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A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Printable Version +- tapatalk (https://tapatalk.sorcerytime.com) +-- Forum: ALL (https://tapatalk.sorcerytime.com/forum-4.html) +--- Forum: Art of Dreaming (https://tapatalk.sorcerytime.com/forum-21.html) +--- Thread: A thread for some of my archived dreams. (/thread-20441.html) |
A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-04-2011 yea same 35 lol. If...then. hehe. Ill find things like this... http://www.youtube.com/wa...MQzU&feature=related and http://www.youtube.com/wa...t_pA&feature=related and there is no way to really talk about it so ehh. Let alone explination just looks of distaste. A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-05-2011 For me if i could boil it all down, two of the points that seem most telling are: 1. Be Not Afraid http://www.youtube.com/wa...bOig&feature=related 2. Dare to be Stupid. http://www.youtube.com/wa...=SMhwddNQSWQ&ob=av3e I ah got the second one down, first one not so much, although the two are hand and foot/same thing really so to speak. hehe I do wish i could find a more metal soundtrack for that one, but contrast has a certain humor i suppose. Edit: I knew id find something for #1 lol. http://www.youtube.com/wa...7k5A&feature=related A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-05-2011 So last night I had trouble getting to sleep. I could feel my skin shimmering radiating heat and i decide d it was too hot, so i turned don AC and stayed out of the sheets and felt the cold settling as i cooled then got back in bed and was able to fall asleep by 5am. I?ve been having lots of dreams but not remembering them, but i remembered some last night after that. In the first one, i was stuck with or caught by some low grade criminals. Like looters. They had found a catch of old stolen loot from 60 years before that had been stolen and buried in the subbasement of the bank that was robbed since they couldn?t get it out in the past. In current dream times there was a 1950's high school built over where the old bank used to be. they weren?t mean but i was caught and having to play my part in their plot. there was a pressing machine that was inoperative and the only way into t he abandoned sub basement was to swing through it. It was libel to stamp down. I did it but they couldn?t follow easily. There were many more traps and doorways to pass, and they couldn?t follow. once i was in, i was able to shift focus, and time shifted with it, and loose the criminals. So i did and they were pissed and thwarted. Gone. So i was in a subbasement. Now the old high school was full of kids playing above, and the colors were more sienna like a flashback. Instead of traps there was an old access door tot he bomb shelter the subbasement was incorporated into. Since i was there, i started chipping at the concrete looking at it was chalky too much lime or calcium. bubbly it was a quick poor and mixed with ash from the presses and stuff from the bank/mint. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV0wPBYDQ6Y Soon enough i had the concrete cap up and was pulling out the loot. there were bars of gold that were large, and bent in a V shape like a funky bicycle handlebar. there were at least 4 of those. There were bundles of old bills, and old silver and gold backed dollars, and regular currency. there was a large amount of junk gold and gems...piece left over from the initial robbery, they broke out gems and smaller bits when they robbed....weren?t many coins just some silver and small gold ones mixed din the initial robbers missed din their hast. They just dumped everything in a hole and sealed it. As i worked on the loot pile, and pulling pieces form the dirt, I had no idea where it was going. I didn?t feel the urge to take it, it wasn?t mine. but the robbery wasn?t even in this dimension, had no idea who to trust with it who the authorities were to hand it off too. Besides, i knew the criminals were bound to the objects, and if they found me with it would be bad. Without it they could never find me again. And one of the pieces they were really expending great effort to recover so something in that pile was ore important then the rest. So thing s I felt that didn?t have hidden meaning i threw in another pile. While i was working, and looking out the narrow window at the schoolyard and hoping the janitor didn?t come There was an older lady from the antique store who came down and was watching me. Her name was and she was my friend. she was like 50, and back to work because her husband and her had bought a nursery then wall mart etc and they weren?t good at business they took out multiple mortgages so she was working there to help keep above water and failing. she was there watching me. I saw her and she asked what it all was etc. I explained a bit then offered her the gold from the second pile to pay off her bills it should be bought for that, the safe pieces. She said no...it was gotten through crime, and the crime taints it she couldn?t use it. I thought the bills would work for some reason but no. So i really didn?t know what to do with it then. I also got a bit resentful. if she felt that way then how about me? fingering the loot and offering it. but i swallowed that. then she was gone. So i left the piles there on the floor of the high school for fate to do what it will with it, and that dream sequence was done. The next part i remembered was moving between he homes we live din with my parents. At some point, my dad dropped me off or i walked down tot he main street. I had on no shoes and i felt exposed, i was wearing my worst clothes and had the nastiest hair and unkempt beard as it can get sometimes. And down on the corner were teenage girls getting ready for prom all dressed dup, and dudes. I saw them laughing and pointing, and i felt so embarrassed. so i tromped off in my bare feet into the field were the homeless people drink their liquor from the liquor store...were one there when i did. I felt so light and ashamed, that i leaped in the air as if to jump away. when i did though, i floated din slow motion pose back tot he ground So i ran ad high jumped into he air, and i struck a Hercules pose. i was much bigger and more marshmallow then i am rl, and every inch of it showed through the shorts and old t shirt i had on. So i looked ridiculous. And again, i floated like i was one the moon in a graceless graceful straight line glide. i couldn?t fly, but i could drift and fly like a paper airplane. lol. Now this was funny. I still felt bad, but i do what i always do, i made it into a self depreciating exaggerated joke. I went to the teen sand announced i was the new super hero athlete, and amazed them as i broke the long jump record whilst eating a hamburger i found on the ground so nasty. by amaze d I mean they were lol wtf? hehe. so this was a new shtick. I gave interviews to the local news, who happened to show up. I boastfully and full of lol declare d myself a cross between superman and batman, batman cause he?s got the bling and gadgets, superman cause i was damn powerful as i flexed my flabby arms, and i also declare d I was part P.diddy, cause im all about the bling bling bling and getting paid yo! Everyone was lol wtf. cause i did have a super power kind of, but i spoke with such authority and perfect super hero speak voice, from a homeless mans funky face?!/ I called my self Super bling bat daddy or something. I never tired of giving y speech. to bag ladies, to stray dogs, and old ladies at the bus stop or the president. Awesome! I had my other old power still. I could see real events and criminals. there was a shark lady from the deep, who was real evil. a gaggle of them like sea hags. and a few on the outer circle who seemed just like villainesses on the wrong path. I observed an interaction. Once was a big earth witch, who looked kind of like me. She was pulled out of the ground in some islands under a grey sea, to bring a part of the really evil sea hags plot to fruition. She brought it and thought she was in the gang, but the shark/octopus witch was so evil, she started consuming the other one. She held her bloated corpse face with a tentacle, and called her her wife, and the one from beneath the cliffs dead eyes got wide with fear, and the other villains looked uncomfortable, and the human ones on the edges looked a bit sick. These weren?t really savable spirits, maybe the one son the outside but too much work. I was a camera for the action here, as usual. A bit off time had passed, and i had a bed sheet cape now and was just wearing some fat persons shorts and barefoot. my fat belly was smeared with blue sun block just looked even more ridiculous. and my speech was even more super hero in contrast. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_ZUSQQdoS4 Again i saw the shark demon villains plot, and it was farther along, and her circle smaller....she had eaten the other plotters or the ones that were closest to her. And the ones who were wary on the outer one looked more human, and more conflicted. At this point i saw the tipping point where the plot unravels due to personality conflict, but that was when the outer human circle meet the now grotesque inner power...some time still. this time she could see me and once she focused her silted eyes, i materialized. and she hissed evil sea breath stank like the beach after a fish die off. As those monsters got ready to attack, i said halt evil doers! I ran heroic pose floated tot he center of the gathering and talked the center one down when i did it. as corny as i could muster. And they stopped looking wtf like the teens it was so ridiculous. And i boldly strode forward, my ragged bed sheet cape behind me, and painted blue belly, and fat short costume, ad struck my finger up pose for justice, and just started speaking. the corniest, most charismatic, nonsensical distillation of a thousand comic books and super hero movies. It mesmerized the villains. When i was done, the center evil looked transfixed then shock her face appendage like a dog and said "I love your words, but i haaate you!" and moved to attack. But she hadn?t noticed while i was speaking i was already gone, and all she struck was the memory of my form, which the words had replaced for my long gone self. cya! I noticed the outer human circle was more uneasy with the progression, and saw the seeds of disharmony fully blooming. when the circle drew tighter, those relatively white (in comparison people) could turn themselves sin for mild punishments and escape the center witch. i did something to ease that along. I knew how this would end. the center evil would have to bind them as they were, not consume them, and this would dorm an energy eye but such an eye, pulled together with fear is unstable. there needs to be a band to bind them, and there were flaws in that now and a little pressure it would fly apart. After i w as back, more time passed, and the real batman wanted me to meet him. so i ran to the local newspaper and told the story, but in the corniest way i could, and announce dif be partnering with THE batman next, and i was going to get a 50% cut of the merchandise rights etc. (there were none it was my gag). When batman summoned me, he was unamused amused like batman looks. so serious! He mentioned dot me my powers were flimsy against top tier villains and i was lucky i got out of there. he couldn?t believe it, it was pore unlikely luck in his bat eyes. All and still, he wanted me to help him investigate the site in the Shetland islands the one the shark thing ate first came from. Groovy justice boogie! i proclaimed with all due seriousness. So batman and i went to the Shetlands. The whole time he was stoic, but i had the feeling he didn?t know if her was annoyed or wanted to laugh out loud like he never does. He had bat gizmos, nanotech probes, an AI eye pod that could glean everything seen in a spot, news reports, police reports, birds flying overhead for clues at once. and he?d watch that. i was suppose dot watch but i got bored. So i walked away on the cliffs. I saw the village as a living model by the sea. on one side there was a bluff, and from it was quarried the stone first for the pict monoliths at one side of the village, and later by the Norse etc. Under the quarry (i thought in time, as ruins aren?t under solid stone was the Norse level. this is where i focused. i walked the cliffs looking over at the village. on the far end of the small island, in a little valley by a steel grey bay under the cloudy cold sky. As i walked, i noticed a human tooth, and then a bit of bone, here stone carved with a rune. I reached down to touch the model world, and pulled up a boulder. I studied it then broke it. It was like foam inside. like a bone that?s weathered and full of holes. this from a stone from the "Norse layer" I noted it looked like the concrete in the subbasement. hollow and rotten inside. minerals leached and dissolved. but hidden and unseen. I got bored picking up rocks and noting the seagulls so i went back to batman. he was just finishing his data culling. I announced the rocks were hollow. He said "i know. If you had watched the data you would have known that". but then i produced the pebble...which was now a boulder larger then me. He looked surprised and how did he carry that...but looked carefully. In the bubble rot pattern, he saw something critical the data didn?t turn up. and he saw what i saw with his technique. then looked like Ah hah! no more admonishment. but that was it. i wasn?t going farther as his partner. he had what he needed dot act. and he left, and i faded form the dream, i had some satisfaction, super batman p.diddiy, that the villains were already defeated. batman and superman didn?t know, but they were the pressure that would undue the plot, but the plot was already undone. made weak to them. And that, that was due to the awesome epic pose flying power and underpants cape of the most ridiculous "hero". me lol. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2l3a7lsEgFM A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-06-2011 > Well the dream started out ordinarily enough. My reading and watching other dreams in my dream home with normal sort of interactions mirroring my normal life. As seems to happen, if I pay too close attention the screen dissolves in some way and I am seamlessly in what before was a book or image on a screen. My awareness, senses, memory is now specific to the place or scenario. What drew me in were shipping docks and factories along an ocean or river. these were familiar structures, the age now would put them as having been built before for during world war 2. I’ve been in them many times in different dreams. This time, they were mostly abandoned and decaying, fenced off. Concrete was sold, windows missing in the upper rafters etc. Before any other action happened, I remembered battles there, stuff being built form other dreams, in the past or a different version. I looked doff shore at a modern aircraft carrier and battle group, with aircraft etc. It seemed more EXPENSIVE and modern then what the infrastructure could support. A national navy, that was out of proportion tot he wealth and needs of the nation in question. But it became clear this fleet belonged to a single man, who was upgrading and maintaining it out of personal wealth, and deploying it in the roll of old world navies. Not specifically to make war, there was no war to fight, but incase there may be in he future. But mostly, the real reason was, he LIKED ships and jets, and could easily maintain them so the reason for it was kind of secondary. He liked improving and tinkering as his hobby was the truth of it. I went inside the multistory factory along the docks. most of the equipment was long gone. there was some piece that was seeing usage. But rather then the complex tooling it had once been, there was a net, and a long cable with a string of hooks. I touched and disassembled the storage of the hook and net packaging. I could feel it was used for deepwater fishing, for giant squid, by a boat of Chinese fishermen. That was the extent of the use of the large complex, the fleet offshore was maintained in other ways and constructed. More from will. I had trouble putting the hook back onto the net as it was stowed, the fishermen would know someone was messing with it. But I shrugged a the puzzle. So what they would put it back together correctly. I looked around and got allot of technical information about what was built there before. that building assembled spitfires from world war two. Other buildings put together tanks etc that were offloaded sent into combat directly. down the road. the specific information as pintle engines. Pintle injectors, with a diagram of the concept. It was noted that current usage of the engines was in spacex rockets which seemed odd. > > A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Nagual LoneWolf - 11-06-2011 Just a note to EnergyLover, Barefoot, Sacateca: Your posts were removed as they were not in any way relevant to this thread. Sorry but please make a new thread concerning your topic of Tom and Sustained Reaction. Songbird your post was removed too but I think you would approve based on its comment. Senear was asked by me to create this thread and share his marvelous tales with the members here. A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-06-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ienPq8iRKmk Running with the wolf pack Feel like I'm never coming back And everytime there's sunshine I'm blind, yeah I am everybody And everyone that I know is me Everyone that I know won't see I could have been a dreamer I could have been a shooting star I could have been a dreamer, yeah I'm another number And you know the numbers must agree But everytime the wind blows I can't fly - why? We take away tomorrow And never see the end of today Lock it up and send it away - forever I could have been a dreamer I could have been a shooting star I could have been a dreamer Cause dreams are what we are I could have been a dreamer Running with the wolf pack Feel like I'm never coming back But maybe that was sunshine That I saw I've heard about a rainbow I've heard it makes you crazy I think I'm goin' crazy Crazy cause I see I could have been a dreamer I could have been a shooting star I could have been a dreamer Cause dreams are what we are I could have been a dreamer I could have been the one to fly I always could have been a dreamer Cause dreamers never die, no! I could have been a dreamer Dreamer I could have been a dreamer Dreamer I could have been a dreamer Dreamer I could have been a dreamer A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-06-2011 > > The first one im going to tell is more then a month old....less then a week after the "temple of the dooms? of the forgotten god" one. I found myself in a grand amusement park with my brother and other family members. As I looked around, each of the rides was a dream/challenge or a representation of some peril ive faced in my life. The haunted house id see as a child and again in the last year, where the dead would be howling in their rooms. But now it was more like the Disneyland haunted house. I could appreciate it. Roller coasters, gift shops...each of them had meaning. I had a set of nice luggage. Every one of these rides id take something meaningful to me. So a ride that was about my fear as a child, I took the teddy bear my father gave me that was his as a child. From the haunted house a wind up clock. A different object from each one. I packed these neatly into the bags, until they were full. One of the things I find is the stone tablet I told you about. The one I broke and danced over the traps. Its here, in pieces still and crumbly. This time im trying to keep the damn thing together and am looking at the writing. Somehow I put it in a pile of papers...my sloppy notes from another dream I told you about? And forget it. A light rain started falling, at the end of one of the gift shop streets was an electronics store with an open mesh screen ceiling. I was a bit worried for the devices, but the attendant, didn?t seem concerned. He was a very thin, very "ghetto" black guy. Crack thin. I took this in, but just smiled didn?t recoil. He made a comment and smiled, and I smiled too. But it was time to go. We pulled the luggage into a plush red velvet and brass (art deco) waiting room. The whole room was an elevator. Attendants in uniforms (again period art deco 20's uniforms...a big white guy and black guy)) with wary eyes closed the doors, and it moved. I turned my back on the baggage. When the room stopped and the doors opened, I went back for it. It was gone! I got desperate. My family left with the crowd, but I turned back. I confronted the attendants. They just smiled cruelly. "Sir if you don?t calm down we will have to restrain you". They just wanted to kick my ass. I take the room back out to the now empty amusement park, shutting down. I wander looking for my bags. I wander back to the amusement shop and the crack head. He sees im upset, and he asks very gently "Is this one of your bags?" He pulls out the smallest of the bags and opens it for me too look. In it is the teddy bear on some folded T-shirts. I feel relief but confusion. Why did they take it? I ask. He points at a symbol on the clasp. It is a symbol I have been seeing in my eyes when I close them. An oval with twin lines bisecting it, outside and turning at an angle towards the center. He asks "where did you find the luggage?" And I think...I just found it and used it. "The symbol is the symbol of the master, the teacher" "When full, the pieces go out to those who can learn from the experiences or use the objects". He hugs the ratty old bear to his chest and smiles. And I smile. I feel so good. That I was able to share and help. Im glad he has my bear to help him, I realize allot. about the process of collecting it all, then giving it away. Allot more then I can communicate in words. I had completed a holy task. The crack head said so lol. I mentioned to him "somebody better tell the guards, they were going to beat me". I really want to rub their face in it. lol. I wander back to the room and there is a figure in Tibetan or at least yellow or saffron robes. I smile and then im out, with just my sloppy loose leaf notes in a pile clutched in my hand. Right after this, I am in a ceremony. Im not the center of it. I am part of the honor guard (like the Vatican Swiss guard) in position around the room. The uniform is a cross between Napoleonic and Spartan (lol). So allot of my pale thigh is showing because its just a little puff around the waste and high boots. I think about how ugly I look...its showing all of my (exaggerated like a low self esteem characterture in the dream) roly-poly physique. How silly I must look, a fat bald guy (im not bald yet lol) who is too short whilst the other guards/knights look like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I laugh about it but nobody is looking at me like that. They aren?t even looking...im part of the ceremony, and nobody is looking at my man boobs through the silk shirt. hehe Im just focused on not slouching. I keep wanting to shift around but im making myself stand straight despite my natural poor posture. Somehow I make it. That same Teacher figure, conducting the class smiles. at us all. He?s fine but its not about him either. So im out of that area. I take a bus. It drops me off in a historic Colorado mining town that looks like it Was an attraction, but is back to a little shabby. I step off the bus, onto a busy sidewalk. All the cars look kind of worn and cheap, the people have the "lower middle class" trying to not be poor vibe. Road pavement is cracked. But not dirty or dangerous. I look a round, look at the sky, look up and down the main street trying to figure where I am and why the hell im here. And something blindsides me and knocks me to the pavement. A man stands over me with a drawn, ornate Gun with a laser sight. He quickly points it at my chest and fires. No words, no anything. Just knocks me down and shoots me. All I do is raise my clutched papers like a futile shield. But his face. It was rubbery and wrong...not a mask, but sort of like uncooked sourdough. Just not quite right. He fires. The loudest and scariest sound. The bullet hits me. He turns and runs, disappears back into the shadows and is gone. But im alive? I look at my notes. Impossibly, that thick stone tablet was hidden by my sketches and notes on the loose sheets of notebook paper. It blocked the bullet. I pick myself up, and walk into what looks like it was a old saloon/tourist saloon restored/mostly abandoned again bar. Sit down and the barkeep (In period barkeep like clothes) comes up and pats my shoulder. You survived! By God your alive. Nobody has ever survived a point blank shot by that type of weapon. Im not talking, im forming questions in my mind. "your lieutenant.. Your friend. He rebelled to take over your operation...Im all that?s left. But by god your back and you survived. Poured me drink and I sipped, confused. Looked around the room, The polished brass and bottle of whisky, saloon stage, chandelier, the upstairs rooms. My base, a place I was at another time apparently. No real memories. Im alive. For now. But I know he will never stop until I destroy him or he kills me so he can take what he lacks. Im not sure I can or will. But he wont attack again for awhile, it takes along time to build up the energy. Or so I understand. Time for a drink I guess. Im not sure that was ....triggered the memory. And your saying the purple lips...ick. The shooters seemed purple and spittly, and his eyes had a dead steel behind the warmth. might not be him. But I know the type. I used to be one of that type. Or close to it . Before I closed down and went free? On an adventure? Was born? Who knows not me. But the bad guys always surround themselves with needy victims as a shield against people like me , and as a source of gratification. Anyway. there it is. In words. When most of it was imagery and emotion. A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-06-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2sGdpJZdFA http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIMAfwJSfKw " Crawdad You get a line and I'II get a pole, honey, You get a line and I'II get a pole, babe. You get a line and I'II get a pole, And we'll go down to the Crawdad hole, Honey, sugar baby, mine, Get up old man, you slept too late, honey, (2x) Get up old man, you slept too late, Last piece of crawdad's on your plate, Honey, sugar baby mine. Get up old woman, you slept too late, honey, (2x) Get up old woman, you slept too late, Crawdad man done passed )-our gate, Honey, sugar baby mine. Along come a man with a sack on his back, honey, (2x) Along come a man with a sack on his back, Packin' all the crawdads he can pack, Honey, sugar baby mine. What you gonna do when the lake goes dry, (2x) What you gonna do when the lake goes dry, Sit on the bank and watch the crawdads die, Honey, sugar baby mine. What you gonna do when the crawdads die, honey? (2x) Wl@at you gonna do when the crawdads die, Sit on the bank until I cry, Honey, sugar baby mine. I heard the duck say to the drake, honey, (2x) I heard the duck say to the drake, There ain't no crawdads in this lake, Honey, sugar baby mine." aa A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-07-2011 She had a Jamaican accent and wore a Rastafarian style beanie hat with all the colors. Red, yellow, green, etc. They were busily discussing what she/they were working on. On a holographic compute monitor in the table, she was pulling up a region of space. It was a sub galactic pocket of stars....between galaxies, a clump more then a spiral region. A small loosely organized galaxy i suppose. It was intersecting the broader milky way at one of the arms...moving through it like a lighter gas through a heavier one was my impression. She was looking at the types of stars in it. Most of them were young to moderate aged suns like our own, Yellowish stars. I was listening intently without disrupting....i asked a few questions about relative time tot he now or earths existence, and she showed how since the relative time differential was not constant in the two globs of gas, as it passed through the milky way the age of the planets was about the same in time as the earths now...i.e. formed, habitable, and now. she seemed to be the team lead by default. Her point was all the attention was given to the spiral galaxy the milk way, but the richest area of life wasn?t tin it, it was intersecting it, including, supposedly, the earth system. The attention was on the milk way, the popular mindshare, but that small region was where the action as what was interesting. (something about dense galactic cores and emit ions, waves of supernova radiation...long term, the spirals tend to sterilize life...over billions of years. life is her e because its from the more loosely organized, chaotic loose sub galaxy that?s just passing through the more ridged spiral region) this was academic to an extent. She pulled dup individual stars and ran simulations of them in heir time and the new interaction time etc. Wasn?t directed research per say. Just a team project research etc. It was like...people assume we are of the milky way local galaxy, but we belong to another one altogether we are moving through. Said with the concern that I told you we at my home are on the pacific, not north American plate. or in-between. wasn?t a point to it per say, was just interesting thing to point out. no urgency immediately or per say. then one of the other employees mentioned going to get lunch....she hesitated because the room was crowded, and her tail was odd and noticeable. another one, who acted a little to interested din her...lol...said just throw three sweaters around your waist it will just look like a big weird backside. She laughed and said "my mother could pull that off...imp not my mother. Her father or grandfather was full whatever alien he was...and she took more fully to his traits then her mother. But she tried it anyway and i followed the group back into t he main concourse. which had more the look of an ultra modern space now. like a cruise ship or a part of a larger structure craft. there were less people now. They (workgroup) were going to purchase a, meal with their employee credits..and i was damn it i didn?t have to spend cash on that burger i could have use d my employee badge. Well i wanted to sit with them so i found a place that made shakes i was going to get milkshake and have that with them as they ate. then there was a terrible racket. without much introduction, a angry spirit roared through the space. It urinated colors...blues and purples mostly. it wailed up a and down and chased people out. I was ok well dang it i just want my milkshake. but every time i would hide behind something to sip it the specter would find me and make me move then dart off to chase others. it was letting no one rest and was noisy and had people running. Everyone was getting distracted and the team was sitting in t he middle getting worried because all the other passers by were diving and hiding and it was chaotic. the entire place was imperiled somehow by this. I felt like i had to pee again. so i went into the bathroom. this time there were no urinals but to pee i didn?t have to really pee anyway. i was huh...wrong bathroom? that lizard tailed Rasta was in there...i mad ea joke about whoops cant tell the boys pee place from the girls or something and she laughed. It was ok, it was all simulation anyway, equivalent. i chuckled then the spirit roared into he bathroom. A public bathroom is a small space, so it was booing and flinging great gobs of purple and blue which looked like oil paint when they hit it was all over me and everything. I spoke to the spirit and its cognition didn?t seem to be more then 7 year old child in t he center of that maelstrom. it sat down in a far corner and stopped wailing was communicating somewhat answering questions. I took a few steps out of the bathroom and communicated to the team i would handle it. I started shuffling and dancing from side to side. making a drumbeat and instrument line. i swear there was an electric guitar too. It was a silly shuffling dance and song like the wiggles might sing, but not. the words were not words and music not music. I then approached the spirit again and could see even more clearly. He wasn?t hurling feces. Just pee that was made into oil paints. i looked again and he was even younger...5 years, 3 years...and infant...a newborn. I spoke with him as he regressed, asking questions. finally i saw that he had died right after childbirth. he had only peed, never pooped, he didn?t live that long. i was very sad and protective and also resolved. As i asked him a nd he regressed, there was also a very adult counterpoint to the energy. what i was saying was true, but it was just a truth to the being. it was also something old and scary and aware. and also it was the child. that was one of its lives. I?m not sure what happened exactly, by singing and asking it became more solidly what i was saying. collapsing into that form and reality and mind. So it was and was not. an infant then. as it became more visibly that, finally i finished my song. i bade it to return to spirit place. I told him it was ok, to wait for me there. to find my helpers. when i returned he could be my son there, for a time. He agreed, but the adult part was reserve don it. so he became a fetus, and then turned inside out back to the spirit world. I felt mixed. It also could have become a grown man. but i sang it to being a child, into being born once more. In any event, it had stopped the eruption but i had more work and adventures ahead with what I promised anyway we could leave the bathroom now. I don?t know what the res t of the team saw or heard in the song. the lizard lady saw more...but she also was the most reserved and mysterious. she just smiled...her face wasn?t lizard it was human but greenish and blues around the lips. the res t of the team was annoyed. like a fire alarm had been pulled. the common space had shifted again, but they don?t notice the shifts. the lizard just somewhat, just enough to smile a bit. that?s when i stopped remembering the dream again. A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-07-2011 Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2008 Its six and I still remember these dreams so I thought id type them up. Both of them play out like Scripted movie Type narratives. Both of them, the second in particular, are full of what I would consider disturbing content...even if its heavily edited to fit in a pg-13 rating The first dream had myself, and possibly a sibling, finding ourselves in a very bleak near-future. We were living in a broken down van, floor rusted out with pieces of plywood serving as the floor. I had the tinges of memories about a past like this one. When id sleep in the dream id catch snippets of a scientists commemoration speech for a new project. He was speaking grandly of the "legacy project, and the vasmir array, a new dawn in human integration with the galaxy, etc". But I could see the full speech when I was sleeping on those floorboards, just glimpses of a scientist standing at the podium in Geneva or at the un building, the flash bulbs and applause. Our father figure here looked to be part Asian, or maybe 1/3. He drove the van and helped us to find food. The van finally died beyond his capacity to fix in some mid-town (low rise, lots of apartment blocks) suburb. The world looked to be 30-40 years in a advance of this one, but everything was run down, burnt out, and decrepit. Massive third world poverty and crime. It was like an American version of Bogotá, Columbia, in the mid nineteen eighties. Each block was a different gang, and urban warlords ruled various blocks. The police force was small, mostly absent, and thoroughly owned by different factions of criminals, corrupt, and more at war between the criminal factions in itself then actually being police. There weren’t allot of people over the age of 35, I think he average lifespan in those slums was maybe 22 -25. In this background I came out of the van. I needed a place to poop and pee. (lol) In the back of a burned out storefront, there was a semi working toilet and sink, and we use it as we broke down near it. I think I was only 18 or 19. Id keep my head down and go use the toilet, then crawl back to the van. We were getting worried the van was in the open (in an alley) but all kinds of eyes were looking to figure out the angle and if we had a dollar to be killed for. (we didn’t.) Fighting the cats for the dead rats. Not lots of trash to eat...it was already eaten. > Next to the burned out store with the restroom, their was a nest of people. A old lady (in her 40's) fat (sign of wealth and power in hungry world lol), and relatively nice. She had been a madam for one of the local crime guys, and been able to retire in relative wealth and security. She had a place were kids could crash and drink, and be out of the gunfire and heavy crime. Had food to eat, some, and alcohol to drink and places to sleep. The kids and young adults of the block would crash there, and they’d bring her things they found, do jobs for her, give her the scoop etc. And she in turn would pass this along to the crime bosses, and for that she was given her little place were she could let people crash, and it was more or less protected/off limits. Our father/guardian, soon befriended her. He was in his late 40's as well, so we were adopted into the neighborhood posse, and had a place to eat sometimes and get drunk or stoned and poop into the holes that used to be toilets. Things went on like this for awhile, days scrounging food and doing odd things to survive under the grey sunless cold sky, but in a relatively safe place. Then the father, I think he was called MR chen, disappeared. People fall off the the earth all the time here, dead or od'd it was a fact of life. But the matron was upset and confused by his disappearance. It wasn’t like the aftermath of a war, or mad max, there was a society out there, somewhere, and food was grown somewhere, but there was no news, or TV, it was like living in a mega world wide slum without clear access to information or any sense of a overall governing authority...outside the police...who were mostly enforcers and bodyguards for drug/crime lords. Accept for one cop who kind of kept an eye on t he refuge, his name was Harkins (that is a Figure ((Secret Cyborg)) from a minor quest in fallout 3) He had a smart if worn uniform of combat amour, and kept the killers and really bad people mostly away from the simple druggies and prostitutes and teens. A bit of a protector. Ina dream one night, after getting loaded on dope, > I saw my chen being held somewhere freakish. A crime boss had him under torture, he knew the word vasmir and was thinking chen had more answers. The crime boss had an enforcer...he was like that monster guy from the goonies....he would do a mild torture, indignity on chen, and that thing would laugh and carry it out. So I knew from the dream he was alive, and somewhere close, and was being held by the local crime lord for the street, but I didn’t have a good plan of action and I was too stoned and hungry and busy to see my way to a rescue. More months or years went by. I was older. I thought I had a sibling, but this memory was long gone now. I was a wise guy of the street, I had my place in the madams’ court, and was more busy making sure that place stayed safe for the other teens and young adults who would drop in. I never went more then a block from the space. One day there was a commotion, and a old beat up truck smashed into a building near by. Working vehicles were rare, and the streets were full of abandoned and stripped rusted out hulks. Well, most of them had been moved turned into makeshift shelters and barricades actually. A couple of pretty girls spilled out of the vehicle...it was full of bullet holes, and the driver was dead. They weren’t from that street, but you know them being pretty, I brought them into the refuge to calm down and have some food to eat. The matron let them come in because I opened the door for them. they stayed awhile..like everyone they were hungry. Weren’t as dirty as the locals. One of them was making flirty eyes at me and I liked it lol. After awhile, the madam got word out and some gunmen from the crime boss came to pick them up. And I was kind of sad to see them go. Things went back to normal for awhile. > Then I had another dream. This time Mr. chen was not being mildly tortured. His flesh had been infected and grown back bloated, he was full of partially healed cuts where skin had been separated. The sloth goonie monster guy was more horrible looking. A sheet of Mr. chens own flesh had been removed, then grown in some sort of fluid, then let rot and pickled gone foul...and he was covered by it, and the sloth monster now had needle like teeth and as the crime boss laughed and asked once again for vasmir, and the monster began eating the rotten flesh, and chens noose and face with it. It seemed it had happened many times, he would be partially consumed then the flesh regrown sewed back on to be eaten again. I woke screaming from this (as I was chen of course in the in dream dream) The madam had become more scared as time went on, the house had been hit by petty crooks, it wasn’t really being defended as well, she wasn’t in the same position of favor anymore. The booze and food and dope was getting spotty, and people were drifting away. One day, two gunmen kicked down the door. They ere looking for some person who had been there. They were after one of the local addicts. I had no weapon, and was out in the open. I screamed its not me its not me...and got down on my knees and put my hands in back of my head and was completely exposed. Odds are they would kill me anyway, just for kicks. As I screamed its not me, two guys from another gang came in the side door. They saw me like that so knew there were gunmen out front. I was kind of a wise guy so my doing that was a warning to whoever they were looking for. The two other gunmen snuck along the wall to an angel and started shooting at the two who had me down. Lots of bullets were going a crossfire, I was sure if die there. But it turned into a running gun fight out in the street, and soon they were out of the area. I checked myself for holes, then went o check on the boss and get drunk as I was shaking. That night the two girls from the car wreck came back, this time they were looking more confident and a bit sluttier. Which isn’t to make fun. Dressing like that was like a uniform, that you were a female part of one of the gangs. All Goth nasty or wannabee 80's videogame. The fact one had the resources to tart up meant they were someone in the first place. They had brought some food and good drugs some credits...they had come looking to party and to pay back the hospitality. Well I wanted to party...my dreams stay pg 13 so it was looks full of promise and drinking. lol. At one point the one I liked the most said something, let something slip. The madam looked shocked, then angry. They worked for the boss that had Mr. chen. The handful of hommies from he block that stayed on after the booze dried up all got very tense. Everybody’s started grabbing guns. Those two girls looked surprised...then reached for their own weapons. I made everybody not shoot and I pleaded with those two to join us....but sorry no they wouldn’t. but we let them leave...it was the closest I had felt to love in that horrible place, and I was saddened by our now needing to do battle and be enemies. As soon as they left we didn’t loose any time. About 12 of us grabbed what weapons we had, and left the block. We were going to get chen from the bosses stronghold. We arrived at the stronghold and fanned out. The big madam had a shotgun and a baseball bat, and looked fierce! AS I was figuring out how to start, without killing too many people, Officer Harkins grabbed my shoulder from behind. He handed me a reddish looking assault shotgun sniper type thing, and demonstrated how to use it. And stood there. I looked at the motley rescue team, and gave a speech. The speech I gave was word for word the one the scientist had given before the assembled representatives of humanity in the dream past. As I spoke, I saw myself superimposed over the dream image of the figure before the U.N. General Assembly. At this Harkins froze, and smiled. I had a huge data transfer into my mind, but I didn’t have time to look at it. Just a flash of time pods or transmitters. I saw what the vasmir array was...a million space objects, formed instantly out of the oort belt, that drew closed and encircled the solar system. Each one at its center held a cylindrical world, ten thousands miles in diameter, with a light brought out of the void at the center. A million tubes each larger then the earth itself in surface living area, connected by a spiders web of strands and this encircled the solar system. But I didn’t have time to look. All of this happened like a sudden thought, then was put aside. I had a job to do. Here and now. I walked alone to the door of the gangsters stronghold. It was a old disco or nightclub. Around the doors his minions lounged and leaned. 2/3 were young women, all dressed up like some bad internet fantasy, some with Goth face paint, all young and worldly looking, holding different weapons like switchblades or whips, or other such violent fetishes. Each of the guys was surrounded by a bunch of them, and looked like they were drawing off the energy that they were giving in exchange for their elevation above the grinding boredom and poverty of the world. I exchanged some words, and then a old freak came out. He was spinning a whip like an octopuses tentacles, at the end of each arm was a orange ball of energy. he kept trying to hit me with one of the arms, and I kept dodging it and sending them back at him. After awhile the guys and girls stopped leering and taunting, and became more business like pulling out more workman like weapons and advancing on me. At that point I pulled the strange weapon out and went into navy seals mode. those goons didn’t have formal military training like apparently I did from somewhere....id shoot into he head, duck, throw a grenade, misdirect, and slip into the building...and kept going lower and lower. Descending layer after layer, level after level. I only had to fire a few dozen times. And the weapon was always out of ammo...I had to pump the ammo bay ion and out and more would generate. I noticed as I went that the weapon had no power at all. Id shoot at the head and ink would show up like paintballs...all this would do is confuse the enemy, or they’d thing they were shot and run off. I was thankful that I apparently knew what I was doing, and I was using the weapon like a focus for intent, not as an actual killing tool. But still id feel safer if those shell cartridges were real Finally got to the door were the last boss was. Harkins was here with me again. I said "hey you gave me a fake weapon" And he laughed and said "I wasn’t going to give you something to kill those we protect with...the extraction infiltration, fight was all mental, was all will...bullets and weapons were unnecessary, as none of this is as those in it see". At this point I started accessing more data. this wasn’t 40 years in the future, it was billions of years in the future . We were in a world ship, or part of the vasmir array. Lots of stuff came in flashes. Everyone who had ever lived, every been a figment of imagination, a character in a story, all of them were here. In a place appropriate to their expectation. and not even on the physical artificial world. the tech was spiritual/technological. A place were every dream and variation of every human event or dream was here, in the arrays. I had a final glimpse and perspective on heaven, hell, and purgatory, some god from the machine or machine from the god philosophy. Way to much was like a flash of revelation. I never did rescue chen. Was no need after all. As I was he. As I was being overwhelmed with data and insight into a thousand different realities, I picked an end for me there. ?Id cast down the crime boss, put the madam in charge and it would all be a safe flop house for a time, and all those Hench people would go back to being a weird family of derelicts. Id probably spend some time indulging in the things those females represented, but calm down and marry the one I loved, and it would be relatively happily ever after for everyone. the end. Consistent with the reality. I also had to go back to the start of the vasmir project...I saw that it was an attempt to preserve humanity past the end of reality, and carry it forward into rebirth of the universe as the template. That scientist was a being a billion years in the future, the assembled throngs of humanity were our dreams and fears, us after we are dead. That world sucked so bad, was fragmented because those spirits, dreams and remnants of humanity couldn’t stand stagnation. Forever in t his array, until the new dawn of physical reality, they played games of rise and fall rise and fall. To keep the spirits from dying. Ahh goes from there. it was a big download of data, that in the dream, as that wise guy avenging crusader, I didn’t give two shakes of a rats ass for. ironic. lol A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-08-2011 When you put it like that I appreciate your recognition of the aspect of self that gives a damn...and i recognize the arrogance in myself that thinks its my place to make things right lol. The two go hand in hand. Let me tell you a story of my past. We started out ok...my father taught Art history at cal state Fullerton, he had an antique store in Claremont. Before that he was the assistant director at the Los angeles museum of African American art (lol), and at the La museum of art in charge of contemporary collection. I don’t know why exactly things started falling apart, but i remember, at maybe 4, him becoming scary. Beating my mom, yelling, hitting me. Looking at me with anger as he became dissatisfied with our crumbling lives. He dismantled and gave away y jungle Jim to my pre-school (with the orangutan and alligators) to pay my tuition. In the end, he got a job at a market research company and lost his antique business over a fight with his female partner (former lovers before my mom). I loved the memories before it got too bad. The Greek restaurant were the owners were nice and would slip me some current wine with my baklava and my favorite, roast lamb...so yummy. I didn’t know what was happening. I remember wanting to kill myself after awhile. Some old fucker poisoned my poor cat and we found it floating in the neighbors pool. I didn’t understand. Before that things were magical...the trip to Mexico (Guadalajara) was the last happy thing. There was a little girl, my age, selling gum by herself in the plaza. She very shyly handed me a piece and smiled...for free hehe. Maybe she was 5 and i was 4 lol. First time i fell in love, although i wouldn’t understand it then of course....somebody looking at me, a stranger, with i don’t know...love and connection. The ponies that drew the cart we rode in. The plain ride, holding my Daniel puppet (from Mr. Rodgers) looking out the window with him on my hand at the brown hills and little towns so far below. Was like magic. The two cousins that came to live with us....the ones i told you about always fighting lol...same as then. I hated when they had to go to school, and would wait by the door for them to get back so i could hug them...and get into their stuff, break their models or get into their tapes...lol. One thing that stands alone is my best friend. We would go to Disneyland and stuff...man that was like the best the anticipation of going. i remember his 4th or 5th birthday. Was so fun. And then he was gone. Nobody told me at the time, but i found out a few years latter. His dad had got mad gunned him and his mom down at the bank or something. Just gone. Just moved one day to Seattle area. I remember the trip...that was kind of magical too. Me and my dad rode in the truck...sneaking the cats and the chicken into the hotel rooms at night lol. damn truck broke down and we had to walk to a phone for a repair man. He wouldn’t open the truck till we walked back because he was afraid my chicken, that i got from the preschool (hatched them for a project) would peck his eyes out hehe. I guess when we got to Washington, a friend of his had promised him a VP job in that office. Think he had it for a day, before he was told to hit the malls, her son was getting the job. Was piece work, so he ended up making less then a dollar an hour, stuck out at the far end of Tacoma and SeaTac malls. In one house, selling furniture, to a cheaper house a few months latter...etc etc. Till we eventually ended up in in Homewood terrace co-op for poor fucks like us. I don’t know why people hated us so much...i imagine my father, reduced to grinding poverty from being the swinging with a house on mount Washington in los angeles he started as, as he still does, probably told his self absorbed stories and was condescending to the ignorant fools he was surrounded by. I’m sure he just talked about art, or his interests, and that was probably enough for them to hate and attack us. Throw rocks through the window, egg the car with us in it, chase us with high beams etc. I didn’t understand. I think i thought it was my fault somehow, must be as i was getting it. > Right then i kind of started shutting down allot. Before the co-op < In a field near one of the temporary homes> is when i had my first "paranormal" with the being in the field...floating above the ground. > Other people were running but I was drawn mesmerized. My brother was even smaller then me he ran too a after a few minutes> When that sort of stuff started. I’m a kid what the hell its all possible in my mind. ...ended up sexually assaulting a female girl a week latter....she came to my dad with what happened he told her "do whats right, don’t put up with that". That part time job didn’t last long hehe. (Some of these i learned about later lol) Or the rich people (lol) in the house by the lake who took me to see et (movie tickets wow) with their kids...little things like that stand out more because it was so much bad. One time my dads check for 2 weeks was 50$. We were already going to the food bank. Ate allot of pasta with Alpo. Sometimes my dads female boss would visit for some reason buy us groceries make promises about how he would get promoted soon to hang in t here old friend to my dad. Never happened. One Christmas the church people must have taken pity...was lots of toys and stuff out of the blue. A few months latter, feeling i had to do something, i took all my toys and went door to door trying to sell them. Made 5$ to give my mom i think. Got my dad in allot of trouble so i had 10$ of skin taken off my ass for it hehe. Another time he and his fellow slaves tried to open a competing business...that was exciting...my dad had hope and things were better..for the two weeks before it failed...i think they were faking surveys....and he had to go back and beg for his job back. Think he got it...at lower rate per survey. I was in kindergarten...i was becoming very....not withdrawn, but creative in my outlets. I told you of the cities i would build. Pyramids and canals channeling running water. I would build these places and fill hem with people. Histories, cultures and gods. At first usually some kids would come and stomp them down, but after awhile, as they grew more intricate and i grew more animated in explaining them, people would help me, and even the yard duty people would come and watch. There would be 10 of us talking about how the roads worked or what this was or that. Funny thing those cities and civilizations, worlds i imagined. Recently, as i shared with you, I was shown they were "Real" in some dimension, and i was the “god” of their civilization. And a thousand others. lol. From a little kid playing in the sand and mud with sticks and rocks. I am, in some dimension, the flayed god of the playground civilization. Didn’t fill you in on the real meaning for me or memory from the past hehe too crazy. the most interesting person was Rodney . He came from the city for the campfire group, to help the poor kids i guess lol. He met my parents and liked them i guess...due to being educated and worldly lol...he was an engineering student in college i think. He would take all of the kids from the group to the exposition park (world fair place with monorail) museums and stuff. We would got to church with him to his Chinese Baptist church sometimes. And the people there were the nicest. Go and eat overlooking the lake at the expensive restaurants because we were like a novelty i guess lol. Doesn’t matter it was real. One thing, i snuck out and wandered in the back lot found a lantern bush? with candles burned out around it. So i ask the youth guy, why? They stammered a bit....some of the older people still do the customs of the beliefs in china. I let it go. The spot felt good....like better then inside a church. Something was there smiling it felt to me. Well, as things tend to go, i realize now he was there so much because of my mom...i guess she was pretty. And sad and trapped. and abused. His coming so much made her sadder. I bet she confided in him, and he was her only friend, only person who cared bout her in that as then, like now she is so alone. I don’t think she did anything,. One time my mom and I got beaten so bad she and i couldn’t leave the house . They were drinking cheap wine the two of them (parents) heavily then. Hence the Alpo and noodles to eat hehe. Rodney came and saw...went to Kathy dongs house called the police. They did not even show up. I can imagine what he was thinking. Maybe he had a crush or was in love with her...because she was so vulnerable. And me and my little brother. He had lots of reasons. Rich guy from immigrant parents. He bought me a set of classical tapes...gave me his collection...music from the glass harmonica and peter and the wolf were my favorites. And a stereo system he gave my parents with it. Nothing happened from it. He still visited, my dad knew and was shamed a bit i think . It was a important moment. I don’t think it would have been any better. Not my mom, or me, could leave my dad. We loved him too much to betray him. Still do. He s till came and we went places all of us...but he seemed...sad and ashamed. Chinese people i guess don’t do stuff like that. My dads semi estranged brother and my dads uncle lived close. One time we went to uncle jeanes...wasn’t real nice, but his wife was sweet. He had a bull...i loved that bull. was so interesting. One time i came and asked where he went. He is the shed imp going to slaughter him tomorrow. I cried and begged for the poor thing...my friend. So he didn’t kill him...while i was there. Dad wouldn’t take me back to uncle jeanes after that. thought i wanted to die i was so sad...still am sad about that. poor creature who grazed by the creek and let me pet him. My uncle sometimes we would all go and help him work on his new house in the woods...his little farm on 20 acres. We weren’t welcome. Had us for one thanksgiving after that we were alone. He was a bible beater. So much there with him. I wasn’t allowed to visit because i was a non Christian influence due to being baptized catholic...he was too, but grandma wouldn’t bless his marriage at 17 to the thirty year old >. He killed himself last year. just sucked down a shotgun shell. She told us, my dad asked about the funeral. We were all ready to fly my dad sister brother and momma and i for his funeral. She forgot to tell us about it. Turns out, my dads not being there got him out of uncle jeanes will, who was wealthy and is now pushing 102. Lucky for her. It sucked, uncle Tim came here left us a copy of a purpose driven life. I didn’t read it. We went to the mountains to the falls with my sister while my grandma was dying. Rally talked, i think he saw us a people for the first time. then he went back after some drama after her death (he thought she had more money and he apparently needed it). And killed himself. As soon as we went to Washington, we moved back. Just wasn’t working. Dad finally lost his shitty job. Grandma, who had been sending money, and shame and berating along with it, had enough. Said we could move in with her. That was a new misery much like my own now. but the end of Washington. So we left. The irony? My dad has two masters degrees (MFA and Art history) and was teaching college. Apparently, as he discovered 7 years later, he could have been teaching high school on the state program. Was a teacher shortage. They were advertising it on TV. He just never made the connection or noticed it. Hey im qualified and i don’t have to keep at this dead end job being used...nope. he was going to suffer till the world came to its senses, patted him on his back and gave him that vp job he was promised. lol. So like me, my father. If he had thought to look into it. But he never even thought about teaching. None of it had to be the way it was. But for his being more focused on beating his wife and feeling wronged by the universe. The way out...way to a different experience was his to take all along. I tried, but it wasn’t in my power to help them. I just didn’t know what to do, but thought it was my fault. And i guess i decided i would not fail them, and dedicate my life to stopping their pain and my own. Man, oh man. lol. > A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-08-2011 As a followup, If anybody reads that. I love my father, mother, all of them very much. Those that are still living and those who are now bones and ash. Yes i wish when i was more vulnerable they had been in more control of their selves, and actions, but that weakness is hardly, in any sort of just retrospect, a cause for hate and ignorance. Its not my intent to besmirch them, like characters of revulsion in some personal drama, making no allowances for their lives and expirences in said lives. Its not fair, or right,or just. That became more of an issue as i got older, say as s teen and young adult, but thats a story we all have gone through in one way or another. No need for me to act like im the first person to discover fire burns. My intent when i first sent this, and now years latter posted it was do explain and define the things from that time that shaped who i am how i see now. Not to extract some passive, cowardly retribution at the ghosts in my mind by creating a memory, a story, and casting them as the vilians. They arent that, many things we do that to, characters we make up in stories and mythologies, that we see in our dreams, arent that. On the other hand some are but theirs a logic to it. Even if its the peace of the tooth and justice of the claw. But its a disservice to ourselves, collectively and as individuales in our own souls, to deny the right of existance ecasue we hurt. or fear. Or condemn. Besides, im hardly breaking ground to say those actions, the very influence to do so is the only real power those who seek to control and use have, when it comes down to it. Even Robocop could say enough and be his own. Save the spare parts. And the oil. He still had to get those from OCP goods. Here it comes in my heart...angels and bellybuttons. the eternal debate. lol A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-08-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hO6IZC2VkAo Lyrics to Hanging Judge : I realize That my life tonight Must deal with fate Painful Dwelling I can't fight the feeling I won't hold a grudge I'll face the hanging judge No reason to stall You might as well call The hanging judge I have a soul That's been lost in the climb Too many times Painful Dwelling Only left wondering I won't hold a grudge I'll face the hanging judge No reason to stall You might as well call The hanging judge I emphasize That my final goal Has been made Painful Dwelling Hear my voice yelling I won't hold a grudge I'll face the hanging judge No reason to stall You might as well call The hanging judge The hanging judge The hanging judge You might as well call The hanging judge http://www.youtube.com/wa...xmas&feature=related A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-08-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-aUsXYLZmU Anybody who likes this will appreciate the related items in the sidebar. http://www.youtube.com/wa...-3GA&feature=related The trick of turnin' bricks to gold the lick you churn to not grow old let it all out n' scream it n' shout I let you in on everythin' Your heart desire burning on the dark side of your wild side Ya got an alley cat style You're a crazy child You got what it takes Gimme your smile All this right 'cause we're breakin' the chains, breakin' the chains All this right 'cause we're breakin' the chains, breakin' the chains Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com Livin' on the edge of night Suckin' love from every bite All that we need we're in for the feed We get from every kiss of death Your heart expire burnin' on the dark side now you're a wrath child A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-09-2011 Sent: Tuesday, January 19, 2010 12:10 PM > To save words, this place had the feeling of a military base camp in Iraq or Afghanistan. the military occupied a cluster of ruins. they were they had the look of the Egyptian temple with the ramps, and very weathered desert stone columns. But they also had more Mesopotamian elements, the winged bulls statues, the faces with he stylized straight beards on the statues etc. there were many complexes and temples. The exact edge of the base camp was unclear. the lighting was as if at dawn or dusk always through out he ruins, the golden bronze light making the elements stand out. A extra three dimensional effect quite beautiful. and silent. and ancient. the ruins were different, but similar to other ones fro dreams where there were pitched battles, exploring and fighting over them in other dreams. there was a convoy of 6-8 humvee like vehicles. Each one had a driver and a co driver. I had the impression it was s supply relief convoy, not a patrol. but I also wasn’t given that information. there was for lack of a better word also reporter embedded in each of the vehicles. the cameras were free floating eye or circle things like on stargate or something. this allowed for the explanation of thing I should already know. The humvess glass was impervious to bullets, but a not to cutting edges or spears. Spearing the driver was a favorite insurgent tactic. the side windows were also bubbled like this. with the added feature that you had to bend you hand up and curve tot he right to unlock them. this was so if they were pierced, if a mob or person tried to open the door and pull you out, the angle their arm would penetrate the window amour would not physically allow the hand to curve to the C shape needed to unlatch it coming from the outside. you had to pierce a straight hand into the membrane, then curve it inside. It was anatomically difficult to do that from the exterior the angles didn’t work. there were weapons, but not guns on he outside of the vehicles. I didn’t notice what they were or have access to them. my right hand cupped in a C was the key to access and exit. Before long the convoy moved out. Impossibley close to the occupied ruins were the insurgents. a few hundred feet down the dirt road. As we went for the reporter the driver kept a running commentary. to the right were burn marks where a convoy was overrun they had to call in an air strike. As we moved further we had to move through he camps. they weren’t tent camps, they were stone and cinderblock buildings. the road became a space through this warren. It looked like the Gaza strip densely built up, not tents and campfires. they had come to fight, from Pakistan etc Muslim nations, to claim the ruins or kick the military out of them. Not as an army, but as stragglers. And were pushed back to this ring of slums. the driver, with some disdain, said not to die or fight in he desert, but to BREED (with disgust) and weigh with their weight on he perimeter. At some point after this, the driver fell asleep or was sick or simply gone. so I took control of the lead humvee. there were holes in the ground, rod, where IED's had been buried and explode under humvees. the last patrol went to far tot he side of the road and hit one. Soon the road was full of holes form past explosions, and potential newly dug explosive spots. I managed to thread the convoy through hem. At one point I had to slow down to figure a path through. the holes had become mired full of sewage and rain water from a rare storm. to my right and left, teenage rock thrower types were coming onto the road. for some reason I had stuck my hand through he window to feel the air and get through this trap. Seldom used road. One of them had a large slender stick...I think now like goat herders keep, shave of bark, he lashed my hand with it and it stung. the group ran into the massive slum. RPG's and gunfire were very likely soon to follow, so I threaded the convoy down the road and hit the speed again. One f the drivers stopped listening, decided to shoot straight from fear after a few bends. their humvee became mired in a pool of muck We had to stop to dig it out. We got out and began pushing. the air was silent. As I pushed I saw the problem. the engine gas tank was full of mud now. the vehicles would still move, but it was hard getting the horsepower to free the vehicle form the mud when it was sputtering. At this point the other drivers and passengers were blah blah ing I kept looking down the empty road behind us. any moment they could spill out. the air was still and hot. next to me lead vehicle there was a staircase that went to a small semi room. they decided to set up communications equipment and forma perimeter there. I didn’t like it only way in or out was the road. I kept peeking out peering around the road. nothing. silent. they were dicking with the radio and not being very productive arguing and arguing. I looked again. and there, around the corner, standing silently, were 10,000 men women and children standing silently. some of them were in shawls like in Pakistan. others turbans. all were in rags whatever the style. I ducked back in said well its too late now to argue about which command post to radio. they are here. they just annoyed me more, reaching for little weapons and blah blah go Rambo but it was ignorant. there was a sea of beings in t he road now. not enough weapons or bullets to stop he inevitable. I went back to look again. A grim, thin man in a 80's style dusty suite came forward. >I didn’t move to stop him he came alone from the throng. he followed me right back to the command post. and the fools didn’t know how to react. He asked me for a flat tablet, which on the top was a computer A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-09-2011 http://www.greektube.org/content/view/120612/2/ Let me hear you scream! I'm black and bruised, beat up but still I take the blows 'Cause all I need is blood and sweat and skin and bones I'll take this bait, resolve your case, nobody said it's easy It's do or die, only the strong survive, get ready for the last stand! Get ready, I'm your hangman! Let me hear you scream like you want it! Let me hear you yell like you mean it! If you gotta, GO DOWN! GO LOUD! GO STRONG! GO PROUD! GO ON! GO HARD OR GO HOME! Let me hear you! (let me hear you!) Let me hear you! (let me hear you!) Let me hear you scream! I'll pull you up and push you right back in your place I'll take you down and wipe that smile right off your face I'll watch you break, you're mine to take, don't blink, you just might miss it! It's all or nothing, nowhere left to run, are you ready for the last fight? Get ready with the war cry! Let me hear you scream like you want it! Let me hear you yell like you mean it! If you gotta, GO DOWN! GO LOUD! GO STRONG! GO PROUD! GO ON! GO HARD OR GO HOME! Let me hear you! (let me hear you!) Let me hear you! (let me hear you!) Let me hear you scream! A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-10-2011 Sent: Date: Sun, 21 Sep 2008 00:10:25 -0700 Before I read what you sent me I better type these out lol The first dream was me wandering, feeling kind of unseen, in the dream college again. Everything was set and I was going to get something to eat. As I passed through the student lounge, there was a large group of students...ranging from hip hop people to hippies, congregating around the fireplace and talking sitting in groups. The top dude, (listening to black eyed peas on his mps and dressing the part) looked at me and came up to talk. I was feeling awkward....so I sputtered some deep observation and wanted to get to a table to eat in peace. lol. He answered...that’s awesome! and motioned for me to sit on the couch with the peeps. Hip hoppy young guys and girls. hippies, college activists, artists etc. lol. I said something else and he took out a yellow notepad like the one I sometimes write dreams on and added my words to it. >Said he was going to include them, and how great it was. im like ok. the whole time I was looking at the finger son my hand...the ends seemed too smooth, and there were pinpricks that were bleeding a bit but not hurt. He then insisted I do a dance...or audition, do the crunk sung dance like they do...well ok. Try out and be judged. lol I was still nervous, but I went off. I was dancing, spinning on my fingertips, doing flips, singing, making jokes that were observations, alternating musicals style....dancing and singing and reflecting on reality blah blah in a high energy whirl. Lots of the movement was me on my fingertips spinning and flipping, the ones that were bleeding a bit. When I finished and flipped and bowed, the room was full, and everyone was all Awesome! super! Ws like a singing break-dance wit energy and communication across the room I did. They ranked me a 722 for the one performance....and their top guys would hit 328 for one performance...so in one impromptu I had gotten more then 50% of their top guys score...must be a performance prodigy etc. All the hip hop chics were gushing like fan girls blah blah. So next came a more ordered performance. I did the same thing (my fingers were worn a bit more and bleeding a bit more from the finger spins on carpet) I was left nervous, so I took it farther. I started speaking hip hop about that identity, being more sharp and penetrating in the dance moves and observations. One by one I could see the faces hardening and seeming uncomfortable. The commentary was a conservative perspective > that was uncomfortable for the embodiers to hear. But the general crowds was grooving still. I flipped through the wall, like into a over door. In that space there were cakes unbaked in Christmas tree and wreathe forms. I touched them with my fingers and some became watery dough, others got lumpy. So I stopped and tried to smooth them back, and had limited success...some of them looked gross from what my blood made them...they wouldn’t bake to the planned form exactly. I shrugged my shoulders, did my best and flipped back out the oven/ wall door. It was now dark outside the windows. only 20% of the audience was left. and more then half of them looked unhappy. I had been gone for hours. I finished and asked how did I do? I had lost 11 points for not finishing or disappearing for too long. Whets more the boss guys enthusiasm had turned to guarded wariness. But the fan girls and boys...the hardcore one...were even more wildly enthusiastic. Like they wanted to tear a piece of me off for a souvenir. I was a bit ticked that they wanted it for realz, but when I didn’t hold back and got a little too realz in went from awesome to wary. As I stepped away from the lounge to continue on my way, resolved not to do a third performance or play with them anymore, three or four of the super hungry fans pounced on me and knocked me to the ground. When I got up, my right hand was broken, fingers popping out at funny angles, the skin smooth like dead leather, numb, with he promise of great pain when it wasn’t. Hand was broken so I said I need someone to call an ambulance, but no one would. Even if they didn’t like me, I was a high scoring part of the group now, no takesy backseys. lol. They looked at me like an animal sniffing a friend who has died. they don’t see it.....no longer exist to them in some way. I kept insisting and finally I turned on one of the hippie fans....you...your keys...which he gave in shock. I took his keys, went outside found his beaten up van, and drove with my better left hand out of the parking Lott. I went on the street a little dazed....it was all million dollar homes on the street I was inching along in the broken down van. I looked for ones where people was home to ask someone to dial the hospital...half of them were dark, still others were foreclosed on. Finally I saw one that looked inhabited with people home, and drove onto the lawn and fell out of the van....crawled up to the door, raised myself to knock on the door. Was no need, the owners came out looking defiant and unyielding. No they would not call, no they would not get involved > I needed to turn around and get off their lawn, and don’t bleed on the grass. Feeling was coming back to the hand...just a tingle...but it was already hurting allot. As I stood on the walkway, deciding on how to argue or not, their daughters came home. Two of the ones who jumped me and their boyfriend. I turned to those fans and pleaded to call, but they too were nope, sorry, cold and withdrawn. which annoyed me since they broke my hand trying to touch me. now I felt really alone...more then when I walked in to get food, and betrayed. I wasn’t angry, or sad, just frustrated, and I woke. That was better then attacking my brother! lol Last nights was different. In this one, we all lived in a house on the main street of a historic street front. the house was a series of ground floor buildings that were connected, hollowed between. We and the pets were there. After some time, a plague came upon the nation. They looked like bees, in a swarm, and if they caught you they stung and you turned to stone and died. >There]>There">http://www.youtube.com/wa...dnhKPw2NXIw>>There[/url] was panic, and warning on TV. I had a hunch, and crawled in the addict, looking for the tops to some lamp bases I saw strewn about. Sure enough, when I found them, they fit on the square bases perfectly. With a turn, they activated. They put out a gravity field that shocked the bees if they were on someone and neutralized them. there were three lamp bases in the three main areas of the house, but only two would work so not a perfect field. My brother ran by with bees on him past the light and they fell off. The world was in panic. The pets that we had outside were gotten by the bees. After a time, I left the house in a lull in the swarms and spread the word at the antique store the use of the lamps that everyone had....to find the glass piece and turn. This must have happened in the 1930's as well >, but for some reason no one remembered and it wasn’t in history. Once I passed the word at the antique store (the lady from one I worked at owned) People found a way to be safe....but they also all were hunkered like turtles around the lamps. I knew there were other secrets, but I hadn’t found them and the lamps were "good enough" to weather the swarm. I worried about foxy and onyx >....my parents said they are gone...I said what! how...and I saw through their eyes. they were in a warehouse building, desperately shaving foxys orange hair off to make her look like a rat or cat. The reason was clear. The time since I had found the lamps was longer then I personally perceived. People were taking out with rifles looking for any meat to eat. Seemed we had enough, but people were coming looking for animals to steal and eat. They were shaving foxy to make her look like something unediable. The papa hunter bought it, but his son didn’t, was looking real close at what was foxy. I guess he got her. thats what my parents didn’t want to talk about. On the other hand, I knew they were ok, even the ones bees got, in t he larger picture. I had discovered the lamps, and got word out how to set up safety fields. But this had the effect of freezing people a round the lamps in fear, inside, and stuff was still breaking down locally (and I assume nationally) The news said a response center was set up four miles away. No gas. I seemed immune to the bees at this point, so I walked the path found the emergency triage center. the people there seemed bored...set it up and there is no one coming...they checked me over, were friendly but getting inpatient. As I walked home, an earthquake started. First one jolt, then two. then a long rolling wave. the earth shook and shook till the buildings people were in started collapsing forcing the people out. I saw are home fold in on itself. First I was freaked >, everyone was in there. But then I looked deeper and saw my old mom crawling out of the collapsed building with >...dad and > too. all the building that had fields on t hem were collapsed, and all the people crawling out with no where to go. I mentioned the response center...4 miles away. thousands came out and slowly, avoiding bees....began moving to it. I didnt actually see them, I just knew. But I couldn’t pick them pout from the sea of humanity emerging. They were in it....I knew they were ok, but grabbing them and running them to safety wasn’t what i was to do. Instead, i checked on people emerging, scouting their path, making sure they were moving to the first triage center. The four miles must have been longer. It was like an snails exodus. all those people don’t move easy. They would stop at a home with food or shelter, and bunch up, and start robbing each other etc. When that started, a killer emerged, like a horror movie...to scare them and keep them moving. i hid from the killer devil guy with them...it ate human flesh and liked children. it was so horrible >to keep them moving. >and my parents were still in the mass of people moving forward. The earthquake hadn’t killed many, nor had the bees or the killer cannibals. all of it was purposed to keep them moving. Part of it in response to my spreading the knowledge of the forgotten lamps. we were all supposed to move to the triage center, and not pause or stall because it had started. it was time. with hat, and having a good perspective on he migration, > i woke up. A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-10-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLFfSDEA26o We had broken up for good just an hour before Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh Now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing 'cross the floor Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh And then the band slowed the tempo when the music took you down Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh It was the same old song with the melancholy sound Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh CHORUS-1 : They don't write 'em like that anymore They just don't write 'em like that anymore 2nd VERSE: We been living together for a million years Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh But now it feels so strange out in the atmospheres Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh And then the jukebox plays a song I used to know Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh And now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing so slow Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh CHORUS-2: They don't write 'em like that anymore They don't write 'em like that anymore (Repeat Intro) 3rd VERSE: Now I wind up staring at an empty glass Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh Cause it's so easy to say that you'll forget your past Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh (Repeat Chorus-1 3x and fade) They don't write 'em like that anymore They don't write 'em like that anymore They don't write 'em like that anymore They don't write 'em like that anymore A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-11-2011 Date: Tuesday, July 15, 2008 > I’m going to write some recent ones because im getting sloppy on sharing hehe. Last week, I had a few one night that seemed symbol rich hehe. The night I had trouble sleeping, I had about 40 or so it seemed. I only remembered two as more or less complete narratives. The first one I remember fully, the neighbors hunting dogs had come over the wall. I was worried they would attack the cats, but they were nice. More like big marmadukes then meanies. Those neighbors - have never spoken to but once or twice, and they like to do things like report my car as inoperable to have it towed when id leave it on their side of the street overnight hehe. I talked tot hem about the dogs, and strained mightily to return their dogs over the wall. I to went over the wall to talk about it, and instead of the butthead guy that lives there were some ids and a older blond lady. >I talked about things, and when I was concerned for the cats, the cat doctors came. Literally....upright cats in medieval doctors garbs or nurse outfits, with a medical bag clutched in heir paws. They didn’t speak, they were like big regular cats walking on two legs not catlike people...I tried to communicate with them and did but it wasn’t verbal, and they went to attend to the cats hehe. So I was over the wall in the neighbors territory. The lady was maybe in her late 40's...one of those blonds that dies their hair and keeps wearing shitkicker jeans long after the body demands more dignity in dress She seemed loose...not because of that, but because her zone of inclusion was wide and without allot of focus in energetic terms >. As we talked, I started regressing becoming younger. I began to weep for things I had done wrong...i had broke something in the yard and was upset, and i remembered some other wrong but not what it was. She guided me to remember a green court dress, one of the shoulders ripped, that i was responsible for somehow. I just sat on the patio crying and blubbering about what i did wrong like that’s how they rolled, the looseness of the pairing was full of whatever in a long grudgingly shared space. She didn’t want me blubbering because he might thing something was up, and focus on me, but he looked at me and ignored hehe. So i left. Went home. I was standing in my parents bedroom, trying to explain the whole dog thing. I was looking at my own face out of a mirror to the side i looked normal. But when i looked at the big mirror, my face was gone. Instead of eyes, i had circular like tubes plastic eyes on a metal bar with the numbers 1-6 in blue enamel paint in the segments. My noose was one of those sewing things like a zipper but not (no idea what its for i know my dad had one i used to play with) an my mouth was a bigger half tube with 1-9 on it. They were spinning and moving. But i felt my face it felt like a face, and the profile mirror showed my normal face. > And my parents were admonishing me for not noticing my flesh was replaced by golem parts. hehe Latter on was a long but uneventful dream of me leaving the dream college im so often wandering around. I was noticing there was this class or that i either hadn’t taken or should maybe re do. Nope the credits people were saying your done plus several 100% of requirements. As much as i hated being there, i didn’t want to be done because it was a long road out to the unknown and beyond, and event though i didn’t like most the people there i would miss their presence and fear the unknown....not fear, long uncertain road thing. But i close d it out. I really didn’t need to take health and fitness 100 again or the other version of it. That schools stuff was shallow...it was a primer, but taking all the primers you can find after a point in pointless or so i realized. So my bags were packed and off i went. The last one i recall from that sequence was different. I had been brushing up on the history of extinct kingdoms/nations in Europe from 1400-1900 again before i went to bed. Most of the arose and fell from a dispute...one son inherits this or that in the context of the dynastic systems, and latter on it gets usually peacefully reabsorbed or split into larger related entities. i used my dream Google earth to highlight the old borders and find places in context tot he history. I undid one on the border of Spain and France...remerged them on the map and in history. I then brought it forward to know and went to a foreign real-estate thing to find a place that looked cool. Zoomed around and found a castle set into a hollowish hill. (like the city the ents take in lord of the rings i suppose lol). Castle was solid citadel, lots of moss and partially ruined but strong and beautiful. There was an inner village clustered near the walls in the opening to the hill. It was being rebuilt. there was a lower medieval town were most of the people moved. Total price...9,650,000 American lol. One click buying. I didn’t buy because i assume i couldn’t and somebody else beat me. But i still zoomed in and around....looking at the great wall like fortifications in ruins partially rebuild for tourism. With the price was a title of nobility. When the pieces pulled out, they literally dropped out of the normal time frame. Europe and the world was embroiled in something you can call a neo con nightmare ethnic and war and economic collapse scenario in present times . this small nation (well a few hundred miles) was out of the time line. They had chosen to find enlightened monarchs to steer it for awhile as the democratic thing was getting as bad and the worst empires and it was fun to do dress up and have jousts and fairs. At some point i realized i didn’t need to click, i saw the link because the offer to be the soveirghn of this place was there, and all the work in restoring and building the economy for the benefit of the people that needed to be done >....then it could drop back into time, the timeline would re sync. Like a game, because i was interacting via the computer...although i could zoom in and be there. "The enlightened feudal bloodline project for the preservation of historic autonomy and cultural ideological diversity Reserve: Albion." (or some other regional name). Lots of Arthurian imagery with swords and whatnot on the WebPages of the project i browsed in the dream. lol. I was back to being between the screen...or being the screen not an observer or inhabitant. Trippy That’s it from that night. My back kill me when i lay down right now. Last night was active too, more so, but maybe ill get tot hat latter. Whew. Lol. Hope you are having a fun time in Seattle. Talk to you soon A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-11-2011 http://www.youtube.com/wa...VyEo&feature=related Savatage Hall of the Mountain King. Far away In a land caught between Time and space Where the books of life lay We fear This castle of stone The mountain king roams All alone in here But he's not the only one Lost inside Forever hidden from the sun Madness reigns In the Hall of the Mountain King Oh yeah His deep Dark eyes Keep watch on his kingdom And the mysteries that sleeps safe inside His hall His towers of stone Shall not be overthrown For eternity It is guarded by the king Insanity and the power that it brings Madness reigns In the Hall of the Mountain King Oh yeah In the Hall of the Mountain King Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Come with me Stay close by my side As the darkness of night closes in Don't fear In the thunder, it roars When the Mountain King calls all his children home To where I hid him we must run Refuge(?) here but I was forever on the run Madness reigns (my friends) In the Hall of the Mountain King Oh yeah In the Hall of the Mountain King Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Guest - 11-12-2011 Dream Google Earth? Thats fascinating, and something I would surely love to try! Thanks A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-12-2011 After one last night/morning of dreams, my father died of a sudden heart attack today. This is what i wrote for him, or rather, for the rest of us. I think this was the reason for this particular thread, so i may or may not be done with it after My name is . My name was supposed to be , but my father liked my present arrangement better because it payed homage to his ancestor. I cant say that I ever disagred with the change. A few hours ago my father died. I was listening to a song on you tube when I heard my mother screaming. Mo town philly by boys to men. I admit, my taste in music is of questionable artistic merit. I came and found her over him by the kitchen counter, where the cats like to play. There was a moment of confused disbelief, the look of the protesters at Ken state, when the guns actually fired. The feeling on the morning of 9/11, and again on every such day and moment from the beginning to the end of time, or so I imagine. This was the look I felt on my face. The realisation that a moment, the “sum of all fears” to borrow a phrase from an author, comes to pass. I could feel that look, that moment again, behind the mask of my face. The answer to the question we all fear to ask. He had said he didn’t feel well, and went to get some water as my mom went for the asprin. He had fallen and cried out, the voice I heard, through my headphones, was not his but my mothers, crying for assistance. We did what we could. My mom pumped his chest with her frail hands. My sister Breathed into his mouth. I held his Head in my lap. We cried, we begged for life, we worked to bring it. After the confusion passed, he simply looked at my mother and cried a bit, for just a moment, and a few tears fell from his eyes. The tears fell with a music, fleeting, rich, full of emotion. A song like the falling of rain, a music I have heard before. The great Prophet, Jack Black, In his greatest work, said “The Devil is the little voice in your head that makes you not want to not go to work, and says *** you to those you hate”. My father was working on his lesson plans for class Monday when he fell. At the end, his eyes were the clearest blue like the depths of the sky after a storm. His hands, even as those eyes started fading into the milky depths of the night, grasped and moved like a man holding a brush. My father was perhaps the greatest artist, the greatest painter, the world has never known. He was a gentle man, a creative man, if like all artists, consumed by the frustration at the question we don’t know how to ask, and only he sees. And perhaps just a tad bit unyielding. He refused to go to war, to kill, and instead was given alternative service. He did not want to kill, but he stayed with his students in WATTS the night Martin luther King Jr was shot and Los Angeles burned. He traveled for years in Mexico, and stayed with a time with the huitchal amongst others, learning something of their language and their beliefs, their art, their song. We fought, we always fought from the beginning to the end between us. But not today, or yesterday, or the week before. I had remembered something, an answer to my own eternal question, just the night before. This very morning, before I slept and in my sleep. Today my dad was happy, his problems seemed not so big to him. He spoke of his brother, long gone into his own nite, as a child speaks of something loved. He didn’t even become upset when the mechanic they found on Craig list never showed up. This was the day, him working to prepare for his students, that he sketched his final artistic vision, that he sang his final song. He was never a man to miss work. I would give anything to see his greatest work, the answer he tried to sketch even as the night claimed him. But I think I know. We often ask, I have asked, where is God? Where was God when New Orleans flooded and burned. Where was God, as my father lay dying. God was the music in his final pure tears, the masterwork he struggled to sketch as he slipped away. God was with President Bush on the morning of 9/11, As he is with President Obama as he struggles against this moments version of those crumbling towers. God is with Elon Musk as he dreams of turning the Red Sky of Mars Blue, As he was with the crew of the Enola Gay as they did what had to be done, and turned the Blue sky of Earth red. And God was in the eyes of those who stared up from that hallowed ground, in their fleeting moment of confusion and disbelief. All of those moments, all of those times. Depending on your beliefs, Men are born and Men die but once, or a few thousand times. But god is born and dies an infinite number of times, in each of us. And God was with my father, on this, veterans day, 11/11/11, that man of gentle heart and a rocky road, as he died. Thank you dad for that so much. My original name, as it was told my mom, before my dad worked his beautiful art, and changed it to honor those forgotten, was to be Ian Andrew. This was the thing I found last night. In that configuration, my name literaly reads “God forgives, mighty warrior” The song i heard was "hush". Ill take that. On this, veterens day, I say If God can forgive me, forgive us all, then so to can I. My ather sure for our many quarells. The world for being what it is. But those things seem Trivial now really. Most of all, I can forgive myself. For those quarells, for the way things have to be. That was my fathers Greatest work, his masterpiece, and I believe his final vision. When I looked at my own eyes, in the mirror, as a I paint with my fingers these words, they are bloodshot , but theya re also the same crystal blue as his were , in his final moments. God, unlike us, never says Fyou, because he does not hate. That, I believe, was my fathers final vision, and the art he strove to sketch even as he lay dying. Of forgivness, and a god who dreams as we do, but endures it to infinity. For the sake of love. Thank you dad. I love you. Videos for text: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHzkICG47LU http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x40UYANhAwM http://www.youtube.com/wa...jrxc&feature=related http://www.youtube.com/wa...=u1kZ9zYr7kk&ob=av2e A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-12-2011 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpJtPXfMAwA Stand and Deliver Some people hate and expect affection Some peole lie and demand the truth I gotta ask myself if it's soul deception Is this a natural thing that we all just do We take such pleasure from pain I'm just tired of playing that game Some things you've got to change CHORUS: You've got to stand and deliver With your body and soul Stand and deliver Just give me something to hold Stand and deliver If the truth can be told We can make it together If we stand - stand and deliver Sometimes my mind drives me to distraction I want to shut all the windows And lock all the doors Every time I get a little bit of satisfaction I feel the walls come crumbling to the floor But I know in this life You gotta stand up for what feels right Each day and every night A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-22-2011 I decided to keep posting after that. This is one of many dreams about an "end to reality", if not the end of the world. Tue, 1/12/10 Well, the dream was last night, not from that lol. I had gotten a ride to Costco, as I have no car, from some of the people around here...the biker guy irl think that always want to tell me about their plans for making it big and want my help...so I try and help but I cant make it so they loose interest till a year or two latter and some other dream/plan. In the Costco type place I was alone. I had exactly ten dollars to spend. I wanted treats but more then that likes cereal so I needed to get him some, and if their was leftover, a little treat I decided. The building was confusing, more like the warehouse from the end of Indiana Jones then a store. there was a second floor for members, butt he bottom one was full of deals to entice the buying of said membership. As I wandered, I realized I had one of the manager type walkie talkies in on their frequency. but I wasn’t a manager and it seemed wrong. mine had more switches, directions written on taped on tabs, etc. the size of a big cordless. I don’t know why having it seemed so shame filling, but finally I left it by a store curtsey phone across from a managers cubicle (just in a space between isles. Once I left it I was not eavesdropping and I was completely anonymous. Didn’t want customers thinking I could do things with authority I did not have, or was stripped of long ago. I finally find an end of an isle with cereal for . First im looking at one box of captain crunch....but its tall and narrow, and when I shake it there isn’t much inside. So I put it back. Then I see a huge box of honeycombs, and while they don’t taste as good as captain crunch there are more of them and they are big in the mouth and the box is heavy. So that goes into my other hand. for the second box I pick honey bunches of oats with almonds, because that looks like it has different nutrients and I like it too. and he’s never had it. I think I had spend about 9 dollars with tax. I’m looking at a 50 pound box of individually wrapped strudel. I really want a strudel! but the box is 60$. I fret if there are any individual ones I can buy with my last dollar, but don’t think so. As im looking around things are changing. First the isle next to me goes from cereal to cleaning supplies, like a ripple. So I find another isle with treats, but as im walking, everything is changing randomly. the layout, the tile, the signs, magically shifting and changing. The cereal boxes just fade out of my hand. but im still in Costco ish mega store. This time I find a person and ask if they a re seeing it too. yes, they are, and its making shopping annoying. Everyone is seeing it, but they are just shopping whatever is in front of them its changing too. they see it, but they don’t react keep on as if its not happening. I find a spot with treats and cereal again, but it shifts real fast to car air filters and sparkplugs...im holding a box of sparkplugs all of a sudden so I put it down. Now I want to look outside, and wind my way through the shopping labyrinth to a huge steel delivery door/window. this store is on a hill like a castle, with a broad panorama of inland so cal towards los angels. I can see the cars on the freeway, the distant office tower, the orngeish smudge of the horizon that is the desert. but towards the city, and off to the left, is something. Its like a mountain that dwarfs the mountains, 10 miles high maybe, but clear and sharp. its alive...its slowly moving like stone. As I look, I can see it has legs and feet. the space beneath a foot would be 3 miles long, as it slowly stamps and moves towards where I am. as I look more, I see it has a head like a saber tooth tiger, fangs of stone miles long flicking back and forth and it turns it massive stone head. I look a t what its doing. Its head is diving in, the stone fangs going after people, one by one, as it destroys in slow motion. I worry for my parents, who went out to eat somewhere out there. but I judge its 60 miles from where they a re, and they have time to get back I suppose. That’s why time and reality was shifting, that’s what the creature does, every tear of its teeth or stomp of the foot pounds out a new fractured reality...the time waves were ripples from its motions, and getting stronger rand more chaotic as it ground its slow march of slaughter closer. I say slaughter but individual people and cities cars are so small compared to it its like a dance of stone. slaughter of microbes as you walk across the grass. You might think this is a good place to wake, but no. I don’t wake. I shift. into t he future after this. Its some decades later. were as once the earth was teeming with people and with this world, crowded and smoggy and concrete its gone. people live at point s of light on the globe. I can see the whole globe...here are a few in California, some in Oregon, some on the plains, some here and their across the earth. I am at one of these places, but not where I was before. As far as I could tell, the point of light I was at was an island (that doesn’t exist) several hundred miles off the coast of the southern end of western Australia. Like Christmas island, but with a more temperate climate and in a different place. And it was also where I am now...I never moved. the earth rippled. There aren’t many of us here. here, maybe two years older. there are others, but not many. We live in caves to hide from the thing. The world had started mending somewhat....all hundred thousand people maybe scattered at those points of light. nations and civilization were restarting in some, like the group based out of DC. But I seem tot think we need to stay in the caves, and camouflage what tech we have, (so one of the few cars is covered in palm fronds and grass so it look s like a moving tangle of brush when in motion, and nothing when stopped). I’m really insistent on it. the actual transition to this was me laying on a bedroom floor, but the room was now in a hill with a window cut out . I’m laying there, still. there is a form like one of those teeth or menace just outside the flimsy curtain. be still. don’t talk. don’t turn on anything electrical. After time it passes. But my (partner?) lady is growing tired of it and me lol. she argues its passed time to build and sing and leaves me on that floor still not daring to draw breath. Me and and others. so she goes, and I cant stop it, or convince otherwise. Well the island was beautiful, the stone pillar hills of china, the deep blue of the Caribbean, orange groves on plateaus of stone rising from a sparkling blue sea. everything wild, park like but like a garden of Eden. Roads that were part of the earth, not cut into it. Food from the branches and a area that was small, varied, and infinite like gods garden. And a doom still present. Before I was hiding, we did use the radio and satellites to communicate. This group and that rebuilding their worlds...you know how it is, one group has some military, or another some great leaders or thinkers or philosophers among them so they think they have the wisdom to set the way forward. and they debate and politic and define the reality of what needs to happen in the space between their positions. which seems dumb. I guess I stopped trying to debate and argue or temper that, and would hide when the eyes were looking for us. Our group was the smallest, maybe a dozen people, and spread across the Eden archipelago. The first glimpse I had of the doom, other then the gaze outside the window that petrified me, was a great foot flattening a beautiful wild orchard of oranges and bananas on a pillar that rose from the sea. the whole thing smashed down. although now the leg was invisible. so I grabbed and those four or five of the dozen that were closest and took the leaf car and went deep into the jungle. Were it wasn’t so park like and more like a wild jungle. not far as you measure things, just into the brambles and scary that’s always right there if you look a little off the path and straight ahead. as I go in, I see the whole world again. points of light winking out. First the technocrats in DC, then Japan, north America in a pattern. Those that were actively communicating and most centralized winking out first. something was slowly moving from one spot to another and destroying/ending all there. As I suspected, we weren’t out of the woods, this was the mop up. The military guys thought they could fight but they winked out first. or the builders thought they could build walls and domes....they were next. the peaceful thought they could sing love and goodwill. they were taken out too. By the patterns I could see we would be one of the last to be taken care of. the smallest and least organized. It wasn’t the great stone world beast this time. They looked like ufo's. but they weren’t. they were solid mineral, descending and wiping out each spot where people were left, from space, in a pattern. they weren’t the same as the great stone world beast. they were cleansing after his passage...maybe to starve him who knows. the world beast cat of stone was still in the world, but smaller, and invisible, but still looking and squashing orchards. maybe (I thought after it was done) they were wiping out the people so the beast was destroyed...couldn’t live without the people to create him. I see the time left is maybe days as I experience it in that Eden. So im back in the jungle. I think must go deeper. In the thickest darkest part of the jungle their are more caves. So we five go in (im not even the boss) the caves get dark and damp and scary, but I grope forward. deeper. underground. how deep does one need to be to be beyond those ships coming, or the bests footprints? Never deep enough, to shallow. deeper. Although not physically. We came to a cavern. in the center of it was a temple. Pre Mayan maybe. Maybe the construction of the civilizations that faded out in Polynesia. seemed more like Polynesia in stone then Mayan. but it wasn’t any of them exactly. wasn’t huge but it was solid, in the cave. So we entered the temple...just big rooms, full of rivulets here for blood, fire pits there, damp and slick with age and time. In the central chamber...there was a slightly raised stone with holes. The one that first left (I believe...the companion) told me not to step on it, I would be trapped and die. But as im want to do, I tripped onto it and tried to sneak away before anyone noticed. The whole temple wobbled back and forth, and I got yelled at. then it began to descend. the whole temple was on a central stone shaft like an elevator...it was resting underground, but could go all the way to the surface too. But now it was descending....deeper and deeper into the netherworld, into darkness. Riding a pillar of obsidian. that part I tripped on with holes raised to be an alter...there were old hemp ropes at the ends. "See, said the companion, this is where the princes were tied as they were sacrificed and sent to the land of the dead". imp not so sure her perspective is quite right. The temple comes to a rest, and we leave. "do you smell the cooked flesh of the sacrifices from times before she chides me" but I don’t smell it. I look a t the alter and see it was used to send princes for healing, not consumption, although maybe that was part of it in this place. Its a deep inner swamp. no trees, muck and green algae and dead sticks of a forest. With monsters and demons? I look straight in. I see two horrible forms coming to eat the sacrificed meat they must feed on? I look a gain. sees them! and laughs and runs out and hugs them. They a rent monsters, they are friends, like things from spore, monsters from imagination who are guides or friends. Safe. There is food too, in the deep swamp, not as good looking as in the Eden. But the swamp is an Eden too, a deep inverse place as full s life and beauty, although the beauty is pretty slimy and gross if you live in the top garden. lol. The temple would take the sacrificed down here....and they would die and be born and walk into it. Death? the temple transitioned from alive to dead and back seamlessly? I didn’t have time to think, I kind of knew what it was, even when told no it wasn’t. I left with his giant pupa slime friends, and the others with him, and desperately rode the temple back up to Eden. Down there was the only place to be safe. Alive in the land of "death". Or the womb....whatever lots of perceptions I didn’t dwell on in the action. I rode the temple all the way to the top...but only made one little door pop up into the jungle. I went to gather the other dozen. They were spread out, here and there hiding. I looked to the sky. the ships were here. The ships like solid sea shells or sand dollars. They were dropping bombs or asteroids or something that looked like pearls. it would mineralize and sterilize the surface for a long time. but I saw them fall in slow motion. One person found me and I sent them to wait by the alter for the others incase I didn’t make it in time. I thought about he viability of humanity, a dozen people...not enough for genetic diversity....and he laughed, and pointed me to one lady coming from the forest. Italian? Indian? Eskimo? south American? all of them in one. in each of the twelve left. one person a race of dna? I was pressed for time. I don’t know if I gathered the rest of the twelve. the calcium pearl bombs energy were falling in slow motion, the sky was full of the shell ships. I think the world beast was coming too. lived from the last twelve. I didn’t see if I succeeded or failed, some were safe below, the rest it was a cliffhanger. At the point I left the temple to gather the lost ones, those on the surface still, I woke, the last thing I looked at was a sky full of a thousand falling pearls or seeds. > A thread for some of my archived dreams. - Senear - 11-22-2011 http://www.youtube.com/wa...SH8g&feature=related DAREST THOU NOW O SOUL. |