Date: 10-06-2015

Last night I dreamt I was in the living room at my parents’ house with my brother. It was late in the evening/night. The curtains weren’t drawn, and outside in the cloudless sky we saw occasionally a light pass over really high in the sky. We stood in front of the window and looked. The lights were coming from black triangular spaceships, which were flying over from all directions. We kept looking in front of the window, trying to point them out. The flyovers became more frequent and the altitude of them also lowered.

It became a bit scary when they flew over just about twice the height of our house, using search light to evidently scan the ground. We were pretty sure it wasn’t us the were looking for, though. It was a scary sight nevertheless, like it was kind of a show of power. The search intensified, and now we also saw aliens walking in our street. We ducked behind the flowers in the window. A few times a small companion of three aliens would pass by right in front of the window, and we were quite scared.

They were tall, taller than most humans. I’d say about 7 feet. And very thin. Big heads, big black eyes. I’m going to say they had green skin, but I am not 100% sure of that. But they smiled. Genuine smiles. They looked quite friendly, actually. We were now just hiding more like children playing a game of hide while their parents were doing chores in the yard. Now we also saw old planes fly over, but they were crashing. They were white water planes, like the Catalina from the second world war. We saw them streak across the sky trailed by big black plumes of smoke. They crashed beyond the horizon with a loud bang.

In this dream I was able to fly. Perhaps it was an astral thing or perhaps this reality was an astral reality, but I could fly and went up to get a better look, and I did so by phasing right through the ceiling and the roof of the house. I wanted to know what was going on. Were these planes crashing thanks to these aliens? I had wings now, but to fly I used some kind of upwards telekinetic powers. It made a buzzing sounds, much like the sound my powers made in a previous dream. I went up to the clouds and observed. In the distance I saw another plane fly into the area. It was in working condition. I kept my eye on it.

Suddenly, out of no where, its tale blew up, and it started to descend in a crash landing, exactly like with the other planes. A plume of smoke followed it. I still was none the wiser what caused this explosion. Was this the quest of these aliens? I kept following the crashing plane until it was really tiny, after which I saw a big flash, followed by a delayed bang, while a fireball rose from the crash site. I somehow realised I knew some of the people onboard that plane, but also realised it was their time. It was weird, but I was quite at peace with my sudden loss.

Suddenly I was back in the living room with my brother. The window was now much closer to the street, as if there was no front yard. I explained to my brother I had not discovered what was going on up there, but detailed what I had seen. Now another alien appeared near the window. He was searching, just like the other aliens, but he saw us. And then he spoke to us. I do not remember the exact flow of the conversation, but I vaguely recall he wanted to know what it was we had seen. The language he used was also foreign to me and my brother, but somehow we understood it still.

The message of this alien was over all a friendly one. It meant us no harm. It explained that the things that were going on out there had nothing to do with us. But it insisted we had to stop watching now. “You’ve seen some interesting things, but it’s time to stop. You’ve seen enough.” The things that were going to happen now, we were not allowed to see. It wasn’t forceful or menacing. It wasn’t intimidative. Maybe it was about a worry of our well being? But it was unmistakable this was none negotiable. We had to close the curtains and go into the house. And we did.

We walked up the stairs. Mom and dad were probably a good few hours into their sleep. My brother was being clumsy, and that made a little too much noise for my taste. Our parents used to get mad if we awoke them in the middle of the night. My brother ignored me when I whispered my concerns about his noise level. He had to go to the toilet, and he closed the door of the toilet quite roughly, producing even more sound. The door lock was loud, he was peeing standing up and aiming audibly directly into the water, making even more sound, pushed the flush button all the way down, hard, so the entire reservoir would empty.

Door open, door close, all done in such a manner it seemed to me he wanted them to wake up. I wasn’t feeling like having to stomach another one of those confrontations with them, but it was too late. I heard noise in their bedroom. Mumbling and one of them getting out of bed. It sounded like dad was the one who was going to appear out of their room. I ninja’d up to my old room in the attic, but left the door open slightly so I could hear and see the confrontation between my dad and brother that was about to occur. And it was a bad one. My brother stood his ground well, but he got a few nasty reproaches hurled to him. He was a bad son, disrespectful, unthankful.

M told our dad he knew dad had lied about something, telling my brother he decided to take him under his wing after my brother had suffered a nervous breakdown, but it was in fact my effort that convinced my dad to not abandon my brother to his own fate. But my dad didn’t budge emotionally when my brother told him he was found out. I would’ve predicted this, as this was typical. In stead he became vicious, and his face turned demonic. He looked over his shoulder and scanned the darkness of the attic for my presence.

I was completely calm though. But I felt a discussion in the making between my dad and me where he would tell me “what really happened” but he would just be trying to convince himself through me, and I didn’t feel like having another “you’re wrong, no you’re wrong” kind of argument with him. It would be pointless. I had honestly told M what had happened, and it gave him the context of truth to our fathers’ claims. So, I shut the door when I saw my dad had seen me, and was speeding up the stairs, truly like a demonic entity, on all fours.

I locked it and he immediately started banging on the door with his fists in complete rage. “OPEN UP! I WANT TO FIGHT YOU! I WANT TO FIGHT YOU AND I WANT TO WINNNNNN!” I was still so inexplicably calm, and I just sighed. I didn’t reply. Suddenly I had this realisation: “Wait a second? I no longer live here! I have my own place!” And just like that, I opened the huge attic window, and I flew home to my new house.

Analysis:

This was one of the more weirder dreams I’ve had in a while. I have no idea what the bit with the aliens and the crashing planes was about. The part of my dad I think showed me an old dynamic that was there in that house which I desire to part with. I think this dream is a way for me to understand why I want to part with it. It’s bad for everyone.

Date: 09-06-2015 

Introduction 19-02-2024:

The dream translated below needs a short backstory. My ex girlfriend before I met my wife was a girl from a troubled family. I felt like her saviour, but only later after we broke up have I come to realise that the relation I had with her was a surrogate relation for the one I did not have with myself. I recognised her perils in mine, in an abusive house hold with a mother that took a big role in that psychological abuse, just like me. I’ve come to understand that my desire to save her came (at least partially) forth from my wish to save myself. We broke up after about 2 years of very drama rich interactions and on-off periods, where she would eventually break up with me. She would insist we stayed friends, but I couldn’t just be her friend. I wanted more. But afterwards I found out she had been cheating on me throughout the whole relationship. I found out because she used a phone I had bought her, and I knew her account password, allowing me to copy the phone from a cloud backup into one of my own devices. What I found wasn’t pretty.

I’d like to think that the reason she broke up with me was because she couldn’t bare the lies any more, but it could be wishful thinking. She was a copy of her own mother. After I learned of her cheating ways, everything fell in place. Though, before I realised it all and had learned of her deceit, I would regularly have dreams that involved her. I was processing my urge to save her and transform it into a wish to disconnect from her. That was very difficult for me as in my head she was also still that sweet girl from that horrible family. In my mind I kept excusing her behaviour as being the result of her upbringing by contra-exemplary parents. Our break up coincided with me moving out from my parents, and moving into a student dorm near the train station, and also near the forest. There my new spiritual journey took off, and I would go to the woods there often.

In the forest behind the zoo was a bench where me and her had our first kiss, and I had carved our initials in that wooden bench. The first time I went back to that bench to cross those initials in a sort of self-thought of ritual I found that the bench had been replaced. The old bench was gone. The new bench didn’t overlook the railroad that laid near, but was turned 180 degrees facing the forest. I took this as a sign I was on the right track. I had to take an 180 and do things differently. During that time I would often find myself in the company of old friends, one of which was a female friend who I used to be so terribly in love with, like head over heels. But that was over, and when she visited me she had a boyfriend. A guy from Spain.

Any way. In that forest, on that same bench I would one day feel I was ready for female companionship again, and I asked out loud if the universe would please help me find the woman I deserve and that I’d be or become the man she deserved. Quite a balanced request if you’d ask me. It would take only a few days before the answer came. It started with this dream.

The Game Show:

In the dream of last night it was a fact that I had dreamt about Z’s Spanish boyfriend. In that dream this guy had cheated on her. So to be clear; I hadn’t dreamt this for real; it was a given in this dream that I had dreamt this. Because other things from earlier dreams had turned out to come true, I felt it was my duty to inform her of this dream. But I told her in the most clumsy way I could have. I was nervous, and even inserted some bad jokes, referring to him as “Lupe” in order to paint him as a negative stereotype of a Hispanic dude. Z was not amused and compared this dream I told her about with another dream I had about my ex, which also was about cheating. I told Z about this dream when she came to visit in real life.

But I defended my ex’ cheating, saying there were mitigating circumstances: “That’s not fair, Z. My ex was made this way by her past, but she doesn’t want to be like this.” Z was mad but calm, and firm in her response, telling me that I had no right to tell her about this dream concerning her Spanish boyfriend if I was not willing to see the parallels between what happened in that dream with what happened in real life with my ex, ending with: “Maybe it’s time you dream some more about your ex instead of my boyfriend.” She then turned around and walked away, without looking back. I cried. Z was right. I knew it in my heart. But I wasn’t ready to face that truth. Now I had angered my friend Z and in the dream it was something that would not just be easily repaired. If I wanted to get her friendship back, I had to let go of my ex completely.

After having this realisation, I was suddenly teleported somewhere else. It was a featureless greenish dark grey room, but so big and dark that I could not see where the walls started, and how high the ceiling was. My ex was there too, but she was unable to speak somehow. I think her mouth was taped shut with duct-tape. She pushed me away when I approached her. So I took my distance, but then she stopped me and tried to get me to come closer. When I did, she pushed me again. This went on a few times, until I broke the cycle and told her: “If there is something you want from me, this is your chance, cause I want to move on with my life, with or without you.”

It was evident she struggled to let me go. Somehow in that dream I was aware of her inner struggle, almost telepathically. It was a fight between her heart and her desire to live up to her mother’s expectations. Following her heart meant failing those expectations. Meeting those expectations meant letting go of her heart’s desires. I felt her pain. But now the dream took a lurid turn. It became a game show, and the voice of a game show host was heard loudly in the room, talking fast and excited. He sounded a bit like an auction host, or an announcer at a baseball game.

The host explained: “Here – we – have Willem!! Willem has a choice to make… He can make one of two choices!” Two doors appeared side by side out of no where. “Be-hind dooooor nummmmber one, there is a reality, where she would always stay with him, but she will never change…! Be-hind dooooor nummmmber two, there is a reality where he will never get back with her, but she would have a chance to free herself and discover who she really is. WHAT WILL HE CHOOSE?! Will he pick, door number one? Or door number two? We are about to find out…” I didn’t know what I wanted to pick. This was a difficult choice for me. What I wanted was the best of both worlds, but I understood this was not possible.

I could never trust her if we remained together, but if I didn’t allow for her to lose her friendship with me there would be no incentive for her to change herself. Meaning she could only change if she lost me, but I wanted her to stay with me and change. It was a dilemma. I wasn’t allowed to think too long about it though. It wasn’t clear how much (or little) time I had, but it was implied there was a limit because above the doors appeared an analogue timer, counting seconds past, that ran after the host had finished talking, while a tick-tock sound played. So I looked deep within myself and thought it through. If I could have her, but she would remain untrustworthy and deceitful, that didn’t sound appealing. But losing her forever was also not what I wanted. But then I realised something, and asked myself the question: “Do I love her?”

If I did, then my own wishes should not stand in the way of her happiness. And I could never truly make her happy if she remained with me. But if I allowed her to move on, there was a chance she could free herself. She would not have my help, but perhaps that was the point of it and it something she should do on her own. The more I thought about it, the more I realised there was truly only one choice. I would have to let her go. I chose door number 2, and I understood to finalise this choice I had to open op that door and walk through it. And so I took the first steps in the direction of that door, leaving my ex standing behind me.

But there was still some doubt in me somewhere, and I think my ex picked up on that, and now had removed the duct-tape from her mouth. She screamed in panic and agony: “PLEASE WILLEM NO! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!” It hurt me right in my soul. I looked back and she was on her knees, one arm stretched towards me as to begging me to take her hand. I felt a certain lure, as if it was a last ditch effort of a siren, persuading me to enter the mist. I felt hesitation build up in me. But I wanted to be done with this love. It hurt me too much. I hasted towards the door, and I knew the moment I went through the decision would be final, and irreversible.

I grabbed the door handle of the second door, and immediately blinding light came forth from the edges of the door, all around the rectangular shape of the doorframe. It was light, but it had properties of water, as if a wall of water was being held back on the other side. It was beautiful, and I was surprised. And now I was actually curious about the reality that awaited me behind that door, which I hadn’t even thought of. What would my life be like? I heard one more plea from my ex, as I pushed the door handle down, and as I had pushed all the way down I woke up immediately by the sound of a very loud bang noise.

Aftermath:

It was really strange to be awake after this dream. I wasn’t at all sure if the loud noise was part of the dream, or part of my reality, or perhaps whether dream and real are actually a merger in another way. But even though I was quite sure the noise came from somewhere in the house, it was too coincidentally timed, which is why I was a bit in doubt. Later that day I found out one of my house mates in the student dorm had accidentally kicked over her night stand at the end of her bed in her sleep with her feet. Truly an amazing coincidence. She came to apologise for the noise, but I actually think it was meant to happen.

Here’s the most beautiful part of that dream. I dreamt this on the night between Monday and Tuesday. The next day after this experience I would meet a woman online, and talk to her. We chatted and chatted, and eventually I called her so we could hear each other’s voices. We really clicked. Only a few days after, on the 13th of June, we would meet on a date. That date actually never ended, cause we are still together. There is nobody in this world who has given me more love and appreciation than her. I think she was behind that door. She accepts me as I am, strengths and flaws. Being with her is the happiest I’ve ever been. She is the light that entered my life once I had made the decision to truly part with my ex, spiritually.

And as for my ex, I truly hope she finds a way to free herself from the entrapment of her family situation.

Date: 08-06-2015

This dream started at my childhood house. We all lived there again; my parents, me, and my siblings. My brother now had a girlfriend who was much younger than he was. Her name was Brittany, and she was a girl of African descent that was just under 18 years old. The latter formed a problem. We were about to go on vacation together (the whole family and the girl), and it was supposed to be a long lasting vacation. I think our destination was Egypt, but I am not entirely sure about that.

If Brittany’s mother knew the truth about why Brittany wanted to come along, she would not be allowed to go, so my parents, brother, and the girl herself had been lying about the nature of the request for her to be allowed to accompany us. Were she 18, this wouldn’t be an issue, but they needed the approval of her one parent. I’m not sure where her dad was or if he was even still in the picture.

But there was a problem. Brittany’s mother had come to know the truth, and she was at the backdoor of our neighbours’ house. This was something this woman apparently did every time she wanted to speak my parents; she would pick the wrong house, and not use the doorbell at the front door, but would trespass into the backyard of our neighbours and knock on their door expecting members of our family to show up. Safe to say; she was a bit of a nut job.

Her Dutch language skills were non-existent, and she only spoke very broken English. But she was there again, and had figured out the truth, and at a time we were just about to leave for the airport. I proposed I would go to the mother of Brittany and speak to her. My parents agreed I was best suited to take on this task and use my diplomacy skills. I would be the logical pick to speak to this woman on behalf of my brother, and would speak to her with truth. My brother gave me an appreciative nod.

I exited our house and walked around to the neighbours’ house, and on my way there I rehearsed what I was going to say to her. I concluded it was best to just tell her what the truth was, which is that my brother and her daughter loved each other. There was nothing more beautiful than that. I came around the corner and immediately my presence had a positive effect on that nervous little lady that stood there, apparently still oblivious she was at the wrong house.

But now, one of our neighbours came walking towards us from the yard. She and her husband, and their visitors too, had been hiding behind the bushes in their yard, where they had been sitting at a table sharing a meal. They had kept their conversation down as to not alert the woman knocking on their door. My neighbour started complaining to me about the mother of Brittany. “Do you know this woman? She comes to our house often asking for your family. I cannot understand what she wants, and she doesn’t understand me!”

I apologised to my neighbour, and explained the situation. She reluctantly accepted my explanation. In as simple English words I could use I ushered the little woman to our house. When we arrived it turned out my brother and Brittany had left already. My parents did not know whereto, but they had left together. But that wasn’t even the most important thing; we were now in a real hurry to leave unless we wanted to miss our flight. We didn’t, obviously.

But oh boy, I hadn’t even packed my things. And I had to take so many things with me that it didn’t look like a vacation to me. We were going to live there? My computer had to come with, the monitors, my chair, my bed, everything. I packed it all into crates and brought them downstairs. I was going to leave now, in a small fan, alone. Where the mother was, I don’t know. The dream seems to have taken a sudden turn into another direction.

My brother was back now, suddenly, and he had a lot of friends over. They were supposed to be mutual friends, but I knew none of them. They were broad and muscular men, built like warriors, and some were unrealistically tall, up to 10 feet high!  And they were guarding me. Somehow I was their leader. But I was in the service of another one in that group; a little fairy, that resembled Tinkebell from the Peter Pan lore. She was small and tender, with little butterfly wings.

The dream took a bit of a turn again, and the whole ‘going to the airport’ thing seems to have been abandoned. The whole group was going to a restaurant now. They were already there, and I was again late; a common theme in this dream. I arrived at the restaurant, but it wasn’t a pleasant restaurant. It wasn’t obvious to just anyone, but to me it had an ominous atmosphere. It was evil but in a non-obvious way. When I entered I saw it filled with guest I can only describe as various typical mafia bosses.

I had an appointment with someone here, and therefore it wasn’t a hustle to get past the entry chaperone. This was also due to me walking in with apparent confidence. I used a property of mine I sometimes found in the astral plane and went with it. Inside at one of the tables a mobster was waiting for me. He wanted to cut me a deal; I would leave him alone, and he would leave me alone. But I wasn’t sure about signing this. I wanted to take a leak first. He agreed to this.

So I went looking for the bathroom. I found it in a small alleyway inside the restaurant. The toilet bowl was hidden in a corner behind a burgundy red curtain. It was the same kind of curtain that also hung in front of the living room window of my childhood house. I went to the toilet, but telepathically I now sensed that the mobster had decided to just kill me and be done with it, and I foresaw he had sent an obese assassin to kill me in the bathroom. I foresaw how he looked; a big fat guy, bald, wearing a suit in the same colour as that curtain in the bathroom.

And indeed this figure walked in and pretended to wash his hands. But I was completely unafraid. I somehow had gained the confidence and imagined myself to be an Angel of the Lord, and if he were to try anything I would just choke him out with my left hand, and perform an expulsion with my right hand. There was nothing this guy could do to harm me, and I think I radiated this confidence outwards cause he gave me a few looks and seemed to be hesitating before making his next move.

He then tried to walk towards me but I had already foreseen his next plan, so with telekinetic powers I shoved him into a little room and locked the door. I did all this without touching anyone or anything. I thought it and it happened, even the locks were moved through my thoughts alone. These telekinetic abilities came with a low humming noise as if a big diesel generator stood nearby, and sometimes it would make a crackle noise, like the sparks flying off a short circuiting wire. It sounded almost exactly like the engines on the hovercrafts in the matrix movies.

I went back the way I came and saw the cloakroom. In this restaurant it was custom for people to bring their coats there themselves and pick them up again. There I saw one of the teachers of the ROCMN school, and her husband. These people had in real life attempted (and may have succeeded) to steal money from a school organised charity to help poor people in Thailand. Her husband was involved in that too. Something I confronted them with in real life, by the way. I saw these people here, and they looked like they were scheming again. They hadn’t seen me. I looked on as she was looking through the coats on the racks. She looked around skittish as if to make sure no one saw her. Her husband seemed to stand watch.

She then took a very nice looking coat from the rack, took off her own coat, and switched them. She had just stolen someone else’s coat! When I witnessed her doing this and realised what exactly it was that she was doing, I used some of my previously demonstrated Angelic powers on her. I flew towards her, and pressed her to the ground with my left hand on her throat. I was going to make sure this shameless thief would not get away this time. People around us stopped what they were doing, and for a moment it seemed I was the one who was trying to steal from her, but I quickly explained: “This woman is a thief. This is not her coat, I saw her switch it with someone else’s!”

As I had clarified what had happened, one of the employees of the restaurant came to my aid. She was an Indonesian woman, and was the cloakroom manager. She calmly said to me: “Watch out for your hands.” I looked back at the teacher who had now turned into a small version of the sand worms from the 1983 Dune movie. The skin of this worm was soft and brittle though, and its colour was white. But it did sport a mouth full of teeth, though she wasn’t more than 8 inches long now. I thought the cloakroom manager meant I needed to watch out for the bite, and indeed I got bitten, but the bite didn’t break my skin, and didn’t even leave a mark. It felt like a minor pinch.

While she had warned me, the manager fumbled in her back pocket and took out a small white spray canister. Apparently this sort of thieving happened more often, and this spray was made to repel these creatures. The she actually warned me for the spray, and while I restrained the worm, she sprayed some kind of sticky freeze spray directly into the mouth of the vile squirming creature. I got some of it on my fingers. It felt sticky and cold at first, followed by a slight burning sensation. The worm on the other hand was immediately lifeless, as if all life was sucked out of it instantly. The woman asked me if I was alright. As she asked, I could already feel the burning sensation dissipate, so I replied: “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” The husband was nowhere to be found. It seems he had just fled the scene and abandoned her in typical coward fashion.

I went back into the restaurant, where now all hell had broken loose. The dream took a slight turn again, and outside in the city of Amersfoort was now a festival. The theme of this festival was ‘monsters’, mostly demonic monsters. The idea of it was that people would dress up in monster costumes and scare each other while dancing, but all tongue in the cheek. It was all fun and games. But nobody knew that actual demons had gathered in the crowds on the streets. I was able to see through their scheme though. I saw who were real demons and who were just people playing dress up. Nobody else seemed to have noticed that what was going on now was actually a serious chase of life and death.

These friends from earlier in the dream were now back. They were sitting in the back of a pickup truck. I crawled behind the wheel, and floored it. I tried to get us out of the city centre. True demons and other monsters began chasing us. Some were very big, some even extremely big. The further we got away from the centre, the more attention we seemed to be drawing, and the more monsters came after us. And the chasing monsters became huge, some towering over the many buildings. They bent over the houses to try and stop us with their hands.

One of those monsters succeeded in getting in front of the truck, and it started threatening me. I would get one last chance, and if I did not comply there would be severe consequences. I had to cancel what ever it was I was planning to do. But again I was completely unafraid. Well, I was slightly afraid, but in a positive sense. I wanted to fight him cause I wanted to know whether I would be able to win. I told him he would not be able to stop me from being who I am. “Even if I cannot win, I will not give up. I will keep trying.” While I told him this he gained in size. He grew and grew, until he was twice the height of the buildings around us. “Than this is your consequence!” he said.

The monster signalled another smaller monster. This monster was still very large, about the same height of the buildings around us. He grabbed one of the friends from the rear of the pickup truck. His name was Jeff, and I knew him as a friend of my brother. Jeff was shirtless, and his muscular torso was covered in tattoos. On his back he had a large tattoo of Angel wings. The monster lifted Jeff up to above its own head, and then smashed him to the ground with all its strength. But the whole time Jeff had a look on his face of a true warrior. He didn’t fear death and it looked like Jeff had just planned to get up and fight the monster as soon as he hit the ground. But it wouldn’t come to that.

Jeff exploded on the tarmac like he was a water balloon filled with blood. There was nothing recognisable left of him. Only a pool of red gush and blood. The dream again took a slight turn, as I exited the vehicle and began to fly low above the street, about one or two feet above the stones that formed the street. I recognised this part of Amersfoort. It was near the music academy, situated in a historical building of this city. I flew low to the ground along the canal in the direction of a square called ‘the varkensmarkt’. There things looked different than they do in real life though.

I flew upwards to get a better view, and rose to a considerable height. In the distance I saw that my friends were now engaged in a flight with the monsters. And they fought like champions. They had spears, and seemed completely unafraid. They were seemingly working together flawlessly and would constantly assist each other in the kills they scored. They ducked, threw each other spears, pushed demons in the way of spears, pulled their allies out of harms way, held demons in position so that another could stake them, all of it. It looked epic and fantastic!

I was relieved to see my friends were doing well. I didn’t intend to abandon them in my efforts but had done so unintentionally. If I were there I would have been able to defeat those demons with a thought. But then something near me on the streets below caught my attention. The little fairy from earlier in the dream who I supposedly served came flying around the corner. I came down to the roofs and observed her. She hadn’t spotted me. I was relieved that she was safe. But then she went into the street in front of the building I was sitting on top of.

She stopped flying and started walking. While walking she transformed into a nasty looking old woman. She was short and thick, with a crooked posture, white grey hair, wearing a knitted pink sweater. I only now saw what I saw instantly with the demons, being able to distinguish demons from dressed up people; this was an evil woman. In an instant I realised she was the one who controlled the monsters. She was behind everything that had happened. She had organised this all. But she didn’t know I had escaped, and neither that I now knew her deeds and true intentions.

Date: 07-06-2015 

Last night I had a grim pursuit dream where my brother and I were being chased by an angry mob. It was night time, and M and I were browsing through a newly built residential area. A few houses were finished and you could see people already lived there, but most houses were still under construction. My brother and I were doing something childish, like ring and run or something. Maybe not that but something of that calibre. Something we were clearly too old for, but that just made it extra funny to us.

But then the dream took a sudden turn. The people from the neighbourhood we’d been bothering were mad at us, and they exited their houses to chase us. But they weren’t all people! Some of them were shadow figures; 3D renders of humans, but completely made of darkness. They were the same shadow people I sometimes see when I slip between this reality and the dream world. In this dream, these beings didn’t resemble demons, but they were servants of dark evil spirits. M and I took off and ran for our lives. I was able to sprint and then hover over the ground, which gave me a speed advantage. I hovered from one house to the other, landing each time in the open places where windows were supposed to go as these houses were not finished.

M was able to keep up with me, but he was slowing us down a bit. That wasn’t a problem until the angry mob started to catch up with us, and they were trying to box us in. We arrived at one of the borders of this residential area and we could see a long driveway that led to a farmhouse. We ran towards one of the barns and hid ourselves in a chicken enclosure. The chickens became alert. They weren’t too scared of us, but their activity level increased as we sat hunched down with them. The commotion in the enclosure had alerted the farmer, and suddenly we saw an old man in blue overalls walk into the barn.

He was your typical old man farmer, with a farmers’ hat, lower jaw sticking out a bit. He saw us cowering between his chickens. Meanwhile the angry crowd had figured we had probably fled to the farm to hide, and we could hear them approach the farm from the road. We peeked through the wooden boards of the barn, and could see one of the people had “turned” into police officer, wearing police uniform, armed with a handgun, the works. We had no idea who’s side the farmer was on. But then he gave us a smile, and opened the inward opening door to this barn, so that we were out of sight for the mob of people who were approaching.

He was on our side. We peeked through the cracks in the wooden wall and saw that now all people had transformed into police officers, and they had photos of us with them. They walked up to the farmer and showed him these photos, and asked him if he had seen the two guys on the photos. The farmer looked at each of the photos, one by one, and quickly established: “Never seen them before, now kindly remove yourself from my property.” They had no other option than to leave. My brother and I were safe.

Analysis 07-02-2024:

I am writing this analysis the better part of 10 years after I had this dream. Although it was a short dream it does reveal something important. At the time I wasn’t able to place this in the right context.

I think my brother and me doing something childish was just us being us. Even in our adult lives we still fool around with fireworks, and draw penises with sharpies on items outside, just for the fun of it. It comes naturally to us. It’s innocent fun. We were just being us.

I think the angry mob that started to chase us, revealed something sinister is in the works, the beginning of which I have seen during the ‘COVID-19 pandemic”. People, under the influence of a dark force, turned against us. We were inconveniencing them by being who we are. During the plandemic I’ve seen people turn against me for just being who I am; non-conforming.

The prediction goes tier up. People turned into police officers. During the plandemic people ratted out their non-conforming neighbours. It was a time of snitch lines (phone numbers you could call to anonymously report your peers) and forced conformity through law enforcement. And job offers opened up in (temporary) law enforcement, resulting in people – who lost their job due to lockdowns – now enforcing the oppressive rules. They literally turned into police officers. I suspect we’re going to see a whole lot more of this in the future.

I am glad to have been with my brother. He didn’t conform either.

The farmer I think is one of our spiritual guides. The blue overalls gave him away, if not the way he had our backs.

An interesting thing also is that this dream took place at a location that didn’t exist yet at the time of this dream. I now recognise this neighbourhood from my own village. It was built in the last 4 years or so. There is no farm, though.

Date: unknown, but at least no later than 2003

Introduction:

This is the oldest dream experience of mine I can relate in such high detail. This occurred when I was no older than 18 years. Few of the other dream experiences in this journal measure up to it. It happened on a night between Saturday and Sunday. At the time I worked at a reptile shop, where they sold all kinds of exotic animals. At home in my tiny attic room all the walls were shelved up from the floor to the ceiling, and on each shelf stood a terrarium (an animal enclosure that mimics a habitat – a terrarium is the terrestrial counterpart to an aquarium). Though the room was small I had utilised every inch to the max for this hobby, and so I kept quite a lot of animals of various types. Spiders, insects, other arthropods, amphibians, and lizards. One of the lizards was an especially tame bearded dragon. This is how I got him.

One day my colleagues and I arrived at the store, to find a carton box with three of these beardies out in front of the door. Whoever brought them probably couldn’t take care of them any more, but maybe they felt ashamed and hoped this would be the best thing to do, like leaving a baby in front of a fire station. One of these beardies was incredibly tame. We could not house them all, so I adopted him and named him Raenk. Now, if you are not a fan of lizards, it may be hard to understand how deep this dream experience below was, so I do have to address this first before I proceed. To most people, all bearded dragons look alike and they don’t look friendly. But for those that keep them or who kept them in the past, each looks unique. It’s the same with people who observe orcas in the wild; they can tell them apart from a glance, and they can describe character traits of each.

The same goes for me when it comes to beardies. Anyone who has cared for beardies can attest they each have their own unique character and habits. No one beardy is quite the same as the next. To most people they do not look cute nor cuddly, but I assure you they are. I was close to these animals the same way most people are close to their favourite dog, cat, horse, etc. This was especially true for Raenk. I had given him a big enclosure, which was open on the above side, with a bright brood heating lamp hanging on a cord above it. This enclosure sat in an unused corner of the room, under a sloping wall. The space was otherwise unusable, but I made the enclosure in such a way it used every inch for Raenk to explore.

And he absolutely loved it. He would climb and dig, and spent hours on end basking under the brood lamp. But Raenk never slept there. Ever since I had gotten him I had picked him up in the evening, and put him in between an old towel, and laid him next to my pillow in the far left corner of my bed. During weekdays I would wake up before he did, and put him inside his enclosure while he remained asleep. During the weekend and off days however, I would sleep in, and Raenk would wake up before I did. These were my favourite mornings, as Raenk would perform a morning routine. He’d come out of his towel, and warmed himself on me, sometimes even crawling onto my face with his cold body. After an hour or so of heating up, he would jump off the bed and run around in my room. He would bother the other lizards in their enclosures on ground level, or ran back and forth in my room.

Raenk was a male, and male bearded dragons ‘head bang’ to show dominance to other males and to impress any nearby females. I did also have some female beardies, and Raenk made sure to give them a morning show every time he could. It annoyed me sometimes as I couldn’t really sleep as soon as he was awake, but deep inside I found it was actually hilarious and joyful. It was a morning routine on all my off days. Until one day I came home and Raenk didn’t want to eat. It was nothing to worry about because they sometimes skip a meal when for example they are shedding skin. But he kept refusing food in the days after, and back in the exotic pet store we had some kind of disease outbreak which killed off part of our inventory.

It soon seemed to be the case I had brought this infectious bug home with me, and Raenk now had it. He got worse by the day. The disease was a microscopic parasite that infected the intestines of its host. Infected animals stop eating and develop diarrhea. When the disease persists because it isn’t treated in time, or the medication isn’t working well, the diarrhea will worsen and become bloody. Unless treated the infected animal dies. We had plenty of the stuff needed to treat this at work and I was quick to start the medication, but Raenk wasn’t getting better. His condition would approve one day just to worsen the next. The diarrhea dragged on, even though I had taken all kinds of measures to prevent reinfection. 

Even going to far as to clean out his entire enclosure whole, boiling all the stones, discarding the sand, and washing all other items with bleach water, the same for every millimetre of the inside of his living space, and having him sleep in a fresh towel each morning. He gradually got worse over the span of a few weeks until I one day came home to find a pool of bloody diarrhea in his enclosure. Raenk looked terrible. He was near his end. A sick bearded dragon can look so horrible just before death and their eyes can sink so far into their skull you’d swear the eyeballs are touching each other on the inside of their little heads. He looked up at me and I just broke. I didn’t want to lose my little buddy. Raenk was truly my own, not some shared family pet. I had never seen a bearded dragon with his level of personality. During summer he would run around in the backyard and play with our rabbit and a tame male blackbird. He was truly unique among the unique, and I felt he was my pal.

I went downstairs to tell my parents Raenk was probably not going to make the night. They were sorry to hear it, but there was nothing they could do but to see me go through this. I went up that evening after dinner, and didn’t leave his side. I sat on my bed and had Raenk with me in a towel, stroking his little head. I could see he was in pain. I was going to make sure he would pass as comfortable as possible, and he wasn’t going to die alone. I wanted to make sure he knew I was there, watching out for him. Time crawled forward. Occasionally I would check if he was still here. As time progressed it became harder to tell, but sometimes there was movement because he took a breath, or he opened his mouth because he felt a jolt of pain.

Eventually it became so late that I was getting tired myself. I fought sleep but after some time I couldn’t any more. So I took Raenk in his towel, laid down in my bed, but instead of putting him next to me, I placed him in his towel on my chest, so his head would be near my chin. I put my pillow upright so I could see him. I then pulled the blanket over the two of us up to his head. I kept fighting my sleep, until I suddenly woke out of a slumber, realising Raenk was squirming in the towel. He was squirming and squirming, and I could see he was in so much pain. I panicked and didn’t know what to do, until he pooped something hard and bloody from his rear end. Defeated he laid to rest on the towel as I examined this weird bloody expulsion. 

Raenk now looked deader than before, but he was still here. I examined the bulb he pooped out and couldn’t identify what it was. It was stony, but it was no stone or clutch of sand. Eventually I repositioned us as before. As I entered the twilight of the dreamworld again, thoughts in my head began to grind. This was so unfair. Why did this animal, who was innocent in everything, have to suffer so much for something it hadn’t caused? I was especially obsessed with how unfair his death would be, and I felt I was ever less acceptive about the prospects of his inevitable end that night. My focus on the unfairness of it and my rejection of having to say goodbye moulded into one shape in my mind, that became my motivation to try and mentally cheer him on to keep fighting.

My focus intensified to such a degree that in that moment I forgot where I was, didn’t care whether I took regular breaths or not, didn’t think of anything else but to try and keep Raenk with me. I was not going to accept his demise, and I felt like I was opening a dialogue with death himself, telling him: “No!” And that’s when it happened.

Near Death Extraction:

Suddenly, I felt a motion as if the bed was being lifted up one feet into the air and started spinning counter-clockwise from my perspective. The motion felt subtle at first, like being in an elevator as it started moving. While I looked at the ceiling the room was spinning by slowly. But it picked up speed in a quick but gradual way, until it was spinning so unbelievably fast that I couldn’t make out any details of my surroundings any more. The spinning created a smudge of the room as it passed by, so I focussed on the centre point on the ceiling. As it sped up this visually morphed into the shape of a tunnel. The feeling of being inside a washing machine stopped instantly as soon as the tunnel had completely formed from the swirling vortex, and I was immediately blinded by the whitest light imaginable coming from the tunnel.

As my eyes got used to the light I began to see details of the tunnel. It seemed like a straight tubular tunnel with rocky walls, with a smooth silk white path down in the middle of it. At the far end a bright light was shining. Dumbfounded and perplexed I was processing what had just happened. I only knew one thing for sure; I felt a strong sense that I was not allowed to be here. It felt like whoever held agency over this place was surprised to see me here and who – in a fun, and light hearted tone – shared with me the thought: “Hey. You’re not supposed to be here?” Like a mother who had discovered a butterfly on the bed sheets which had been hanging outside to dry. Then I noticed movement halfway up in the tunnel in the distance. It was Raenk, walking happily and healthy away from me towards the light.

Without hesitation I jumped into the tunnel to run upwards and get him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move forward. I could move every which way, except forwards, like I was being forced back by an energy barrier. I kept trying to no avail, and Raenk was getting further and further away from me. I then tried to yell out his name, but again I couldn’t. I even brought my hands to the side of my mouth to form a cone as to increase my audible range, took a deep breath, and yelled as loud as I could: “RAENK!!!“. But no sound came forth from my throat. I was muted here. I kept trying to shout my lungs out but I could not even produce so much as a squeak. Raenk kept moving away from me. The rules in this place were different than in my own realm.

In a last ditch effort I thought to myself: “What if I just think his name as loud as I can? Just really focus and call out to him from my mind.” I focussed and focussed, and thought about my little buddy, and asked him to come back to me. And… Raenk slowed down… He stopped… Sat there for a moment… He looked over his shoulder, and he saw me. It was working! I ushered him with my hands to come back towards me. He hesitated a moment, but eventually he did! He turned around and started walking back to me. I readied both my hands to pick him up the moment he would come into reach, and as soon as I got him I picked him up and put him on my chest, looking at my all healthy little Raenk. Immediately I woke up in my bed holding Raenk with my two hands while he was still partially under the covers. I was laying in the position I was standing on in that experience.

It was late in the morning now, and it was light outside. The whole night had past by in a blink. Raenk looked very lively. He had lifted up his head, and he looked at me through healthy eyes. As if someone had pumped his body up with life juice or something, his eyes were no longer sunken into his skull. He looked fine. Skinny, but otherwise healthy. He wriggled himself loose from my hands and happily warmed himself on my chest. He wasn’t dead. When I came down, my family was up. My mother saw me in the kitchen, all pale white and all perplexed, and she thought Raenk had died. But I told her he was not just still alive, but he was completely fine, and I related to her the surreal experience I had gone through. She didn’t know what to make of it. It would take a few days, but Raenk would be back to his old self again, eating, showing off to the ladies, etc. He lived for quite some time after this experience.

Aftermath:

It was such a strange and unearthly experience. Truly surreal. It felt like it wasn’t even a dream, but somehow felt so real that it seemed fake. That sounds counter-intuitive, but it’s somehow accurate. I don’t know how to explain this any other way than to say it felt like it happened not to me but to somebody else, and that I was a spectator through their eyes, going through the motions. And yet it was me. I made all those decisions. I just can’t explain it any other way.

But whatever happened, I think that this was sort of a ‘near death experience’ (NDE), though it wasn’t me that was dying. I got pulled in with my dying pet, who’s loss I did not want to accept. In my rejection of the reality of this situation I found and held a focus I had never held before in my life. And even as I write this in 2024 I can say I have not yet held on to such a level of focus for any such length of time again since. I think I was so attached to this little creature that this attachment pulled me with him the moment he died. And the attachment was both ways I think as he seemed to have chosen to stay with me.

How he was completely fine after this experience is inexplicable to me. A sceptic might say that the thing he pooped (a stony hard ball of clay-ish material mixed with blood) was bothering him, but I can tell you he looked worse after he got it out. He looked like he gave his last to do this, which maybe shows not even he was ready to leave this world himself, fighting until his very last breath. Before I got pulled into the tunnel it was like I could feel his life slip through my hands.

This experience changed me, deeply. Even though I became an atheist eventually still despite having had this experience, it has always remained with me as a vivid memory. An anomaly. It feels to me like I almost had a sort of NDE, without all the happenings that many people who have had such an experience go through. I never actually entered the tunnel. They most often did. I was unable to do so, not allowed even.

I have a feeling that when I forced myself into that realm, something in that realm took notice of me. Maybe that something is responsible for the other experiences I’ve had in the dream realm. It’s speculation upon speculation, yes, but I don’t feel like holding back in my own writings. This is what I think is the case. I was grateful Raenk was okay, and am grateful I was allowed to have had this experience.

Raenk did eventually die, about 6 months later, and from the same disease no less, though his death was quicker and less painful this time. I guess I wasn’t allowed to keep him on my own terms.

I know for sure this happened on the night between Saturday and Sunday, as the day I found him I had come back from work (my working days were Wednesday to Saturday), and the next morning my parents were both downstairs and not at work (their working days were Monday to Friday). The date on which I write this experience on my website is Friday 23-02-2024. When I posted this I just changed the year to 2003, and left ’23rd of February’ as it was. Curious, after having saved the draft, I looked up which day this date is. The 23rd of February 2003 is a Sunday. Who knows… Could be the correct date.