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 over 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. 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 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 will 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 building, 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, I turned out to be able to heal others was actually very valuably 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 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 my subconscious 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).

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 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 woke up. 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 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 lighting 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 the one who 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 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 emitting 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 times, 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 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 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 where the 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 the 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 ever more our 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 very 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 each of them 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 fighting something inside. 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 live 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 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’ve 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 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 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 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 ever 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 live. This sounds like something dad would say. Yet, she kept pushing her intend to sell the house to everyone, 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 to have 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 to 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 we 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 toilet. “Of course! Come in!” In a house filled with partying teens and tweens I searched for his toilet 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 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, 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 case 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, too. 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 quite; 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 especially 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 down, 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 on 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. We formed another circle, and communicated. We were all in agreement that all her 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 in 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. 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 superbeing 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, especially me.

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.

Date: 27-11-2020 

I dreamt I was deep in some kind of cave system. Above me there were two more levels. I was with a small group of astral warriors. Every individual warrior had their own ability/speciality. The place inside this cave system where we were supposed to head to is where a spaceship was waiting for me. This spaceship was able to travel at 1.3 times the speed of light. It was the fastest spaceship ever built by humans. But the level below us housed aliens. They would not allow us to get to this spaceship. It wasn’t clear to me whether that ship was actually ours or whether we were stealing it. But I did know one thing; I was the only pilot. I was the only one out of our group able to fly it.

Everyone had their own role in this group of warriors, and mine was being the pilot. The leader of the group and I consulted with each other what our best route would be. One of our group had the ability to teleport, but two levels down was too much. One level would be doable, though, so he started teleporting us one by one, to one level below us. In the end he discovered he could teleport more than one person, as long as they touched him. We had to briefly wait one level down until he had us all and could teleport us to another level down, but that meant we were waiting on the level where the aliens were.

We had to keep quiet. I was one of the first ones to go down to this level. It was very grim. A weird mist hang in the tunnels, and there were supply crates everywhere. They provided me with much needed cover, cause there were aliens walking around in the tunnels. They were your typical Hollywood alien; long, slender, big head, big black eyes. We hid, and the aliens had no idea we were there. It only took a few minutes until we could teleport one more level down. There she stood. The ship was of shiny silver colour, the form of a spearhead. It had the approximate length of a delivery fan, but it was flat. And again, really shiny, like it was polished.

The others arrived within a minute. This time the group seemed to be larger than we started. I recall this group consisted of colleagues, and my brother too was now part of the warriors. I saw an exit and daylight, like the cave system was inside a mountain, and we were now down below on ground level. The caves also contained many crates. It looked like a military weapons depot. The crates were army green with white texts on them. Outside we could hear gunfire. There was a battle going on outside the caves. The many warriors opened the crates now, and armed themselves to the teeth. They formed a perimeter. Who our enemy was, was unclear, but we knew for certain “they” were our enemy.

It didn’t take long for the fighting to move away so our exit was clear. We had to do a few checks before I could fly the ship though. We went outside and we found ourselves on a street, somewhere in a city. It became clear there was some kind of meeting or seminar going to take place in that city. Something important was going to be decided in this meeting. We wanted to find out what this meeting was about, so we looked around. We came upon a poster that had been glued to one of those little electricity boxes against the wall of a house.

The poster was by some kind of organisation. I think it said EWEA or something. Not sure. Something with 4 letters, of which two were the letter E. It clearly was a propaganda poster. Something mainstream. The poster showed drawings of a few different types of aliens, all different from each other. But they actually looked something like really old and wrinkly elderly people. Humans! The drawings kind of looked like the cartoon version of the ‘Big Friendly Giant’ of the cartoon movie of the same name. Also kind of like that elderly pedo from the Family Guy cartoon, the one with that strange voice and the walkers.

The alien faces drawn all smiled seemingly very friendly. The top and bottom of the poster had text, the faces in the middle. The top text said something along the lines of “The Event Is Near”. Not sure if that is what it said exactly, but it was something that meant that. I do remember what the bottom said. It read “WE ARE YOUR FRIENDS”. I recall thinking to myself they actually looked kinda friendly. Maybe this was all okay? But I wasn’t sure. Something felt off. Something felt like it could all be very very wrong. The poster had evident high marketing value, if you get what I mean. It was too slick. Something was wrong about it.

We had to know what was going to happen, so my flight was postponed. We were going to look into this. There was a typical canal house that was obviously owned by wealthy people. Wealthy royalty of some kind. In that house the decision (what ever that was) was going to be made. We had to get in, but no way that we would be able to sneak in unnoticed. I am not sure why I thought that, and with all these warriors with all different abilities you’d think this would be possible, but in the dream we took it as a fact we would not be able to do pull this off. No idea why. But I had a specific power, which was also the power that allowed me to pilot the spacecraft. I could enter people’s mind astrally, and read their thoughts and memories, and I could tunnel those.

I placed myself astrally in front of a young boy that stood in front of the house, ready to enter. I could hear him think something like: “This is not going to go well.” I knew he was talking about the meeting. He was worried! I comforted him with my mojo, by standing head to head, touching his forehead with mine, which made some kind of connection that was one tier up to what I was already doing before this. It was like I paired with him as if we were Bluetooth devices. It was really strange, cause that’s truly how it felt. I put him at ease, but at the same time discovered that by doing this I could holographically project our entire team into the meeting room. And because this boy was going to be allowed in there legally, it also meant our holographic presence was allowed. Like that property of our projection was copied by this means of projecting through him.

Inside was a big room, with really high sealing, beautifully decorated. The room was filled with luxurious furniture, there were waiters, there was expensive food, and, of course, there were a lot of rich and royalty present. Decadence to the max. And they didn’t see us somehow, even though we were clearly there. We sat down. When the meeting almost commenced we could even interact. At that point it didn’t really seem to matter we were officially uninvited. Maybe nobody noticed, or, just as likely, nobody cared.

I was actually dressed quite well for my much inferior wealth class. The meeting started, and two big doors opened. In walked the aliens from the posters, with those wrinkled old faces. They took the stage, and started talking with the rich people. I didn’t understand the topic at all, but I did pick up that these rich people made a lot of promises to these aliens. Things would get much much better. And these aliens were actually easily convinced. It was some kind of mutual thing. You do this for us and we will do this for you. But I got a strong sense “our” side made promises they could hardly keep.

Suddenly the meeting was over. It was decided. They were going to do it, whatever it was. Everyone around me stood up, I remained seated. People started walking and talking, emptying out the room. I was looking at a crowd of legs moving in front of me, as my luxurious leather seat was quite low near the ground. But in the chaos I saw another pair of legs about 10 feet away from me, still seated. It took a while before I saw who it was, cause I would only get glimpses of this person through the crowd that was walking between us. But as that crowd was thinning out I recognised him. It was my father in law! He was dressed to the nines!

He looked at me as he would sometimes do, then looking slightly away, pondering something, smacking his mouth a few times, and he said: “Well, Willem, I don’t know what your perspective on this is…” (now looking me straight in the eyes) “…but I don’t believe any of it.” I replied: “Yeah, I actually don’t either… Something is off.” In one swift move he leaned in on me and pointed his finger at me: “Exactly! Something is off!”

The dream might have continued, or blended over into another dream, but I do not recall that.

Date: 09-10-2020

Introduction:

Last night I had three dream experiences. The first was not very interesting, but I will relate it just to be thorough.

The Cemetery:

D and I were walking over the cemetery where my grandparents have their final resting place. It was a beautiful day. Strangely enough the cemetery was now roofed off under a giant dome, and there were walls and doors as if it was an office space. It was still a forest but had elements of a forest and an office space. The layout remained mostly the same.

We had agreed to meet M and his girlfriend YL at the grave of dad, who in this dream had been buried with his parents. We wanted to meet up again as it had been some time since we did. And we also wanted to pay tribute to dad. Via D’s telephone we kept in contact with them. We were looking for each other on the cemetery, which is also quite large in real life. But we couldn’t find each other, until we just agreed to go to the grave and meet up there.

Then M and YL said they were there via app but D and I couldn’t find the grave where we expected it. We looked and looked, until finally we found it. When we did M and YL were waiting there. It was a happy reunion.

The Hand:

This dream was the most intense of the three, but the main dream was the third. This second dream experience started with a superhero themed dream, after which I had some kind of encounter with an astral being. This pulled me out of the dream, and I went from the astral plane to my bed. Here’s what happened:

In this second dream I dreamt I was part of a group of superheroes, much like ‘The Avengers’. Every individual had their own strengths and abilities, unique to themselves. I was one of those superheroes, and in that dream it was a given that I had an incredible inner strength. But among my fellow teammates I was insecure about my inner strength. At one point there was a meeting and each of us would explain and demonstrate their abilities to the others. A bit like telling an origin story, how you got your powers, what abilities you now have, and a demonstration. When it was my turn I imagined I was actually ‘The Hulk’. And as I imagined it, it would become true. So as I also imagined it I added other things to it, but as I was thinking about what to say I suddenly felt a rush of confidence, and I uttered the words: “I’m a monster. In me houses an enormous rage…” And while I said it, I felt an incredible anger build up in me.

And I actually turned into ‘The Hulk’, physically. I felt there was some kind of rage eruption developing inside of me. I was planning of just letting go to see what my powers would actually turn out to be, while also cool headedly explain to my fellow superheroes what I was demonstrating. Cause part of me was completely calm about it. But I never got that chance. A really big and strong hand came from behind, pushed me on my neck and forced me to the ground with this one motion. It instantly woke me up as soon as my face hit the ground, as in immediately. And as I had immediately woken up, the hand was still pushing on my neck. So to be clear; I was awake, but that part of the dream had followed me into the waking world. I laid on my right side, facing my wife, completely paralysed, while behind me a large hand on what must’ve been a strong arm, was pushing me on my neck into the pillow and mattress.

And it really pushed me into it deeply. I felt much tension on my neck, head and shoulder. This all must sound scary, and afterwards I must say it did freak me out a lot, but at that moment, I was strangely completely calm. I was trying to think of a way out of this situation. Physically, I was paralysed, but astrally I was also there, and I was able to liberate my right arm and hand to grasp each finger and push it away from my neck. And each finger I removed from my neck would mean that finger could not just snap back. It was no longer exserting force. But under each finger I removed was another finger. I kept pushing fingers away, but this hand seemed to have so many extra fingers under each digit. It was as if this hand was pushing me from many different dimensions.

I couldn’t break free. I then tried to break free from the paralysis. It didn’t occur to me to call for divine help, which is probably because I did not feel much fear. I felt inconvenienced, actually, and was just on alert. I’ve discovered a means to break free out of sleep paralysis, by trying to intensely focus on one detail in the room. It’s a trick my brother once taught me. If I succeed I can suddenly break free and move about again. And this worked. I popped back into this reality. For a few minutes I felt the imprint of a hand on my neck, like something had really been pushing me into my pillow. Then the freak-out followed. “What the fuck was that?!” But that feeling subsided, and I fell asleep again. I was catapulted into the third dream.

The Stuff:

I was inside my parents’ house in Amersfoort. I don’t know how I got in, the dream just started here. I do vaguely recall it was a given in the dream I had arrived together with my brother M, so he would get a chance to have a goodbye from the house. Officially he had come to visit our mom, but the real reason was for him to see the house one more time. But I can’t actually recall having had any interactions with M. Quite frankly I don’t think I’ve even seen him in the dream at all. But he was there, and I had accompanied him, so I was in the house myself too. I decided I would go to me old room in the attic, where I’ve lived the better part of my life, and where I used to have many terrariums with exotic animals.

But oh man, what I found in that room haunts me. I found out the room was still filled with terrariums, and in each glass enclosure there were skinny starving animals. They hadn’t been fed in years. I saw little crabs that had been feeding off each other’s legs, and which crawled forward with one or two remaining feet. I saw frogs, spiders, everything. Though it was a horrifying discovery, all the terrariums still somehow were teaming with life. Some animals had died, but that had invited flies to lay their eggs on the corpses, and the flies had multiplied, which had provided food for the remaining animals. All cages were open or connected to one another, by the way.

The shame I felt was unspeakable. The dream was almost real, almost lucid. But I kept buying into the verisimilitude. “How could I have left this all behind like this?” I asked for forgiveness out loud. I made plans to take all the remaining animals and enclosures to my work to be taken care off by the people working in the greenhouse. We already keep many tropical animals there, so this was the best place to go. I had to make it up to these animals by giving them the best life I could possibly give them. From different hiding places in the room now emerged many more animals. I recall seeing fat tree frogs emerging from behind a bookshelf (that actually held a terrarium), but also poison dart frogs, and lizards. But mostly frogs, actually.

I walked downstairs, and went outside through the back door, into the garage. It was strange. As I had taken this walk it was as if I saw the house through the eyes of my dad, who was a handyman, and I saw all kinds of things that weren’t finished. I felt a strange new form of compassion for him. I too struggle to finish things in my life, often. I arrived in the garage. It was a total mess there. Really bad, much worse than its usual state, which wasn’t very tidy either. Not at all. Among the junk I saw an old clothing closet of mine. I opened it and saw many different sweaters and t-shirts, all in excellent state. “Had I left all this behind? What a waste.”

Between all the junk I also saw many projects which I had started sometime ago, and never finished. There was no way for me to take all this stuff and bring it back with me. I had no space to put it. Neither did I want to, actually. I wanted to part from this part of my life. Mom came into the garage. It was a nice and slightly insecure version of her. We engaged in some small talk. She suggested I’d take the extractor hood for my kitchen. It was this really fancy thing, with many switches and buttons, and a display. Quite an advanced device for its purpose. “Dad had bought it some time ago, but he never got around to placing it.” Mom said. D was here now too, and she fancied the extractor hood.

But I felt extra rejective about taking stuff with us. I saw all those clothes and stuff, and thought to myself: “I already have enough stuff. This no longer suits me. This is part of the past. I have to leave the past here. I have to think about my future, and not take my past with me on that journey.” The animals were the only and obvious exception. I owed it to them to make this right. I told mom to just put the stuff on gregs-list, and she might even receive some money for it all. At this point mom had ushered everyone (not sure who) into the car. It was the grey station wagon. Perhaps this was M, his girlfriend, our sister, and her kids? I’m not sure. People. And they were leaving now, I think for good. It was something final. Mom rolled down her window on the driver side and said: “If you want you can visit us once in a while. I’d like that. We can share our sorrow of losing dad.” She spoke from her heart.

But I couldn’t. I just knew it. I thought to myself it was only a matter of time before she would spin her web and play her games again. I replied honestly: “I’m sorry, mom. I want to do this my own way on my own terms.” Sad she nodded her head, confirming my statement, and rolled the window back up. A little girl who could have been my oldest niece got in the car now, and while she got in she asked me: “How can you be so cold?” That shocked me a bit. She got in. The car started moving. Then I was there, in front of the house, with D. Suddenly there now also was a third person. An old friend of mine, who simultaneously also was an old nemesis of mine (like one person embodied two different people). And in the dream this guy was my best friend. He arrived on horse and carriage. And he had arrived at just the right time. This was perhaps an old way of transportation, but it would get the job done to move the many terrariums.

While this horse and carriage came towards me from the neighbours’ driveway, my mom drove off from our own driveway. My friend leaped off the carriage and hugged me. I immediately burst into tears. The whole situation with dad, saying goodbye to the house, the animals I had found and who I had given such a horrible life in my absence, the many things I had to leave behind, and concluding I don’t trust my mother, and being taken for a cold person while I had only just been honest; it all made me really sad. I wasn’t cold at all, I just don’t like pretence. This friend was now actually another friend (someone who in real life truly is one of my best friends, A). And A would help me sift through the junk in the garage to see what we could safe.

I accepted it was better not to leave everything behind, just because I deemed it “spiritually unclean”. Maybe some things would in fact come in handy and were worthy of bringing along with me on my journey into the future.

Date: 25-09-2020 

Introduction:

Last night was a complicated dream experience, that morphed into a lucid experience a few times. I was in realities in between realities, and moved up and down multiple layers. Because it was so complicated and all seemed to take place in a short time span I was unable to recollect most of it. The lucid moments were short and each time they immediately shifted me into another layer making me lose the lucid part. A few important things stand out. I think I was able to capture enough of the experience to give an impression of how hectic and random it was.

Unchangeable:

The first impression I have was of a sunset in Ermelo. I was walking on the street in front of the primary school near my grandfather’s and grandmother’s old house. Suddenly I was no longer in Ermelo but in China. The area was slightly mountainous, there was a lot of grass. It still had elements of Ermelo, though. The sun was setting and I was taking it in, when suddenly my brother appeared near me. He told me that the sun always sets twice here in China. And he was right. I saw one sun disappear behind the horizon, and when it was gone a second sun followed it. But that second sun looked fake, like it was the sun from a painting.

It didn’t radiate. It kind of looked like a school project sun made out of crepe paper. I then became lucid, and realised this was a dream. That sun looked too fake, and I realised I was not in China, but my brother was! I looked at him, and realised that he looked exactly like my dad as I had seen him in an earlier dream, when my dad looked a lot younger. M looked back at me, and we hugged each other in a long embrace. It had been the better part of a year since I had last seen him, as he had been stuck in China due to lockdowns all this time. It really felt like him, even though he was somehow a blend of him and our dad.

I also recall that the moment I saw him, I realised that M was the most like our dad, but I meant it not in appearance but in character. How he behaves, how he acts. It was something I realised on a level so deep that I had never seen this before. This moment suddenly shifted again and I found myself in the living room of my parents’ house. The whole family was there, so both my parents and both my siblings. I was no longer lucid. We were all talking, having little private one on ones with each other, like we used to have sometimes during tea. Everyone talked. Dad was talking to me, and I wasn’t really paying attention to him.

I was trying to follow a conversation between my mother and my brother. My sister also was listening in, but she didn’t add to that conversation much and was ignored by the others when she did. I could hear my mother was performing her shtick again. She was creating divisiveness between the members of the family, as she has always done. As I saw through her spiel, I thought to myself I didn’t want to get pulled into another one of her games. Meanwhile my dad had kept asking things, and I had answered him in the shortest way possible, with yes/no/maybe/don’t know kind of answers. I do not recall what he was asking though, but I was not engaging with him.

He persisted, though. Then, suddenly, my mom looked at me all annoyed and asked me: “Who are you talking to the whole time?” And again I became lucid. I realised: “Wait a second! Dad is dead. And she can’t see him, but I can, because this is a dream!” In that fraction of a second as this realisation kicked in, it gave me an adrenaline rush, which was bringing me to the waking world. I woke up, but not before looking at dad and seeing him look at me with a slight smile while saying with a calm and friendly voice: “You can’t change her. She doesn’t want to.” And then I woke up in my bed, his face fresh on my retina, his words still echoing in my ears.

 

Analysis:

The next morning I asked my brother (who was still in China at that moment) if he had perhaps dreamt anything in particular. I was hoping that maybe he had seen me in his dream. How cool would that have been!? But alas. No, he did not. Though he did relate to me that while in China he had often taken strolls along side the river and watched many sunsets during his stay in China. From what I experienced in the dream it is easy to tell how much I missed him, especially during the death of our dad. The insight he was most like our dad has stuck with me.

The end message by my dad in this dream is quite clear. Though I will address one thing. Technically you could say the thing my dad told me can be interpreted one of two ways. I cannot change her. She doesn’t want to. It can mean she doesn’t want me to change her, or it can mean she doesn’t want to change, period. I feel confident to say he meant the latter. Even in Dutch, if he had meant the prior, it would’ve made sense to say it slightly differently. He would’ve put more emphasis on the word ‘you’ than he did if so. This translates one on one to Dutch by the way. I am quite sure he meant she is just simply unwilling to change. And I think he is right.

Date: 19-09-2020

I dreamt I was in the old bedroom of my parents in their old house. The room that later became the computer room. Everything was as it was back when this was their bedroom. Our neighbour, E (from &, D knows what this means) was there too, and she was putting clothes in their closet. She was talking about dads, the topic of dads in general. I realised she probably didn’t know my dad recently passed away, so I told her. She replied as she probably would reply if this were real: “Ah no, what? Oh how awful. When did this happen?” We talked about it and she gave me a warm hug.

Suddenly the setting changed. We were now in the living room of the old house of my grandparent on my mother’s side. Now dad, mom, my sister, grandma, my aunt on my father’s side, my parents’ neighbours from directly across the street, and a whole lot of other people were there too. The female neighbour from across the streets of my parents (BdL) stood closest to me. My brother and my wife D were not there (not anywhere during the dream). BdL looked at me with concern, and asked: “Hey, Willem, are you alright?” I felt tears burning in the corners of my eyes. I replied: “Well, actually, no. Not at all.” I felt my soul cry out.

BdL seemed to be able to sense this: “Hey, buddy, come here. Tell me what’s the matter.” She embraced me. As if an inflatable swimming pool full of water tore open through the side, I emptied my sorrows: “B, this is so bad. My dad is dead, and my mom, my mom, she, she…” I was sobbing and sniffling, and my airways began to cut off. “She is so mean, B. So incredibly mean. You have no idea how mean she is, you truly don’t. But nobody believes it!” My mom stood in this crowed but this was a version of her that cared about me.

BdL took it very seriously though: “What did she do. Tell me.” I was about to tell her, but my airways got blocked, as if I was being choked out by a Jedi using the force. I couldn’t get it out of my throat. I was suffocating. I fell to the floor on my hands and knees. With all my strength I crawled towards the backdoor that led to the backyard. “Oxygen! I need oxygen!” I exclaimed with barely a voice. The scenery now melted together with my parents’ old house. They had a sliding glass door that led to the backyard, and that one was now present in this house. People opened the sliding door. I crawled outside on all fours. The yard was somehow mirrored to how it normally looks; their barn was on the other side.

I sat down with my back to the wall of the barn, gasping for air. It was sooooo hard to get air inside my lungs. I was about to die. But I was also determined to tell people the truth about my mother. The people that were inside now all gathered around me in a half circle. They remained standing. I started telling my story to this crowd, which included mom and dad. With every short sentence I got out, I needed to take a pause to get air inside my lungs, which took close to ten seconds between each line. Something was choking me. But I wasn’t going to let it deter me from saying my truth. I was determined. This had to be said. It needed to come to light. And because I could only say so little in one go, I needed to carefully choose what I said, so I was to the point.

I said: “My dad wanted to be buried in the forest!” (pause for gasping for air) “That was his lifelong wish.” (pause for gasping for air) “But my mother thinks she can take ownership of him in his death.” (pause for gasping for air) “And has cremated him against his wishes.” (pause for gasping for air) “The ashes she appropriates for herself.” (pause for gasping for air) “And that’s how she always handled him!” (pause for gasping for air) “And he (meaning my dad, who was standing there silently with a big smile on his face) couldn’t see it.” (pause for gasping for air) “She was his sweetheart.” (pause for gasping for air) “She could do no wrong in his eyes.” (pause for gasping for air)… and while I gasped for air, my aunt (dad’s sister) confirmed: “Yup! That’s completely true.” My mom even nodded, and seemed to be really concerned for me. But my dad had now suddenly disappeared, as if he was a hologram that was switched off! I think he wasn’t able to hear the next part.

Suddenly I found the strength to get back on my feet. I felt my airways clear up, and felt ever less choked. I took a deep breath, and then looked at mom. I looked her straight in the eyes and said: “Those ashes are supposed to be in the forest, not with you at home!” The expression on her face changed. She became malevolent. Though she remained forcefully calm and said: “No. This was agreed upon with your fathe…” I interjected her: “What you have done is dishonourable, dishonest, and unjust! You need to set this straight!” She became vicious, and told me that dad had left everything to her, so that included his remains and how the funeral would take place. But I would have none of it, and flew upwards towards her, left arm stretched, reaching for her throat, and pushed her to the ground, choking her out, like I have done in dreams before where I would attack a demon or possessed person, to get them to yield. I had not been unsuccessful in past dreams.

I had my left hand around her throat, and sat with my body on her stomach. She was floundering wildly. I started my exorcism, and felt the power in my gaze. I brought my face nose to nose with hers, and looked her in the eyes as intensely as I could: “Make things right. You do not have the right to do what you did. It doesn’t work that way!” She didn’t yield. I continued: “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about those ashes. This is about your soul!” Her mouth began to open wide, and her eyes started to move uncontrollably and rapidly, looking in every direction, independently of each other. “You are again on that crossroad where you have been before. Do you choose light? Or will you go back into the darkness?” Her eyes were spinning wildly in her eye sockets, as if they were about to pop out at any time, and her mouth now opened up so wide that the molars on the upper and lower jab bone would now connect so that her teeth formed a perfect O ring.

She was floundering and floundering, fighting my hold over her. I saw the pure evil in her, which was nothing but panic, which is an expression of pure fear. She was afraid. Her eyes kept speeding up, spinning wildly and erratically at an impossible speed, her mouth still widely opened, her arms and legs juggling and taking every possible angle and position possible in every second. This being did not look human. The fast movements of all these limbs and the expression on her face smudged it into an evil entity. Would I have had a camera and used it to take a picture with a long exposure time, I think it would’ve shown me what the thing that possesses her looks like. It was her purest evil form. But as she fought my hold, I felt I was losing this battle. I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t. She gained strength and was overcoming my grip.

She began to rise her torso from the ground, and I lost my hold, and slid off her. In a completely unnatural fashion she erected herself onto her legs, like she was on a plank that was being raised upwards. And then she was on her feet and regained her familiar form. She then walked towards the garden door, and stood there for a few seconds with her back to me and the crowd. Naively I hoped that maybe the evil had left her, and I got up, walked to her, and put my hand on her should: “Mom, you have to bring those ashes to the forest. This is about your soul.” But she turned around and had seemingly completely recovered from her prior state. Sporting her “keeping up appearances” smile to me I immediately saw things were bad. “No, son, I don’t have to do anything. This was his will. He agreed to this with me.” The people around us now walked to her side, and faced me, including BdL. The atmosphere changed. They turned against me, believing her.

Everyone went back inside. This was now the old house of my parents. They got towards the front room of the house, where my parents used to have a big round oakwood saloon table. That table stood there in this dream, and everyone gathered around it. My mom, my sister, the entire family from across the street. My mom had made a drink for everyone, with lime. She had attempted to make the drink as I make it, but she hadn’t done it right. She had tried to copy something in the hopes it would pass for the original thing. She had made it for everyone, except for me. I said: “Oh, so now I don’t get any thing any more?” Her witty reply: “Isn’t that what you wanted? I thought you didn’t want to be a part of this family any more? That’s what you got now, so stop complaining.” And she had a point.

I left. The dream continued at another place, but I don’t recall many details. Just that there were a lot of children. There was sand, climbing obstacles, slides, swings, and the children were playing happily. I do recall that I really had to pee in the dream, and was looking for a place to take a leak. When I woke up I had to piss like a horse.