I always feel the need to reiterate that for every dream or experience I post about, there are at least (nowadays) five others I do not. So only when the dream stands out and bothers my waking experience do I transcribe it to get it out of my head and into the world. Typically that is when it lingers in my mind with nudging urgency as if to say, "I should be told." Most of my dreams nowadays center on my efforts to begin a polyamorous lifestyle, showing me perspectives from those parties and families involved, and sorting out my concerns with new ideas and approaches. When a topic is able to rip through all that interference, it must be significant.
In this daytime dream from March 26th, 2014, catching a few zz's while my son slept, I dreamed I walked into the lair of a particular group of evil. It's a large space with low ceilings, previously a warehouse floor. It's white, everything is white, but the brightness is variable between inner spaces. One standing group will have a shadowy brightness, while another just a few feet to their right in the center of the room is lit with natural lighting.
I walk into this surprisingly white building with my dog on leash. Cartoonish white ice cream trucks are facing away from me, side by side against the back wall in anticipation of something to happen. Some scheme they had been planning for a long time was finally going to be hatched and they wanted front seats for the show. Their butts practically stuck up in the air above them with how intensely they watched crammed together at what looked to be me to be a solid wall. I couldn't figure out what they were looking at. The wall must have been transparent to them. My sense was they were watching unsuspecting humans going about their physical lives until they suddenly fell ill. I saw faceless people walking casually, and suddenly hold their stomachs and collapse to the ground. Some died, some were seriously ill. The animated trucks were peering into the physical world. They belonged to some fast food corporation.
Showing posts with label blood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blood. Show all posts
Feb 14, 2014
Dream Experiments to Uncover Truth about Red Grid Mark Phenomenon, Part 2
Call and Response Dream Question posed after Skype interview
with Michael and consent for joint dreaming exercise, January 29th, 2014: "Who or what came into my room on the morning of
Dec. 2nd 2013, and what purpose was the electric field on my brain used
for?"
Dream: (Story length. Never a simple answer with these.)
I'm part of a small group of
college aged men and women with vibrant personalities and energy. We all live
in a dorm, school-like community together. We enjoy our time together, playing,
teasing, talking, gossiping about crushes within the group. An entire dream
sequence is entirely devoted to showing me the dynamic of this group, how they
interact and how carefree they are. They are an athletic group, full of life
and arrogance, but they love and look out for one another. We were happily
engrossed in our social interactions. The men joked with each other and
wrestled like boys. The women chatted and nagged the men, hung on one another
like girls do.
I heard 2-3 of the men of our group talking emphatically
about plans to change some perspective in our society they disagreed with. In
excited bursts of dialogue, they devised the basis for their plan, all the
while still teasing one another about how they phrased something. The details
of the plan were fuzzy to me, but the sense I got was they were hoping to
re-educated and be a voice against some part of the status quo.
Then an image appeared superimposed over the scene -- like a forethought or premonition, but as if I've seen it before and the memory was just triggered to resurface -- of the smallest member of their pack lying dead at what was the first casualty in a terrible war. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Then I saw the scene expand and all of them, all my men, and a hundred more, our entire student community, lay slaughtered on a battlefield they didn't belong on.
Then an image appeared superimposed over the scene -- like a forethought or premonition, but as if I've seen it before and the memory was just triggered to resurface -- of the smallest member of their pack lying dead at what was the first casualty in a terrible war. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Then I saw the scene expand and all of them, all my men, and a hundred more, our entire student community, lay slaughtered on a battlefield they didn't belong on.
Sep 28, 2013
The Worm Connection
Summary: Manmade flying object confiscated by reckless locals; Swamp water transfers worm-like creatures that burrow in my skin, and the effort to expel them from my body; Invading worm creatures Metaphorical analysis of meaning of water throughout my dreams, followed up with plan to induce particular dream imagery that would validate my theory.
Nights Sept 27/28th 2013 and many other dreams referenced not recorded elsewhere
I step onto a low dock over a swamp. It's after dusk so the sky holds faint light over the horizon, but the sky is mostly purple and dark blue with many clouds. There may have been a rainstorm earlier that day. My attention is toward the sky, so details of the swamp are vague. An orange star-like object moves up from the horizon faster than a plane is capable of. I feel like it responds to me, is aware of me watching it. When it does obtuse angle shifts, I suspect it's more than any known object. I wait for the giveaway sudden dart across the sky like a shooting star, which UFC technology is recognized for because modern science (or at least what's available to public knowledge) is not capable of doing yet. It darts a few hands, then slows quickly. Odd. It wasn't as fast as I expected. Is this not an extraterrestrial craft? It changes course to come down to me. Other people by now have noticed it and have come to the dock. Two civilian men are standing in the swamp where it hovers down to. It looks like a truck with a large camper, except it has plane wings and a metal cage over top with a satellite dish, and is 1' wide across the bumper x 2' long. On the hood and on either side of the vehicle reads NASA. Oh. It's a drone. The locals standing with me are bothered by the object. One grabs it out of the air where it hovers to the side of the dock just above the water. It's engine whirs as the propeller on top in the cage contraption no longer holds the weight or can dictate it's position. Whomever is controlling it is obviously trying to get the drone loose. I tell them to leave it alone, that it's an experiment for NASA and means us no harm, that someone worked hard on it and its not our place to claim ownership. The man holding it speaks sarcastically at the truck. A woman's voice returns, its controller and likely its engineer. "Let it go please." The woman says over a radio somewhere in the mess of rods on this device. "See?" I tell them, "Someone will be looking for it."
"Oh, then we should make sure it's working properly for her." Another man says as he pulls on some tubes. "Do you think this helps?" He says carelessly. I argue, and reach for it to try and pry it away, but I get knocked down in the swamp. My arm makes contact with the surface. I quickly stand up and study my arm. The water was known to be infected. The locals wear tall boots when they have to wade through it. Tiny brown worm creatures are burrowing furiously under my skin. There's no blood, they are only a centimeter or two long and no thicker than a few strands of hair. I wipe my arm with my other hand to prevent more from disappearing into my skin. I know a few already made it in. I'm no longer concerned with the device, I have to get out because they are swarming the bottom of my legs already.
The remedy was to put the body part under hot water. Somehow it suffocates them or is too intense that they escape by leaving the skin of the host. Except when they do the hot water directly on them kills them. I watch in horror and relief as many more than I thought had made their way in are climbing out of my arm. Some are escaping by moving further up the arm. I have to adjust the location of the water. I even, at some point wrap turnoquits to cut off circulation and access to the rest of my body. I repeat on the other arm, again, finding many more than I thought had entered falling out. Still no blood or holes when they evacuated. I only saw the bumps of them crawling under the skin and the progression of their bodies climbing out before they fell into the sink. I had to do the same with my legs, the worst infected. I drew a hot bath and conceptualized how I would tie my upper legs and sit in the water without lowering too much of myself. I didn't want them to touch any other part of me. They couldn't climb out of the water, they needed that medium for some reason. So only what touched the water (outside of my skin) could be accessed. The hot water may not be killing them enough, just expelling them from the skin.
The Worm Theme
Of all the recurring themes (see also post featuring worms attack in desert that were snakes in the forest, but worms in the desert, and human-arthropod hybrid, and post where I almost sit on a grub, also encounter with deviant alien worm creature in small UFO not previously recorded on this blog, and finally see posts under marker DS1 detailing my theory about a blood-dependent parasite that feeds on humans and related dreams in this series) I've dealt with over this last year, this one may be the worst for me. I cringe at the notion of worms that want to crawl into my body, but for some reason it's important enough to keep coming up. My working theory is that this theme represents disease, or virus because it seems triggered by content from my waking life featuring virus outbreak. A kind of blood disease? (See dream post about retro-virus at the end. I haven't actually recorded this one, ugh. Too many. Understand that I still have recorded dreams from November and December 2012, and apparently that one from January 2013. Bear with me on that. I dream every night and don't always record them, though I remember them, and find I have to describe them first in order to reference them when they become relevant later.)
I can't escape the presence of water as the medium for transference of these buggers. I've been asking lately to my dream guides, "What happens when I submerge in the water", metaphorically I am asking why haven't I been depicted under water, only swimming on top of the surface or above. What does it mean for me to be submerged? How does that translate to my effort to travel body and spirit connected in the ether to other realms and worlds? The answer of this dream suggests I would pick up a kind of spiritual parasite if I were to do so. This idea has been communicated to me before, the risk of traveling through the spirit realm without an anchor in the physical. There are different regions in water and different regions on land; there are different regions in the spiritual plane in either situation of being tethered to the land, and free-floating in or under the water. So if I even tough a tainted, or dangerous region of the spiritual plane, even with a shallow depth from the land, I can contract a 'spirit virus.' I believe it's a caution to not blindly jump away from my safety tether, which is my body on the physical realm. I need to know where I'm going. Well, how do I know where I can go though? Can I swim in a tank with my friendly seal brothers, instead of open ocean? A tank that is regulated and maintained by loving, tethered groundskeepers? I've seen many swimming pools and closed play structures over the water, and large showers and baptismal-like tubs. Could that have all been cluing me in as to what kind of closed water source I need in order to do the kind of travel I want? In one recent dream I was hopping in and out of swimming pools in a training exercise running away from my mates. They had to catch me, but rarely dared to jump in the pools. They preferred to stay on land, and when they did jump only one of them did in any pool and they were slower than I could swim. I perhaps have the potential to move swiftly and acrobatically in and out of body-spirit realms. This makes sense given my explorations into how it would be possible to identify anything solid while traveling as non-local energy. I dreamed it was like running alongside a large pipeline in an closed facility. I stopped when I noticed a toy I wanted to pick up to keep for my son. In other words, you can see what you're passing by, just at a tremendously faster pace and processing power.
The only tank dream I had with my assigned seal friends, they were frozen and drowning. I criticized their caretakers and tried to throw rocks in, but was overcautious about contacting them or the water. The caretakers then unfroze the water and watched me suspiciously, wondering why I was trying to interfere and feeling offended by my assumption that they were doing a lousy job of monitoring the animals conditions. Who can I have represent the caretakers so I can trust them to perform their job well? Any marine biologists depicted in movies like Free Willy, and Andre. I should rewatch them for fresh content if I have any hope of this working.
Nights Sept 27/28th 2013 and many other dreams referenced not recorded elsewhere
I step onto a low dock over a swamp. It's after dusk so the sky holds faint light over the horizon, but the sky is mostly purple and dark blue with many clouds. There may have been a rainstorm earlier that day. My attention is toward the sky, so details of the swamp are vague. An orange star-like object moves up from the horizon faster than a plane is capable of. I feel like it responds to me, is aware of me watching it. When it does obtuse angle shifts, I suspect it's more than any known object. I wait for the giveaway sudden dart across the sky like a shooting star, which UFC technology is recognized for because modern science (or at least what's available to public knowledge) is not capable of doing yet. It darts a few hands, then slows quickly. Odd. It wasn't as fast as I expected. Is this not an extraterrestrial craft? It changes course to come down to me. Other people by now have noticed it and have come to the dock. Two civilian men are standing in the swamp where it hovers down to. It looks like a truck with a large camper, except it has plane wings and a metal cage over top with a satellite dish, and is 1' wide across the bumper x 2' long. On the hood and on either side of the vehicle reads NASA. Oh. It's a drone. The locals standing with me are bothered by the object. One grabs it out of the air where it hovers to the side of the dock just above the water. It's engine whirs as the propeller on top in the cage contraption no longer holds the weight or can dictate it's position. Whomever is controlling it is obviously trying to get the drone loose. I tell them to leave it alone, that it's an experiment for NASA and means us no harm, that someone worked hard on it and its not our place to claim ownership. The man holding it speaks sarcastically at the truck. A woman's voice returns, its controller and likely its engineer. "Let it go please." The woman says over a radio somewhere in the mess of rods on this device. "See?" I tell them, "Someone will be looking for it."
"Oh, then we should make sure it's working properly for her." Another man says as he pulls on some tubes. "Do you think this helps?" He says carelessly. I argue, and reach for it to try and pry it away, but I get knocked down in the swamp. My arm makes contact with the surface. I quickly stand up and study my arm. The water was known to be infected. The locals wear tall boots when they have to wade through it. Tiny brown worm creatures are burrowing furiously under my skin. There's no blood, they are only a centimeter or two long and no thicker than a few strands of hair. I wipe my arm with my other hand to prevent more from disappearing into my skin. I know a few already made it in. I'm no longer concerned with the device, I have to get out because they are swarming the bottom of my legs already.
The remedy was to put the body part under hot water. Somehow it suffocates them or is too intense that they escape by leaving the skin of the host. Except when they do the hot water directly on them kills them. I watch in horror and relief as many more than I thought had made their way in are climbing out of my arm. Some are escaping by moving further up the arm. I have to adjust the location of the water. I even, at some point wrap turnoquits to cut off circulation and access to the rest of my body. I repeat on the other arm, again, finding many more than I thought had entered falling out. Still no blood or holes when they evacuated. I only saw the bumps of them crawling under the skin and the progression of their bodies climbing out before they fell into the sink. I had to do the same with my legs, the worst infected. I drew a hot bath and conceptualized how I would tie my upper legs and sit in the water without lowering too much of myself. I didn't want them to touch any other part of me. They couldn't climb out of the water, they needed that medium for some reason. So only what touched the water (outside of my skin) could be accessed. The hot water may not be killing them enough, just expelling them from the skin.
The Worm Theme
Of all the recurring themes (see also post featuring worms attack in desert that were snakes in the forest, but worms in the desert, and human-arthropod hybrid, and post where I almost sit on a grub, also encounter with deviant alien worm creature in small UFO not previously recorded on this blog, and finally see posts under marker DS1 detailing my theory about a blood-dependent parasite that feeds on humans and related dreams in this series) I've dealt with over this last year, this one may be the worst for me. I cringe at the notion of worms that want to crawl into my body, but for some reason it's important enough to keep coming up. My working theory is that this theme represents disease, or virus because it seems triggered by content from my waking life featuring virus outbreak. A kind of blood disease? (See dream post about retro-virus at the end. I haven't actually recorded this one, ugh. Too many. Understand that I still have recorded dreams from November and December 2012, and apparently that one from January 2013. Bear with me on that. I dream every night and don't always record them, though I remember them, and find I have to describe them first in order to reference them when they become relevant later.)
I can't escape the presence of water as the medium for transference of these buggers. I've been asking lately to my dream guides, "What happens when I submerge in the water", metaphorically I am asking why haven't I been depicted under water, only swimming on top of the surface or above. What does it mean for me to be submerged? How does that translate to my effort to travel body and spirit connected in the ether to other realms and worlds? The answer of this dream suggests I would pick up a kind of spiritual parasite if I were to do so. This idea has been communicated to me before, the risk of traveling through the spirit realm without an anchor in the physical. There are different regions in water and different regions on land; there are different regions in the spiritual plane in either situation of being tethered to the land, and free-floating in or under the water. So if I even tough a tainted, or dangerous region of the spiritual plane, even with a shallow depth from the land, I can contract a 'spirit virus.' I believe it's a caution to not blindly jump away from my safety tether, which is my body on the physical realm. I need to know where I'm going. Well, how do I know where I can go though? Can I swim in a tank with my friendly seal brothers, instead of open ocean? A tank that is regulated and maintained by loving, tethered groundskeepers? I've seen many swimming pools and closed play structures over the water, and large showers and baptismal-like tubs. Could that have all been cluing me in as to what kind of closed water source I need in order to do the kind of travel I want? In one recent dream I was hopping in and out of swimming pools in a training exercise running away from my mates. They had to catch me, but rarely dared to jump in the pools. They preferred to stay on land, and when they did jump only one of them did in any pool and they were slower than I could swim. I perhaps have the potential to move swiftly and acrobatically in and out of body-spirit realms. This makes sense given my explorations into how it would be possible to identify anything solid while traveling as non-local energy. I dreamed it was like running alongside a large pipeline in an closed facility. I stopped when I noticed a toy I wanted to pick up to keep for my son. In other words, you can see what you're passing by, just at a tremendously faster pace and processing power.
The only tank dream I had with my assigned seal friends, they were frozen and drowning. I criticized their caretakers and tried to throw rocks in, but was overcautious about contacting them or the water. The caretakers then unfroze the water and watched me suspiciously, wondering why I was trying to interfere and feeling offended by my assumption that they were doing a lousy job of monitoring the animals conditions. Who can I have represent the caretakers so I can trust them to perform their job well? Any marine biologists depicted in movies like Free Willy, and Andre. I should rewatch them for fresh content if I have any hope of this working.
Sep 6, 2013
The Other Shade of Reptilian: Part 2 of Sexual Hunger
(See post "Sexual Hunger" for more details leading up to this)
Spiritual Plot, Hunger Fever, and My Handler(s)
Last night I sat outside in the cold aftermath of a rainstorm while my son went to sleep, to decompress, and mourn somehow. Throughout the day people were pointing out to me my tardiness in dates: not checking my phone for messages, not providing ample warning of schedule changes, not turning in application until close to the training dates, not replying to my client until two days before a session, not finishing the story I needed for our session until the day before. Perhaps some of those delays are understandable to the variety of things I manage (notably my son), but it degraded me nonetheless. I cowered meekly, embarrassed that I would be defined as irresponsible or flaky. I explained to each of them as best I could part of the problem that I provide myself flexibility where I can to not overstress about life or live by a clock, like I did for ten years of my life during school. I clarified a few other points for them, depending on my honesty to appeal to their sympathetic natures, but when I sat outside, I let the deep truth spill over me. I am caught up in a complex story which I cannot seem to explain to anyone else in a way that makes sense or catches their interest enough to listen and grant me the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't need their approval through expressed interest if it wasn't for the fact that my own critical mind doubts the reality of my elaborate and unprovable fantasy.
I gave myself permission to write it out as if I were to make an actual evaluation based on the self-evidences I have. Here they are, as bizarre as they sound:
Spiritual Plot, Hunger Fever, and My Handler(s)
Last night I sat outside in the cold aftermath of a rainstorm while my son went to sleep, to decompress, and mourn somehow. Throughout the day people were pointing out to me my tardiness in dates: not checking my phone for messages, not providing ample warning of schedule changes, not turning in application until close to the training dates, not replying to my client until two days before a session, not finishing the story I needed for our session until the day before. Perhaps some of those delays are understandable to the variety of things I manage (notably my son), but it degraded me nonetheless. I cowered meekly, embarrassed that I would be defined as irresponsible or flaky. I explained to each of them as best I could part of the problem that I provide myself flexibility where I can to not overstress about life or live by a clock, like I did for ten years of my life during school. I clarified a few other points for them, depending on my honesty to appeal to their sympathetic natures, but when I sat outside, I let the deep truth spill over me. I am caught up in a complex story which I cannot seem to explain to anyone else in a way that makes sense or catches their interest enough to listen and grant me the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn't need their approval through expressed interest if it wasn't for the fact that my own critical mind doubts the reality of my elaborate and unprovable fantasy.
I gave myself permission to write it out as if I were to make an actual evaluation based on the self-evidences I have. Here they are, as bizarre as they sound:
Sep 3, 2013
Sexual Hunger
Summary: Human female cycle, hormonally induced sex drive having purpose beyond reproduction; Cattle skinning operation; Price for an old debt; blood and alien connections.
Each month for at least one day and night I become sexually hyper with such hormonally driven desire, it's not only distracting, its practically consuming. All my effort is spent keeping it in check. Otherwise, the only cure seems to be screwing anyone and everyone. Either this is the side of the female reproductive cycle that just doesn't get discussed in sex ed, or am I a nymphomaniac. I jokingly refer to it as being "in heat", of the "use it or lose it syndrome" when the conditions of the uterus are right to receive fertilization or else the egg will be expunged (when woman is most fertile; see article on human female estrus new findings). If you were to pack the number of times a typical male supposedly thinks about sex on a daily basis (every 6 minutes, though not substantiated, more as social humor) throughout the month (60/6 =10 times an hour x 16 hours awake =160 x 30 days =4800 times per month) into a 24 hour period, that's the concentration of sexual motivation I feel on this particularly day my cycle. It is insatiable, full-body experience that keeps me awake at night.
Each month for at least one day and night I become sexually hyper with such hormonally driven desire, it's not only distracting, its practically consuming. All my effort is spent keeping it in check. Otherwise, the only cure seems to be screwing anyone and everyone. Either this is the side of the female reproductive cycle that just doesn't get discussed in sex ed, or am I a nymphomaniac. I jokingly refer to it as being "in heat", of the "use it or lose it syndrome" when the conditions of the uterus are right to receive fertilization or else the egg will be expunged (when woman is most fertile; see article on human female estrus new findings). If you were to pack the number of times a typical male supposedly thinks about sex on a daily basis (every 6 minutes, though not substantiated, more as social humor) throughout the month (60/6 =10 times an hour x 16 hours awake =160 x 30 days =4800 times per month) into a 24 hour period, that's the concentration of sexual motivation I feel on this particularly day my cycle. It is insatiable, full-body experience that keeps me awake at night.
Aug 10, 2013
Why are we being Harrassed by Unknown Visitors?
The contact whose case study I posted about in the Red Grid Marks Phenomenon, "Michael", the alias I've assigned him, continues to have levitation and probing experiences at night by a visiting presence. We chat via email or Skype semi-regularly to check in on any progress he's made at changing the dynamics of these experiences that illicit dread and terror in his consciousness. (To read about Michael's case study, see the links for Case Study #1 listed on the Investigations page under the 'Red Grid Marks' heading.)
Discussing with someone the reality of these night-time experiences and the accompanying feelings he unwittingly hides from his everyday relationships has seen minor progress in the level of control he has during the events. Most importantly, he has found a voice to be able to question and speak to his offenders. Our goal together is to determine why it is happening to him, given that this might also provide clues as to the grid marks that appeared on us both, as well as enhance his ability to affect in the unconscious state: comparable to having direct affect in the content or direction of ones dreams, though his experiences are "half awake, half asleep".
Discussing with someone the reality of these night-time experiences and the accompanying feelings he unwittingly hides from his everyday relationships has seen minor progress in the level of control he has during the events. Most importantly, he has found a voice to be able to question and speak to his offenders. Our goal together is to determine why it is happening to him, given that this might also provide clues as to the grid marks that appeared on us both, as well as enhance his ability to affect in the unconscious state: comparable to having direct affect in the content or direction of ones dreams, though his experiences are "half awake, half asleep".
Jul 12, 2013
Red Grid Marks Case Report #3 - My Case, Jennifer
See Investigations Page for a complete list of posts related to the Red Grid Marks phenomenon on this blog, including the two other testimonials of people around the world who have experienced these marks.
My interest in this phenomenon came from personal experience. I awoke from a nap November 27th, 2012, drenched in sweat, which prompted me to take a shower. As I stepped into the stream, and rose my hands to wash my face, I noticed on the heels of both my palms were 2" x 2" inch plus signs of freckle-like red dots. The red dots were subdermal, not raised or indented, but equal level to the skin, and not circular, but honey-comb shaped. Nevertheless, they were arranged in a grid, with each dot equidistant apart. The slants went opposite directions between the two hands. I lined the marks up by bringing my hands together. They were a mirror image of each other that oddly brought my hands together in a praying manner to verify.
My interest in this phenomenon came from personal experience. I awoke from a nap November 27th, 2012, drenched in sweat, which prompted me to take a shower. As I stepped into the stream, and rose my hands to wash my face, I noticed on the heels of both my palms were 2" x 2" inch plus signs of freckle-like red dots. The red dots were subdermal, not raised or indented, but equal level to the skin, and not circular, but honey-comb shaped. Nevertheless, they were arranged in a grid, with each dot equidistant apart. The slants went opposite directions between the two hands. I lined the marks up by bringing my hands together. They were a mirror image of each other that oddly brought my hands together in a praying manner to verify.
Jul 7, 2013
Decisions in Covert Ops
Am I a member of a secret program? Why on Earth would I dream of this, and how could I have put together the content into such an elaborate story as a dream experience? Operations so covert, not even the operatives remember or recognize the mission as having been real.
Night of July 6/7th 2013 -
This dream is retold exactly how my thought processes were in sync to the dream experience. In other words, all the non-dialogue information is real-time observation and thought during the dream.
Night of July 6/7th 2013 -
This dream is retold exactly how my thought processes were in sync to the dream experience. In other words, all the non-dialogue information is real-time observation and thought during the dream.
May 17, 2013
Blood Survival
Summary: Dream as vampire in underground basement of building sworn not to feed on humans; zombie outbreak in floors above, depleting food supply; desperation of hunger and fear of zombies; escape out of invested building to walk empty streets of town by the ocean; kids appear playing and I am relieved to find I am a survivor in a relative paradise; red mark phenomenon connection.
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