I put on my pants and coat, and went looking for these shoes. They were nowhere to be found, and even my friend helped look for them and couldn’t find them either. It was getting late, and I still had that pretty girl in the back of my mind. But I also really wanted to check out my old house, see how it all changed. And maybe in the process of indulging my curiosity, I could see if I had a chance with that girl. So I just took my loss and went without shoes. I went out through the back of the house, passing my friend’s neighbours, who turned out to be the people from the garden centre “Flower Dream”. The wife greeted me with a friendly and uplifting smile. They sat between sandbags and plastic tarpaulins against the sun and wind. They looked poor, but they were clearly happy.

It was now really quiet outside. All noises had stopped as the evening was nearing its end. Dusk was setting in as I walked towards the old house, but it seemed that the party had already ended there. And not just that; it looked like something had happened. There was an ambulance parked out front, and a few police cars, all with their signal lights flashing. A police ribbon cornered off the premise of the house. The last guests left the house now, and the pretty girl had already left before I got there. I did saw a friend of that girl leave, and she was equally beautiful. She was going to walk home all by herself. The host of the party – a man who looked much like a younger version of my dad (it could’ve been him, but maybe not) stood on the street in front of the house, and asked me if I wanted to walk her home. “Of course!” This would be my chance to impress one of the ladies of Earth. I’d just teleport her to where she wanted to go. I called out her name but she didn’t hear me. I wanted to catch up with her, but that meant I had to either go round the police ribbons or go under them and perhaps be stopped by the police, or perform supernatural feats while police was near me. I thought maybe I could convince the police I came from this party but had forgotten my shoes, so I crossed the closed off area, but while walking I noticed I was actually already wearing my shoes. Really weird. Maybe I had put them on and not registered it? That girl was now out of sight around the corner.

From the house now rushed two nurses with a mobile hospital bed – like a stretcher, but more fancy. On the bed laid my mother, very weak and barely conscious. An IV drip dangled above her left arm. Her eyes had sunken deep into her skull. “What happened?” I asked the nurses. They didn’t reply. Neither did any of the police officers that stood there. They weren’t allowed to tell me anything. I then asked that guy that looked like younger dad, and he said: “She had to make a decision, and it went sideways.” It was such a vague answer. I kind of knew what it was about though, but I wanted more info. I then saw that beautiful girl I was going to walk home again. She had walked back for some reason. I asked her if she knew what had happened, as the nurses were putting the bed with my mom on it into the back of the ambulance. She replied: “Some men came with the documents for the house. Had she signed them the house would have been out of her hands. When she had to sign, she suddenly collapsed.” From the house now exited 3 men in black suits, all holding in one hand a black suitcase containing the supposed “documents” of the house. It was unclear whether those documents were signed by her or not. Somehow in this dream, the documents were both signed and unsigned at the same time. These men did not look happy at all though. I thanked the girl for telling me what had happened. I now better understood the situation.

Suddenly behind me appeared my brother and sister; M and J. They too were higher beings, and they had come to this time and place for what was going to happen. I remembered this was the reason why I had come to Earth in the first place. The whole area slowly changed when they appeared. It was transforming. The sky became cloudy, with a red-greyish hue. It became grim. And all this happened with no sound. It wasn’t just quiet; it was completely muted. The police cars and officers were suddenly gone, and so was their ribbon. The girl was gone, younger not-dad was gone. Also all people that were there were gone, like they were never there. Only the ambulance still stood there, while the environment slowly kept transforming. But then that ambulance silently started moving away, also mute, until it drove out of sight. There we were, the three of us. All of us higher beings. Our gathering was a reunion of something that was ancient. Something like a historic event. This kind of gathering had not taken place on Earth for a long while. Each of us had a unique function in the world. A task. All three of us had taken a path that diverted from the others, and that had its purpose. But we all came back here specifically for this event. We formed a circle, the three of us, in front of the house still. We looked at each other, and communicated telepathically. The scene too was still completely mute. Our communication wasn’t a back and forth, but it was a shared consciousness. I remember the thoughts that we had. They were very short and to the point. “This has priority now.” was the first thought we all shared. We all agreed on this. The next thought we shared was: “Confrontation.” Again, we were all in alignment.

The world around us had changed into what I think was purgatory. It was dark and grim, red undertones everywhere, just simply an unpleasant place to be. In this dream, this was how our mother experienced her reality. The world had not really transformed into this, but the transformation was from our perspective how our spiritual journey looked like to get into her reality. This was a known fact to the three of us. And this transition was now finished. The next step was for us to teleport into the house. In the hallway we found our mom’s soul, on the ground in front of the front door, sitting with her back against the heat radiator. She looked like I’d imagine someone looked if they had been locked up in some kind of foreign 3rd world prison for years, and who’s will had been broken by abusive guards. She just sat there, motionless, on the ground, head hanging, sad looking. The house was dark. What ever gave it its beauty in the past was no longer present here. We could not communicate telepathically with mom, so we used spoken words to communicate with her, while keeping telepathic contact with each other as we attempted to converse with her. Though she had sat there with a completely desolated demeanour, she suddenly sprung up when we decided to show ourselves to her. We all realised she had initiated her pretence routine. This wasn’t her real self, but a shield she used. She “played” a happy confident version of herself, but she was all but happy and confident. All three of us knew we had to dig through her walls of bullshit before we would break through her barriers and have a real conversation with her. My sister started first: “Mom, what happened here?”

She replied completely in her play: “Yeah, those men came, and I had to sign documents to sell the house of your father, but how can I leave this all behind? I couldn’t do that, right?” The three of us formed the circle again, and plotted our next move telepathically. My brother asked the next question: “But who invited those men then?” Her play continued: “It were Gerard and Angeline, but also Peter (the accountant). They told me I should sell the house. But I cannot just sell the house, can I?” Again we formed the circle. She wasn’t showing us her real self. We had to keep digging. So we asked her the next question, she answered, we formed a circle. This went on for a while. But our mom kept beating us around the bush, going round and round and round in circles, never daring to name the issue at hand. But we pressed on and we had a slight breakthrough. I asked her: “What needs to happen for you to continue to live here?” She answered: “Well, I would need to get a job, but your dad was adamant about me not having to get a job when he died. It was his wish for me not to have to get a job. But it was also his wish for me to keep the house, so no matter what I do I can never meet his wishes.” She had almost talked herself into a corner, but she found an escape by claiming she couldn’t do as dad wanted, cause keeping one promise meant breaking the other promise.

Again, we formed a circle. We were not breaking through her barriers. M and J wanted to leave it. It wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t ready. But I didn’t want to give up yet. I took her on alone, while M and J stood there, looking slightly frightened, but also visibly curious if I could defeat this game of cat and mouse with her. A barrage of sharp questions fired from my mouth.

[Me]: “How about his wishes to be buried?”
[Mom]: “He didn’t want to be bu…”
[Me]: (interjecting her) “His whole life he has told us he wanted to be buried in the grave with his parents, visits the grave a few times a year, brushing clean the stones, planting new plants. He even puts it in his will! But now you want to tell me all three of us have misunderstood that?!”
[Mom]: “No, Willem. You’re right but he changed his mind.”
[Me]: “Oh really?!”
[Mom]: “Yeah. Really.”
[Me]: “Then where is the proof of this?”
[Mom]: “He had told me! YOU chose not to be there at the end, so that’s why he didn’t tell you.” She had managed to squeezing in another reproach to me.
[Me]: “Oh but how convenient! Right. We weren’t there. And he only told you, and nobody else. Riiiight.”
[Mom]: (visibly now realising how unbelievable her story was) “…Perhaps it’s convenient but that’s what happened.”

I was slowly breaking through her defences with every reaction. My brother and sister were still watching this unfold with much interest, looking at me after each of her answers, and with every response from me gave me a look of approval, as to confirm that, yes, that was the best follow-up question. I was good at this game of hers, until I hit my next barrier.

[Me]: “And now you suddenly decided to bring those ashes to that grave still? What’s the deal with that then? I thought that this wasn’t supposed to happen until your eventual death. Can you explain that? I thought he didn’t want his remains to go to that grave because nobody would visit, so how does that make any sense?”
[Mom]: (looked at me sad and angry) “Yeah, well, I just couldn’t keep those ashes with me any more.”
[Me]: “Just like you couldn’t continue to live in this house any more? Such nonsense. Tell me something, mom. Are you unable to live here because you’re afraid that there is a soul wondering around in this house that is angry with you, or is this about money?”
[Mom]: (back into her play) “Oh, no. I am not afraid of his soul. I have done nothing wrong. He left everything to me.”
[Me]: “Ah, right. So it is about money. Well, I am glad to know the truth. And thank you, by the way, for being honest for a change. I really appreciate your honesty in this matter.”

I replied sarcastically. And I had performed a classical logical fallacy by creating a straw-man argument. My sarcastic remark came forth from my frustration of her continued denial of the reality she had created for herself, and which she had pulled us in when we were in our old roles as her children. She was so good at manoeuvring around real questions with truth evading answers, and I just couldn’t get through. M and J were right. She is not ready to face herself. But my sarcasm had struck a nerve with her. She had let go of her game for a moment, and we could see she had let her anger subside, and was now only sad. She looked at me so sad. There was a brief moment of silence, as all three of us looked at her, and she looked back at us with a deeply saddened face. My sister and brother and I formed another circle, and communicated. We were all in agreement that all the answers she had given were not truthful but means to dodge the issue. It had all been a play from the moment she saw us, until my sarcastic remark thanking her for her honesty. This was a new phase. One we had not reached before. We were now all a little sad, and remained quiet for a while to let the new phase sink in. I broke the silence and took the initiative again.

I said: “Mom, you live in a bubble. A bubble.” With my index fingers I drew a snow globe around her, and it briefly appeared and disappeared as I had drawn it. “You see? A bubble.” Every time I said the word ‘bubble’ I drew the bubble again, and it would temporarily appear again, but each time it would take longer to vanish. “Are you seeing it? A bubble! You live in this bubble, right here. This is the bubble in which you live. Are you seeing it? In a bubble!” I kept drawing the globe and eventually it would no longer vanish, and she sat inside an actual bubble. It actually looked like a giant glass dome of a snow globe, but the dome was made of energy. It was like she had been captured, as if she was an ornament in someone’s collection.

I continued: “In this bubble your truths apply. But those truths have nothing – not even the slightest bit – to do with the truths outside of that bubble. And we (while pointing at my brother and sister, and myself) have left that bubble. We all chose to live outside of your bubble. Not because of dad, not because of you even, but because we wanted to be freed from the truths that dictated our lives in that bubble, and to live in the truths outside the bubble.” Mom started crying, lowered herself to the ground, and hung her head again. I took a short break and calmed myself down, took a knee, and calmly continued: “The person that lives inside this bubble now, I don’t know her. None of us know her. I have no idea who she is. You don’t even know her.”

But now mom sprung up and tried to hug me as now all of a sudden the energy barrier of the bubble was gone, but I quickly got up. Her sudden move actually scared me, but she got up herself and kept trying to hug me in a panicky way. I grabbed both her arms at the wrists as she kept trying to launch into me, shouting: “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry HELP ME HELP ME!” But I couldn’t. It was so terribly disheartening to see her like this, but I couldn’t let her in. I was afraid. It reminded me of what happened in the dream I had where I tried to cast out her evil side. I was afraid this was part of her shtick. Part of her games still. I kept fighting her attempts to hug me, shouting back at her: “I don’t know you! I do not know you!” My brother came in between and took her from me. It looked like he was about to give her the hug she was desperately requesting, but eventually decided not to and kept her some distance from him too, though a little closer than I had held her from me.

While he was wrestling with our hysterically crying mother, I took a breath and calmed down again. I calmly said to her: “I don’t trust you any more, mom. And I don’t know if I ever will be able to trust you again.” My brother – still wrestling with mom – shouted: “Oh come on, man. Of course you will.” He thought it was harsh of me to state what I had stated, though still not hugging her himself. But while he had said that, his struggle with mom turned into some kind of weird dance with her. She was still trying to hug him, and he was still trying to keep her away, while also trying to give her some slag. And now it looked like they were performing an elegant Waltz. Neither of them wanted to dance, but this was the result of their interaction. And my mother noticed it and smiled and laughed, though in a psychotic way. A really psychotic laugh, but it was better than what state she had been in before.

The two of them continued this strange and awkward dance together, through the hallway, through the kitchen, back through the hallway. My sister and I looked at this and then looked at each other. We both saw doubt in each other’s eyes. We recognised each other’s pain, and our mutual doubt. We were unsure whether we had actually come closer to achieving our goal, or if we had been set back. Had M discovered by accident how we could get through to her, or was this her latest and newest way to pull us into another of her drama plays? That’s when I woke up.

When I woke up I had the Dutch word “vagevuur” in my mind, but I had no idea what it meant. The first thing I did was look it up, and I found the English translation for the word, which is a word I did know: Purgatory. The description given with the word: “A place in between Heaven and hell, where souls will go who have died in friendship with God, but without being able to clear their spiritual debts. A place where tainted souls can be cleansed before gaining access to heaven.” It became the obvious title for this dream.

 

Analysis and aftermath 26-01-2024:

Though the first scenes of this dream felt unimportant, it showed me a version of myself getting back to Earth and diving into the pleasures of physical life. It’s the part of me I’ve never really explored actually. I’m no lady chaser, but I do appreciate female beauty. When I returned I was a super-being and that I think gave me the courage to explore this side of me. I think I knew why I returned to Earth, but in the dream it seemed I put it on a side track and forgot all about my task. What worried me at first was that D was not at all part of this version of me. It was as if she no longer existed. But later I came to realise it might just as well mean she has zero part to play in what the dream details. Because she isn’t part of that, I had no breaks on my behaviour in that regard, other than the breaks I myself forced when it came to exposing myself as a non-human.

My mom being brought into an ambulance, which peacefully drove into the distance, might as well be a future event that is part of her death. It was peaceful in a way, especially because it was all mute. That whole scene was mute as the environment changed, which was a really surreal experience actually. It gave the scene the right amount of weight, and it was clear where the focus of the dream was.

In the dream, it seemed she had died alone. She was surrounded by strangers, who were just performing tasks within the system. Perhaps she will eventually die at that very spot inside the house were we found her disembodied soul.

My brother and sister and I all had taken divergent paths in our (spiritual) lives. I think it means we all have different things to learn, and that means we will eventually no longer accompany each other on our paths. Our lives will diverge. But no matter however far we grow apart, I think this dream shows us we will always be spiritually linked through the path we once shared. And it also seems each of us has a part to play in the fate of our mother’s soul.

In purgatory a soul can be cleansed, but only if it wishes to do what it needs to do, which is to self-reflect. Self-reflecting for a spirit under the membrane of good and evil in the spiritual trench is effectively casting out their evil to become the good which evil mirrors. If you don’t understand this, it probably means you haven’t read the scrolls yet.

Me and my siblings moved and thought in unison at first. Everything we chose to do was agreed upon by all. But then I moved out of sync with them. Perhaps this shows me where exactly my struggle within myself differs from theirs. Perhaps it shows I have the illusion I can speed up a spiritual process through outsmarting those who are struggling with choice. I can’t. All I did was break her. I should’ve let it go.

I think my brother and sister were right when they communicated our mom wasn’t ready. I think what we were doing was trying to see if she would choose to be honest with us, allowing her to become honest with herself simultaneously. When I pressed on, the result wasn’t that. I was inpatient.

I think the spirit of our mother was stuck in that place, unable to move on until such time she would be able to confront herself. We were there to aid her in her spiritual liberation, and if she would set herself free we would be able to heal our own remaining pains from that life together.

My inpatients with her didn’t stem from strength or (over)confidence. Yes, I knew perfectly well how to play her game, and equalled her in our back and forth, and our back and forth did reveal to us a lot of things we would otherwise not know. But it revealed mostly things about myself. It revealed where my pain resided.

Even though I pressed on about how she had disgraced the remains and wishes of our dad/her husband, I was actually mad at how she had damaged us all, including dad. I wanted recognition for the pain she had caused, so I myself could heal and move on. But she could not give me that recognition as she herself didn’t recognise the pain she had caused to herself too, by dealing all the pain she dealt to all during our physical lives. She doesn’t see what I ask her to relate to me. I was asking the impossible, and it turned her mad.

We are all bound by pain. We share that pain. That was still the case in this dream, which took place in the far future. I think that when my brother and sister concluded she wasn’t ready meant we had to leave her there for another long lasting period – decades, maybe even centuries – until such time we would think she might be ready to try again.

There is love here, between us all, but there is a lack of self-love in all of us. This caused me to hasten and press on where I should’ve just let it go to try another time. As long as our self-love is not restored, we will not be able to help her ascend.

As long as she remains a tortured soul, our shared pain will always overshadow our shared love. As long as our shared love is overshadowed by our shared pain, this shared love cannot grow and develop to its full potential. We all have work to do.

There is only one person in this gathering that did not stand out in any negative way. My sister was actually quite balanced throughout the whole dream. She didn’t press on, there was no denial, she didn’t engage in some weird dance, didn’t speak for or against anyone. The only thing she did that could hint at any inner work left to do in this dream was that she allowed herself to be indulged by me, trying to break through mom’s barriers. She was the most balanced of any of the people featured in this dream, with maybe the exception of my friend in the blue wool sweater, who I think could be (one of) my guiding spirit(s) who sometimes pops up in my dreams. Any way. My sister doesn’t realise it now, but I think she will become the most balanced spirit of us all.

Our dad was completely absent from this story. I am unsure why that is. There was this younger looker-like, but either that was a looker-like or it was a version of him from before we (his children) were born. Maybe even before he met her, which would be a version of him who is innocent in all that happened. There was no obvious spiritual connection between me and that younger guy. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t recognise him as my dad. Maybe older dad wasn’t there because he had opted out of it, or maybe he himself wasn’t ready for this either, and the next phase after mom is able to be honest with herself does involve him. Or maybe he has let go of trying to heal her. Only time will tell.

My brother ended up dancing with her, but there was something really wrong with it. He took on this dance with her by accident, but it was caused by my refusal to hug our mom. Actually, if I hadn’t pressed on at all, she wouldn’t have tried to hug me like that, period. I wonder if this is a metaphor for my dream where I was an Angel of death. If I had not told him that dream, or if in the dream I had opted out of concerning myself with our mother’s judgement, maybe my brother wouldn’t have found himself defending her to me. Or maybe if I hadn’t voiced any of my grievances about her towards him, he would not have excused her behaviour to me.

This dance is perhaps a metaphor that illustrates the dynamic between the two of them now. In the dream he felt pity for her, and didn’t want her to suffer. But he also didn’t want her too close to him. My mother enjoyed this unmeant dance that came forth from their interaction, and began laughing like a psychopath. My brother couldn’t embrace her fully, but also felt too guilty to push her away. He just went with what that turned into.

He was right about one thing though. I will eventually learn to trust her again. But I think it is going to take me a very long time before I am ready for that. I am distrustful of her, and stubborn. And I think that my brother understands this better than anyone else. Cause as he might have taken her over from me, he decline to embrace her in the dream for the same reason I did. Something in him still doesn’t know which part of her is real, and which part of her is fake.

The things my mother screamed to me at the end were her only honest words. Deep down inside she is sorry. She really is. I forced her to admit it, and then declined to embrace her. It seems I am not ready for this phase myself either. My words at the end were honest too. I do not trust her, because I don’t know her. Not really anyway. I know her games intimately well, but I don’t know her. The part of me that isn’t ready for reconciliation with her is ironically the part of me where I take after her. I think I have more in common with her than I care to admit. My pain needs more time to heal too.

This dream has shown me so much of my inner struggle. It showed me I cannot force her to confront herself, not without getting my siblings caught in another complicated dynamic with our shared pains. The feelings of each of us, and all our individual wishes are all valid. But we best only proceed together on the things we can all mutually agree upon. Anything that falls outside of mutual agreement is part of our own personal struggle.

I think what this dream offered me most above everything else is a view of my future flaws. This provides me with a chance to learn from mistakes before making them. I can now focus in this life to try and recognise this flaw within me so that when the moment comes I will not make decisions based on my fear, but instead on the wisdoms that were shown to me through this dream.