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There is a punk or rock band doing an interview while walking through a dense field along a small, shallow creek. I am a camera operator trying to keep up with them as they walk and talk. I follow one of the spiky haired dudes into the creek and try to keep pace without getting my camera wet. As we trudge through the creek it slowly becomes wider and at one point (and quite suddenly) deeper. The band and other camera operators disappear as the sun starts to set and I am left to struggle out of the creek alone.

I see my family's old 1986 Westfalia sitting a distance away, near the edge of a dirt road. Still soaking wet I drop the camera and get into the vehicle, where I find myself with Dad, Mom, and brother Ryan. It is dark now and we seem to drive around aimlessly. I cannot see where we are going. Ryan is doing something to annoy me (but I can't remember what) and I feel angry. We pass small towns or buildings in the dark that are adorned with lots of bright lights and decorations). We are supposed to drop Ryan off somewhere (he is to meet up with his friend James, I think) but he disappears from (or exits) the van before we find the destination.

My parents drive past a few more small, brightly lit towns and then back into the dark country side. They suddenly turn off the van's headlights and drive in the dark. I can still feel (and vaguely see) the backseat that I am sitting on, but otherwise am completely surrounded by darkness. I can no longer see or hear Mom and Dad, but I assume they are still there because I can still feel the vibration of the van moving (though I can no longer hear the vehicle's engine as well).

The darkness surrounding me feels thick and heavy and I feel like I am being suffocated.

Morning of June 21, 2007. Thursday.



My wife is going to a doctor’s appointment (which she does after my dream in real life because of experiencing new unexpected pain from a C-section) and for some reason, I am on the same bus but possibly going to a different destination. We are eventually somehow where I used to live years ago in La Crosse and it seems to be getting colder and colder. We are the only ones on the bus at first. My wife eventually notices that everything is closed because it is a holiday and she soon wonders why they made an appointment for her on a day when nothing is open. Also, the bus is soon seemingly taking a different and incorrect route because of the holiday.

The bus we are on stops near a garage and I notice an old friend and coworker from years ago, Randy S, and ask him (as he is walking down the aisle to the back of the us) “Do you still work at…” and he finishes my sentence (incorrectly) saying “AP Motorworks” which sounds really familiar in-dream (but not in conscious afterthought). For some reason, my friend does not seem to know who I am, though. He gets on the bus with at least two taller males. (The actual place we worked together was the factory in La Crosse called “Northern Engraving” yet in my dream, I am thinking of an earlier job I had where he did not work, called “Eco Three”.)

I later notice that I am holding a large newspaper that is an odd mix of English and Cyrillic/Russian. I notice that the “reverse N” (which represents I or Y), has been replaced in a few phrases by the Chinese character for “dragon”, yet it also illogically is supposed to be an older form of that Cyrillic letter. I read a bit here and there about the “coldest day ever” and some other events and I notice that a Russian male (of about 25 years old or older) is sitting in the next seat near me. My seat I am on (but not his) faces out from the side of the bus (as in real life, but farther back). A couple others are making rude remarks about me because I have the ability to read newspapers (and apparently the ability to read at all) which seems rather odd. They do not even know the paper is in more than one language as they cannot read or even recognize symbols of any kind - including stop signs.

The Russian talks to me very meaningfully, pointing out the Chinese character saying that it is a very sad “letter” to do with pity and bad times and something about an approaching coldness that has never been so bad before. He explains that the character is made up of the combinations of a few letters - including my wife’s initials - somehow relative to her mother being the “dragon” - but it also has to do with the problems of socialism. I also get a very strong feeling of what it must have been like to live in Siberia over a hundred years ago. Oddly, the newspaper seems to be from a few days in the future and yet also from the 1800s.

After awhile, everyone starts sneezing continuously. I sneeze on myself and soon pull up my coat (which suddenly appears out of nowhere) and lift it so high that it becomes more like a tent that I am inside, to keep warm. (I guess it is also now protecting me from the particulates of other people’s sneezes.)

The bus is not moving at one point and the motor stops running - and some people are soon doing repairs. It seems as if we will be spending days on the bus (in the cold) until they get it going again, yet, still, more and more people are getting on the bus to where it is getting crowded.

After waking, it is not cold at all in the room (even though my feet feel like blocks of ice) but about a day later, it has gotten colder and colder and people are saying it is the coldest day ever. I personally do not remember feeling this cold since living in Australia. We even brought the birds in for the first time ever. Oddly enough, it got so cold, my wife took a bus in an area she usually just walks from.

Morning of June 16, 2007. Saturday.



I have had variations of this dream setting most of my life. I first started calling it the “Enchanted Forest” in 1968 (at age seven), after the Harvey comic book location (for example as with “Casper the Friendly Ghost”) which likely influenced it.

There is a place that you can get to by way of a certain older dirt road (sometimes a rut road), and often part of the road is slightly muddy and overgrown so that many people do not know it is there even though it only takes moving a bush or tall grasses aside.

This place that is seemingly only in my dreams is fairly large (I am sometimes able to estimate the distance from how far it goes before coming out near a highway on the other side, though coming out of the area before my dream ends does not often occur). There are some turns; I would say about four main changes before you get to the “best” areas in the apparent middle. I often show two or more people (often friends or former classmates) where it is and feel a great joy at going in to show them around and we usually go in at about a twenty-two degree angle (about half of the standard vertical diagonal of forty-five degrees) and I am not certain, but we always seem to be going in from the west with a particular seemingly familiar area of entry.

There are usually areas that are so “hidden” (from other parts of the nearby path), that such a thing would not be possible in real life, especially near a main road. There is also sometimes an idea of animals around that cannot be found anywhere else; often certain types of bears, wolves, or wild boars, but with no stronger fear factor involved; just the knowledge of what direction to go from that point if becoming aware of one.

Most of the time, the secret forest seems to reflect the same mood as always or fictional “memories”, and it seems that I had been the only one to know about the area for a long time. It is so clear, it is sometimes possible to make a general map of the area (though it would not be exact, as sometimes, it seems to change slightly, often relative to slight flooding or more plant growth in different versions). The area usually also reflects an amazing feeling of appreciation which is hard to explain.

There are only a couple of other places (both fictional) that I have dreamt about (about half as often) many times; an area in an unknown city near a certain set of streets where there are also train tracks, and some sort of eerie area in a bigger city which often has a hint of potential danger of some kind of large rat (which also always has the same mood but more eerie than the others).

This time, near the ending point of my dream, after we are back in town, I am somewhat lucid. At least, lucid enough to think to myself of the phrase “this dream seems so real, I can make out the reflections in water moisture on the bark of the trees” (which I can). I am amazed at the details of the buildings and the plants, and take it all in. Some of the homes on a particular street look amazing, with beautiful ornate details.

After a little while, my dream becomes less vivid as I am waking. I notice that one of the people who had apparently been with me is a young girl, but is not really a girl at all; more like some sort of walking plant with no actual human characteristics. The “arms” and “legs” seem to be made out of corn-silk and there is no actual head (or even “body” so to speak); just a cluster of wheat or corn husk or some such. I find it quite odd, yet the other people I am with seem normal, but I do not say anything. It actually seems like some sort of “familiar” entity and faithful “friend” but I do not recall seeing “her” at any previous time in any dream, at least not in this particular unusual form.

Morning of May 27, 2007. Sunday.

This was a very weird and vivid (but not what you would call lucid) dream about primarily my right hand being continuously injured and each finger almost coming off at different times during the dream.

My fingers (all four, but not including my thumb, which remains okay in the dream) somehow get cut by paper I am reading from, I believe - to where it causes all of their flesh to detach from the rest of my hand near the middle of the joints.

(I need to point out that the bone is never damaged or detached, just the fleshy areas, although it does seem at times like the entire finger may come off, but that does not actually happen.)

The sensations are extremely vivid and realistic in every sense of the word. There is not as much blood as one would expect and a couple times, I think of wrapping bandages around them. I even try to manually push the severed flesh back around the finger bone and it actually works for the most part.

It is very weird as the dream draws to a close; somehow my fingers (their flesh) perfectly reunite with the flesh they had somehow torn from, almost like a strong magnetic pull that “melts” the flesh back together and at the same time, having a sort of flowing effect (hard to explain), almost like pouring a glass of water into another but more of a sort of jelly-like rejoining.

Just prior to fully waking, my hand is perfectly whole again (better than ever) although it is very cold (and slowly coming back to life) and with a chalky powder around the fingers where the worst damage was. Of course, no scars will result, since the flesh flawlessly “melted” back together again.

Morning of April 19, 2007. Thursday.



My family and I are back at the apartment we used to live in about two years ago. However, our mentally disabled neighbor (to the south of us in real life on Barolin Street, in the halfway house) lives across the street in a semitrailer, but there is only a vague scene where he appears making some sort of loud animal noises as he does in life, but only for a short time. The semitrailer seems to be completely empty but he still lives there. (In real life, he had shouted gibberish at random times day and night , so it is possible he shouted once or twice and it became part of my dream.)

There are not many buildings around other than the four-block apartment complex we live in in-dream. The other three units have not been lived in for a long time, and I get this strong feeling that the whole area is going to eventually become part of a new development project within a month or so (this aspect turned out to be precognitive as well as the other precognitive layer described below). The area is completely different to real life, though. The four-block set of units is actually right on the edge of a cliff in a sort of triangular section with our apartment seeming the most safe. Actually, the ground has fallen out from underneath a couple of them already, making them unsafe. The apartment we live in is actually closest to the slightly curved road and there is the idea that the other apartments are not even safe enough to walk around in now. There is also a newer road below, part of it going directly under the apartment complex area. I soon notice that I can actually look through the window of one of the empty apartments and look down and see through gaps in the floor and down to the road below, where I notice a truck passing underneath.

I have a strong awareness that the owner of the place has not done any maintenance for a few years. I am also aware that there are stoves and refrigerators in the other apartments, but in poor condition. I put my hand on the outer wall of one of the apartment units, and there is almost immediately a rumbling, and dirt falling from everywhere around the unit. The whole apartment unit collapses down off from the cliff to the more solid ground below. It is about four stories down. This - from one brief touch of my hand.

I start to become more concerned about our own living area. Surely it must be fairly safe? A woman of about forty appears at around the same time I start to wonder about our apartment. Sure enough, when I start to open the front door, our whole apartment starts to fall to the ground below.

However, all is not lost. The woman has a cardboard box, and, with no logic or sense whatsoever, manages to safely catch all of our belongings in the box before the dust settles. The idea that even a small portion of our belongings would not have fit in the box (let alone being able to be caught as the whole building was falling) never even crosses my mind. I am just glad we still have all of our possessions with no damage whatsoever - and of course, we also managed to fall from the cliff (staying in standing position) without being injured as well.

Interestingly, this dream has turned out to be precognitive on two levels and exact in terms of some of the imagery; a day later, there was something about houses in Canada falling in the same manner as in my dream, and it was something I had not been thinking about or had seen on television recently up to the time of my dream.

There's a small town in the middle of nowhere it seems. There are small, one-storey homes built closely together throughtout the town but a thick fog makes anything beyond the town all but impossible to see. What vegetation can be seen is overgrown. Debris litters the street. Everything has a very "Silent Hill" feeling or looks downright ghetto. I'm in a large vehicle (a bus, I think) driving around this fog encased town looking for something or someone. There are people on the streets and they go about their business like any small, sleepy town would. They do not seem to notice the fog, or just don't care about it.

In the middle of the dream there is this scene that seems to repeat itself over and over (or I am unconsciously doing the same exact movements over and over) but everytime it starts up again there is different "background" music. I cannot see where the music is coming from. It seems atmospheric, almost like the music was born from the very air particles that I was breathing in.

I stopped the bus and got out because I was frustrated with feeling "stuck" and tried to find my way on foot. There was some incident in the street, but I have fogotten what transpired now. At one point I wander into an alleyway behind some buildings and turn around just in time to see the bus I was previously on run down and crush some poor woman in a pink sweater and beige pants (I didn't get to see her face so I don't know she is but I think it is my mother because of how she is dressed). The bus did not stop or slow down when it hit the lady and drove right into a brick wall, compacting the front of the bus like an accordian, and I assume, killing the driver.

At first I was horrified and tried to run away from the grisly scene, but then something compelled me back. I felt sick to my stomach when I returned, especially when when I noticed a group of people and their children approaching. I tried to stop them from viewing the horror, but I woke at about that moment and remember no more of this dream.

Morning of March 27, 2007. Tuesday.



This is a “double-dream”; two dreams at the same time, which is very hard to explain to someone who has not experienced it. For me, two or more dreams at the same time always have different levels of vividness and seem to loosely relate to the variable “splash pulsing” I have always gotten in deeper meditation since earliest memory (which only occurs when using special vocal audio in the background); a bit like standing just outside the doorways of two or more rooms yet being in them at the same time or at least following the events. (“Splash pulsing” is what I call that cyclic mental sound which is variable in volume, distance, and phasing, that directly alters your level of consciousness in meditation. The best way to duplicate one aspect of it is to pull your lips in over your teeth and then quickly pull your mouth apart to make a water-drop-like sound, also described as a more subtle “popping” like a cork by some people I have talked to. Since this solely mental sound aspect has remained the same all my life under the same circumstances, I attribute it to some sort of perception of an internal biological event relative to a change in level of consciousness - I have never “mapped” it because it seems too variable - in the long run, it may just turn out to be the brain incorrectly processing and internally “echoing” environmental ambiance.)

First aligned dream:

First Part: My family and I are walking through a park, which is like a large collection of games set up like various small machines, although parts of the area seem like one large connected game or at least a set to see which ones you win, which will bring up new ones - new machines rising out of the ground, sometimes a small vehicle where you ride to another one or get to quicker than others - although it seems like there is only my family there at the time. Oddly, one vehicle seems to go “into” another at times, creating a uniform composite of the prior two as they go in different directions (usually in a V-shape).

Second Part: We go about playing the games. There are various types. There is a set of vans/trucks/buses(?) going around in a playing field on something that looks like a road map with numbers in different circles in different areas. You have to implement ideas so that they do not crash into each other while going to the circles and “tagging” them (driving over them seems to cause something else to rise in the playing field as they go down). There is also a game that looks like “Hungry Hungry Hippos” but relates to fast food and throwing stuff away (getting the food into the hippos’ mouths while somehow discarding the wrappings/containers at the same time, it seems). There is a game involving a plastic octopus, where you have to move the “tentacles” (which are like levers) to bring marbles around from entry points as the octopus moves around to the exit point (without dropping any) on opposite sides of an octagon. There are many more “machine games” including one about blue birds (on levers) dropping eggs into the right nests, but I cannot remember all of them.

Next-to-last Part: The last game we are playing is part of yet another machine. It is set up like a three-by-three grid with hollowed-out areas for marbles to sit in. There are three marbles; black, yellow, and white (although there may be marbles of other colors underneath the playing field). Around the three-by-three grid is a part where the marbles are made to “jump” by clicking some sort of button underneath. To win is to make the marbles fall in various patterns and stay (and the scoring depends on what pattens you make). There is a plastic dome over the game so that you cannot cheat by manual interference.

Ending: I win this last game by getting a diagonal row of three marbles after only about two attempts - you get three attempts (two seem to go in at the same time), and an amazingly happy-sounding musical voice (but seemingly computerized) of a young girl calls out “Won’t believe it!” not in a negative sense, but in an “I’m amazed by your skills” sense. At this point, the dream splits more incongruously into the ongoing simultaneous dreams, the “Won’t believe it!” from the computer-like voice, the “Womb Palena!” from the “Eternal Girl” in a parallel dream, and a short dream of seeing a musical device echoing very odd buzzing tones (containing fifths) from four different miniature flutes - one on each side of a square object (and creating a four-note melody), two being the same length (for the A note). The note pattern is C > A > C < A, or 1, 6, 8, 6 (using white keys only with “1” as middle C).

Second Aligned Dream:

First Part: I am walking alone through a mist and it becomes an area where a huge mansion appears. It is like the mansion and the landscape goes on in one direction forever, without any end.

Second Part: I talk to a few people matter-of-factually (cannot remember the details). I meet a girl who seems to be connected to me (but I seem aware that she is the daughter of one of the other people in this “world” or perhaps even my daughter or descendent). She is wearing some sort of white gown of an unusual texture. There is even a sense of touch and smell at the same time; what I would describe as smelling and touching human warmth using an unfamiliar composite awareness.

Next-to-last part: I get a sense of “Payame Ima” and “palena anda”, which I have since found are real terms, although I might have read about it at some point in the past (in real life), but certainly do not remember it much.

Ending: I hug her in friendship and relative to memories that seemingly span over many, many years (even though she only seems like a child at times and again - seems like an unknown relative) and get a feeling that I will return to the area many years later. Knowing that I will return to the “endless mansion” brings me great joy. Somehow I know that the girl (or archetypical entity) will not age a day even if I do not return for a thousand years (yet she already sometimes seems much older than I). The girl calls out “Womb Palena!” (which seems to mean “goodbye for now” in the most positive spiritual context possible) and waves. Her voice seemingly holds a lot of power and love. I walk for a bit and seem to return to the “real” world (though not yet awake). I look behind me and am aware that the “other world” is going “out of alignment” with the present one I am in (almost like an implied virtual orbit), and feel like I am renewed, even “reborn” somehow (yet feeling really really old in terms of my years of life).

Morning of March 19, 2007. Monday.



In this dream, I am in a public area, and in a different country. It seems it may be the northern area of Syria. A lot of people are around. For some reason, Sam Neill, the actor, is there. He has a large boat to help people escape from the coming war. There is also a girl (from Tel Aviv?) with him. She is wearing a Star of David patch on her dress or blouse, but is told to take the symbol off, as she will not be safe in any part of the world with any group of people (during the war) if she keeps it. I believe she takes off the patch and puts it in a pocket or wraps it in a scarf. There is also a teenage male on the boat, but he plays such a small role, I am hardly ever aware of him.

A Syrian man (about forty years old) approaches me. He asks me where I am living, and for some reason, I state that I am living on the Saudi Arabia / Iraq border, which seems quiet and suitable in my dream, curiously enough. He informs me that he will go and get a gun for me to help protect myself as I am leaving the country. I wait outside and overhear him say something about me being gullible in my belief that he would do this, but the word is not “gullible”, it is something else I am not sure of, a short word which seems to express a few ideas at once, something to do with word play on “assaulting” (assaultin’) and “sultan”, I think. There is a point at which a large cloud of black smoke rises in the distance.

I later see a large television on display to the public and the news is on, showing scenes of smoking, damaged buildings with text (lower on the screen) “Beginning: World War III”. However, the news announcers seem very calm. I decide to go on the boat to “escape”. There are only very few people on the boat with Sam Neill as captain.

The “logic” of my dream makes absolutely no sense with regard to travel. The large boat is able to travel over land and even through buildings. In fact, somehow, during a couple similar or “reset” scenes, we even manage to get through a narrow checkout in what seems to be a small grocery store in Australia. At times, we are on water, but there is supposedly no flood to justify how the boat goes through different buildings to different countries or travels as it does.

We knock aside some military vehicles, one being a colorful semitrailer truck. It is not clear to me who is doing the most fighting or even what the war is about. It just seems that every country is at war with every other country and even different armies of certain countries are against each other.

We go into a whirlpool and we go down through a subterranean system of rivers, which are almost perfectly round. There is some concern that we will reach a dead-end and not be able to go back. At one point, we go through a palace in India where I notice intense-appearing women that gaze at us suspiciously - and the boat even goes down the front flight of stairs before going back into a larger body of water.

Finally, we end up in an area in which I am trying to work out if we are just west or east of Canada. It seems more like it is near Alaska, on the west side of Canada. There is a smaller cylindrical iceberg in the water, which is where I will be living until the war is over. The area is peaceful and beautiful. I expect to see airplanes or smoke along the horizon, but everything is clear and blue here.

Morning of March 5, 2007. Monday.



This entry has been painstakingly edited back to its original form, date, and full personal detail. The original title was “The Safe House (TV Show?)”.

The first part of my dream relates to some sort of fictional so-called reality show (apparently similar to “Big Brother” which I have never watched) called “The Safe House” - where random arguments are filmed on the streets. The concept involves giving people an opportunity to be “safe” by coming to the house to get away from any sort of trouble. There is one scene (on a television screen) where random things go flying across the camera’s view, including an empty baby stroller - and there is an extraordinarily loud level of screaming and pots and pans rattling and flying across the camera view along with other objects, almost like a cartoon-like cacophony. It is all the result of a young Jamaican woman (she has about three children) having a fight with her American husband near a busy street. Apparently, he keeps doing the opposite of what she wants (when she has to go shopping and such) going in a different direction and so on. I mostly only hear the fight and not actually see much, other than the objects being thrown into the street followed by lots of clattering noises. I keep thinking that one of them will probably come to the safe house (where I seem to be), but this does not occur.

There is a later point near dusk when an Archie Bunker lookalike yells out the window and someone yells back at him.

There is then a gangster looking for someone and he wants to check the safe house, seemingly with the likelihood that the other person or persons will be shot or captured. They do not find anyone, though. (Actually, it seems that they just walk around outside without coming in.)

Other events unfold; nothing significant. I decide to check up on the people who have come into my “safe house” and find no one (though I believe my family is home).

Later, it is nighttime and the “reality show” is seemingly over (or in a different “mode”). I go to my front porch and notice two males seemingly about to visit us. They are standing near the steps but had not yet come to the front door. They appear to be hesitant about the nature of our house as if it does not meet with their approval. I am semi-lucid but not sure how to react. I wait for something to happen for the most part. I notice a few shooting stars in the distance. I am aware that parts of the rain gutter are a bit rusty, with a couple pieces even flaking off. It mostly appears to be the house from Stadcor Street, though with features from more recent places we have lived.

A somewhat wealthy-looking effeminate male (about thirty) and another man (who is a bit taller and on his right) are standing outside near the front windows. The taller man seems hesitant to come in even though he seems to really want to get away from his partner. It seems that he cannot meet or openly talk to anyone else because of this man because of some “automatic criticism” he implements all the time. He wants to get rid of him so that he can go to some sort of party on his own.

I ask a few questions (cannot remember exactly what they were) and the shorter male seems to get more annoyed with each question, although I try rewording them. I do not like his snobby attitude, but I do not want to annoy him either (something to do with the ratings of the show). They remind me somewhat of the landlords we had in Brisbane who were in a relationship and were also counselors for male couples in the region but one signed away the house behind the other’s back. We were told we would have to move, so we packed up, then unpacked later when the other claimed the house had not been sold, but then had to pack up again when we found out it had been sold, so they were not honest with each other about the property.

He starts complaining about hurting his feet because the front stairs have some sort of hard metal supporting them below the bottom step. He looks at me as if he is very annoyed with my general appearance (especially my hair) as well as the house (yet also seems to be commenting on the state of the roof of our house) and in an insulting snobbish manner (yet with a dramatic pause), says “You have fondue rust." The other male says nothing. (For some reason, I have an in-dream faux memory of "fondue” being spelled as “fondage”.)

I can understand “rust” relating to the Echo and the Bunnymen song (which I listened to quite often during this time - it even has a line about the shooting stars), but the phrase itself seems enigmatic. Perhaps he is commenting also on the portable stove on the porch (which is also a bit old and rusty in my dream), which is unsuitable for a get-together or community party. However, it actually seems that this “fondue rust” is a bit of rust on the safe house (on the roof and outside walls) which sticks to people more than regular rust and is hard to get off. He says this to me with strong disbelief - that he cannot understand why anyone would be in a house that has this problem. It still also seems to mean dandruff at one level.

I start making a joke out of some other things he says with an “I cannot believe you are serious” attitude, saying that this is too ridiculous to be of much use to my life, and that it sounds like some sort of bad comedy script, and I start laughing, and at that moment, I hear the laughter of a large number of people who had apparently been standing around watching the “show” (who just seemed to appear out of nowhere when I made the statement). It seemed rather intense, eerie, and yet nice, to hear myself laugh, then all of a sudden, the laughter of many others immediately manifesting. I grow more and more lucid, but there is an unusual sense of time slowing down.

As I wake up, I hear part of the theme song of the show, which sounds like a sort of chorus-like yodel (with an almost dwarfish vocal sound), with the melody as follows (assuming C starts as 1 and continues on the white keys):

2, 2, 2, 7, 6…1, 1, 1, 6, 5

The 2nd note in each phrase is slightly faster, giving it a bouncy feel, and the last note in each phrase slightly longer. (I may update this with sheet music format later.)

Song link: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/echot...ymen/rust.html

Morning of March 4, 2007. Sunday.

Dream #: 14,685-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



I am with my youngest son at a grocery store, which seems like the store closest to where we live, to the north, but perpendicular to how it is in real life. It is possible that the rest of my family is there and shopping in another part of the store.

There is an unknown woman whom I think works there. She is pretty and about thirty. It first seems as if she may be Italian, but she has a South American appearance as well. Her skin is slightly dark, and she seems to have an elaborate headpiece with bells or little silver balls on it. Later, I am unsure if she is a worker or someone who came into the store to talk to us. She reminds me slightly of a gypsy and also of my wife.

She thinks my son is either carrying or is in contact with the spirit of her grandfather in addition to another. She wants to ask my son a question. She whispers it in his left ear (something that I would never agree to in real life and it even feels wrong in my dream at first). She seems to be performing a ritual, mostly only a chant-like acknowledgment of my son’s “powers.” I feel a bit uneasy and unsure of what is going on. It almost seems I am only there to take my son back home so that he will not get lost.

I bow to have my son speak a name in my left ear rather loudly and clearly, but still somewhat like a whisper, but also seemingly meant to reassure me.

The name is “Akna.” (Is that the mysterious woman’s name?)

“Akna” does not sound familiar. A few thoughts go through my head. Acne? What is the word? Akna. Why Akna? Is it the last name of an unknown family member? I wake up, somewhat annoyed, as my dream did not seem to make sense regardless of how vivid it became.

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In Inuit mythology, Akna (“mother”) is a goddess of fertility and childbirth.

Akna is also the name of a goddess of motherhood and birthing in Maya mythology.

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My wife had a baby recently and needed to have a C-Section. I certainly do not remember reading or hearing about “Akna,” though.

Zsuzsanna told me our son had been doing some unusual songlike chanting before going to sleep, with a lot of m, n, and k sounds. My dream date matches the date circled in my her journal (though I had not seen it) about when she thought she would have our new baby (though it was earlier by C-section). Zsuzsanna has a theory that my dream is a result of her regret over not having her baby at the “right” time, but I have no regret and am glad she got through it. At this point, I also am wondering if it was our baby son implied as older in my dream, or our next-youngest son, although I think it was our next-youngest.

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Original dream dated Feb. 23rd, 2007:

I dreamed I turned into a man who was coal black on one side and snow white on the other. I was trying to give a reading of a poem for class, but one side of my body took over and the poem came out completely wrong. The side that took over was the side that was capable of being ONLY completely literal and rational. My professor gave me an F.
I was angry, so I decided to go harass her. I went over to her house and found out that she had a side-business dry-cleaning underwear, but for some reason all of the underwear was red and made of wool.
She was still sleeping, so I decided to freak her out by taking a shower. She had some Fructis shampoo that I liked a lot. At one point, she woke up and argued with me because she needed to get into the bathroom.

Morning of February 13, 2007. Tuesday.



I believe this takes place in Nimbin, Australia, though I am not entirely sure.

My family moves there into a building that is like our present home (in Queensland) in basic design relative to rooms, location, and such, but closer to the ground and more modern than our present house. Later on, my dream seems to be somewhat “movie-like” and becomes fairly impersonal.

Some weird animal bones are discovered. There is some concern over what they may mean. Eventually, people with special skills become part of the plot.

A cage is discovered in a secret (hidden) room of the typical “behind the rotating bookcase” variety. This cage has several giant guinea pigs. The giant guinea pigs seem to be the result of an experiment that went wrong and so was hidden away. An unknown woman (possibly Pauline Hanson) comes onto the scene and announces that these creatures should be destroyed, so she sets fire to the cage after throwing some sort of chemicals on it, to kill them. All of a sudden the creatures actually speak for the first time, and it turns out that they were people (all likely from Nimbin) who were turned into guinea pigs. They are angry with the woman as if she was supposed to know that they were people at one time. It seems that they were annoyed with being turned into guinea pigs, but had never talked before because there had not been any danger for them until then.

My dream ends with unusual part-guinea pig, part-human creatures walking around (The guinea pig aspect is then more relative to the hair color than anything else, most hair being multicolored). However, in the end, they mostly only look like Nimbin hippies in overall appearance with no animal-like features then. One of them is to be interviewed, but he spends so much time twirling his hair and “blanking out” that the reporter gives up trying to do an interview. This one has very long sideburns down to his shoulders, which are cream, white, and a sort of dark red-orange, like the color of certain guinea pigs I have seen in the past.

This dream may have something to do with hearing Nimbin being called “an experiment” and may relate to my wife’s negative experiences growing up there. (I have never lived or been there). Also, my wife’s mother had a very large number of guinea pigs at one time (many unhealthy because of her having too many in one area), which my wife mostly had to take care of when no one else did.

This is one of those long, detailed, epic-like dreams that my subconscious seems to produce every now and then.


The dream takes place in a post-apocalypic world where small populations of people often battle each other over limited resources. Technology has been reduced to horse-drawn carriages and flint-lock pistols. There is a man who lives away from the fighting and he works in a forge underneath a damaged bridge by a wide river. The Swordmaster, as he is called, made swords (duh!) and armour. He had a reputation of being a ruthless fighter and a loner, and had no known friends or relatives. He sold his creations to whomever could pay, choosing not to take sides in the frequent battles.

The dream starts with a young girl (about eight years old?), with black hair and green eyes, wandering into his forge (I think her name was Jeyna, or something like that). The Swordmaster tries to scare her away, but she seems unafraid of him and interested in the swords that are on display. I cannot recall the conversation they had, but the Swordmaster eventually bribes her into leaving by giving her a delicately crafted knife for free. The dream takes on a kind of montage effect and shows Jeyna returning in secret several times to watch the swordmaker at work with great fascination.

The dream skips a few years. Jeyna flees to the forge because her hometown has been destroyed and with nowhere else to go, she begs the Swordmaster to take her in and teach her how to make swords. He challenges her to a deal and though she is able to deflect a few blows, Jeyna is utterly outmatched by the Swordmaster. However, he is impressed with her skill and determination and agrees to take her on as an apprentice, but warns of his sudden moods and ill temper. Between teaching her how to use the forge, the Swordmaster also teaches Jeyna some swordfighting skills.

The dream skips a few more years to when Jeyna is a young woman. Despite his cold, emotionless demenor, the Swordmaster has grown quite attatched to Jeyna and become very protective of her, though he tries not to show it. While working in the forge one day, and while the Swordmaster is out, the forge is raided by bandits looking for supplies. Jeyna tries to defend the place but the bandits are armed with long-range weapons like bows and spears and she is captured. The bandits are about to kill Jeyna when a group of soldiers on horseback and wielding flintlock guns and rifles show up and chase the bandits away. The captain of the soldiers tries to recruit Jeyna, telling her of how much of the population has come together to live in peace, but says that she can only join if she can use a gun. The soldiers then ride off in pursuit of the bandits.

After the soldiers leave and the Swordmaster returns and Jeyna has filled him in on what happened, the Swordmaster gives his apprentice directions to a trustworthy and neutral gunsmith that lives a few kilometres south of the forge. Before she leaves, the Swordmaster gives to Jeyna his strongest and most cherished sword. It is a rapier with a white and gold handle and the Swordmaster says that the sword is the best made in the world. Though curious as to why he is passing on the sword to her, Jeyna takes it without question and sets out across no-man's land alone.

The Gunsmith's shop is unmarked and located right between two colonies of people that often fight each other and Jeyna has to find it without being seen or caught. When she does find the place, the Gunsmith, a fat, bald man with a thick curling mustach, scoffs at her request for a gun. He claims that she cannot afford his creations and that he only shares his weaponry with soldiers, not children. Jeyna tries everything from threatening him to begging and the Gunsmith just gruffly laughs at all of her attempts. Finally, Jeyna gives up and goes outside, loudly cursing the Swordmaster under her breath. As she starts to walk away, the Gunsmith runs (or waddles, being fat) outside and chides her for not mentioning the Swordmaster before, as they are old friends. The Gunsmith gives Jeyna his best weapon for free and tells her that she is welcome back anytime to learn how to use the weapon. He also says that she and the Swordmaster to come and visit some time.

When Jeyna returns to the forge, the hour is very late and the Swordmaster is no where to be found. It is only after a couple of days that Jeyna becomes worried, though she is afraid to leave to forge unguarded. Jeyna continues to work the forge until she runs out of resources, which the Swordmaster had always provided before. Only when all of the goods had been sold and there was nothing left of value in the forge or shop, did Jeyna contemplate leaving. She was torn between searching for the Swordmaster, or trying to find the group of soldiers who had tried to recruit her. The Gunsmith suddenly shows up for a visit and while he can provide her with the location of the soldiers, he has no idea where the Swordmaster would be.

The dream gets fuzzy here. There is something about Jeyna searching along the riverbank and running into some of the bandits who raided the forge before. They are unarmed and with their children, bathing and washing their clothes at the water's egde. There is a lengthy conversation about something before Jeyna leaves and returns to the forge. As she is going back she sees two people fighing in the wasteland in the distance and when she gets closer it turns out to be the Swordmaster and the Gunsmith. They are in hand to hand combat and both are battered and bruised. Jeyna runs between the two and tries to seperate them, but the Swordmaster pulls her sword from it's scabbard and violently cuts down the Gunsmith. Jeyna stands in shocked silence while the Swordmaster wipes the sword clean and walks away from the bloody scene. He does not return to the forge and disappears again.

Jeyna does not return to the forge and goes to join the soldiers instead. The dream becomes fuzzy and I cannot remember any more.

In the dream I appeared as I looked at about age 11 or 12. I was with my mom and dad and we were in our old 1986 Volkswagen Westfalia. We were driving down an urban street that was lined with old Victorian and Edwardian style buildings, as well as many trees. In the dream, this was supposed to be our hometown of London, Ontario, but the areas we travelled through looked nothing like any area of London that I recognize. I don't remember many of the buildings, but one stuck in my memory for some reason. It was a three story bulding made of dark grey bricks and a black tile roof. The front door was a dark red and there were vines growing up the entire front side. This building sat opposite of a three-way intersection and I recall noticing it the first time my parents and I drove past it because my dad had to make a left turn. Though it had a unique and vaguely farmiliar look in my dream, I cannot recognize it as anything I know in waking life.

My parents and I drove out into the country, though it did not look like the country surrounding my hometown (as I know it in waking life, anyway). We drove for a long time and came to a thicket of trees which seemed to have a picnic area in the middle. My dad drove the van towards the picnic tables but the westfalia got stuck in some mud that we had not noticed before. My parents got out of the van and walked towards the picnic tables and it was then that I noticed an old man in a blue uniform. He looked like a thin Captain Highliner. I walked amongst the trees while my parents talked to the captain. I found a little stream and noticed something moving in the water, but my mom called me back to the van before I could get a look at what it was. As we drove out of the grove (and almost got stuck in the mud again) I watched the old man walk towards the little stream with a blank expression on his face. He waded into the stream before the van turned onto the road and I could no longer see him.

We drove for miles again, past farmland and forests. I noticed that we travelled fairly far without seeing a single building. Soon though, my parents spotted group of white houses and they wanted to go check them out. Parking the westfalia behind one of the houses my mom and dad got out of the van and started snooping around. I was afraid of being caught doing something illegal so I stayed in the van. When my parents had not returned for a long time, I got out of the van and went to look for them. From the window of one of the white houses I could see someone looking at me and I was afraid that they were going to call the police on me for tresspassing. I started back to the van but I suddenly heard a group of people laughing and carrying on. Following the noise I came across my mom and dad and some strangers on the front balcony of one of the houses, opening champagne bottles and having some sort of celebration. The old man in the blue uniform was there as well. Apparently it was his house and he had just won it in a sweepstakes or something (and that is why everyone was celebrating?).

My parents had one glass of champagne before returning to the van and heading home. The trip home didn't seem nearly as long as the trip out there, and I don't recall seeing the picnic grove on the way back. When we returned to London, it again was the strange London with all of the Victorian and Edwardian building. When we came to the three-way interesection and my dad turned, I watched the vaguely farmiliar dark grey, three story bulding grow smaller and smaller in the rear view window. When we were some distance away I saw the dark red door swing open, but I woke up before I could see what was behind it.

I dreamed that I was sleeping on my bed. I woke up in the dream and saw that there was a small rectangular mirror beside me. I picked it up and tilted it towards me but intead of my reflection, there was a reversed image of a transparent male figure. I knew immediately that it was a ghost and it startled me because it looked like the figure was hanging over me and about to strike or grab me or something. It freaked me out so much that I woke up for real!


This is not the first time I had a dream like this. In late November or early December (2006), I had a dream where I was laying on my stomach on my bed and a male, bearded ghost walked into my room and placed his hand on my right shoulder. That too startled me into consciousness. I had forgotten about that dream until now because I had not written it down at the time.

Freaky!