Robbin' The Hood

    

A most welcomed thief

    The most peculiar thing happened in the dream this morning. Firstly, I had a short dream before waking up at 12:30 AM; even though I remembered it when I woke up, this morning another one came through and overshadowed it completely. What was so odd about the one from this morning is the location - my home here on the outskirts of Charlotte. Usually my dreams are located in NYC or the fictional Chicago (I've NEVER visited) and save for a few random dreams that happened here this one made me feel uneasy and defenseless.

    I'm in bed asleep during the dream, and wake up. I check my apple watch and the time is 4:45 This is happening in the dream, I checked my app this morning and I was asleep at the time - in the middle of a dream... and open my security cam app to check for movement outside - something didn't feel right. There is a man walking in-between mine and my neighbors house and he is carrying several stalks of my wife's Canna Lily's - this pisses me off that thieves are ripping out the garden. One thing I didn't notice while watching the clip was the camera angle was wrong, but the night vision displayed correctly on screen. Light was coming through my bedroom door I step out and my son is playing video games with a few of his friends When I went to bed last night he WAS in the living room alone playing on his PS5 - I ask him "Didn't you hear the alert that someone was outside?" my son responds "We can't do anything, they have a bunch of people with attack dogs with them..." I grumble to myself and take a look. Sure enough there were several pick-up trucks out front and one parked in the backyard on my hill, several massive and scary looking Pit Bull Terriers kept all of the neighbors at bay while their masters continue ripping up plants and tossing them in the back of their trucks. These dogs are charcoal gray with spiked collars and massive heads. At least five massive dogs that were either from the same litter or clones. 

    Looking out of the back sliding door I was tempted to engage the guy parked up on the hill, but one of the dogs jumped at me through the exposed glass - menacing me to back away with deep throaty barks while in the defensive stance. My first thought was this is the kind of situation that I need a gun... The dream knew that I don't have a firearm at home for protection. These thieves were pulling up every bush and decorative plant they could find. I watch as they pull the flowering bushes from my neighbors porch tossing them into the trucks out front. Finally when they're done uprooting the two houses the dogs jumped up into the back of the truck bed and passenger seat while their masters clamber back into the trucks. I run out to confront them as they are pulling away. My neighbor is crying that her garden is trashed. "What gives you the right to terrorize people in their own homes!" I ask the long haired guy in the passenger seat wearing a John Deere trucker hat. He casually looks at me and says "Nobody cain't really do nothin'... " in a southern accent. The truck peels out. With nothing I could do or say I shout out "Oh so I'm going to call you Robbin Hood!" comically out of frustration. I'm thinking to myself "Why didn't anyone think to call the cops?"

    The dream ends and I wake up checking the time on my apple watch it's 5:05 AM and I'm fully aware of the dream.  For the most part, this dream seemed to happen in real-time, aligned with time in the waking world.

Council of Aunties / Library on Fire

   

Morgan Museum (Without Permission)

    My long post from several days ago was a release. It felt good to listen to words gather in my head, the beats and rhythm of the story I was trying to remember carried those words to my fingers that began obediently tapping out the narrative of that morning’s adventure. The day after was another blank night…dreamless. If I had been dreaming, there was full acceptance on my part, nothing out of the ordinary was able to bring me forward into consciousness. Maybe I accepted the weirdness of it all, acceptance however leads to a good nights sleep.

    Yesterday morning was more of the same, nothing unusual to report. I woke up several times as is the norm for me - one will be the bathroom break around 1:15am and the rest will be the release of a dream. Around 5am I released again and woke up, nothing came back with me so I decided that the gift of an extra few minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt - it was Saturday morning and I can try my best to make it to six. It doesn’t take me long to fall into a dream, but wakefulness was fighting me. The dream was one of those “Flash Dreams” that I’ve reported many times, a talent I noticed when sitting bored at work. The mere act of closing my eyes and relaxing is all I need.

~~~

    I’m in a meeting room, or a proper dining room with a kitchen visible from the end of the table that I was seated, not at the head but the first chair to the right of the place of honor. This trope, the boardroom or council table has been repeated in my dreams - one of my earlier dreams was one I met with the dream version of the “Illuminati” or “The Cabal” or those in power who run the show. The council that I was seated at this time was another group of people that if gathered, hold immeasurable power in the community they represent. I’m talking of course of the Council of Aunties. Strong black women ranging in age from the 40’s to 60’s having discourse over a meal. My perspective wasn’t clear. Was I a spirit dropping in to see and hear? Since I was seated my role must have been as one of the Aunties, I didn’t check my hands because the discussion was serious, heated at times but nearing the end - I was enthralled by the power of these women…my voice wasn’t needed. Someone got up to see what the hold-up was with the cake. An Auntie closest to the kitchen doorway goes inside to have a few polite words with the Chef, who is wearing all-white, topped off with the Toque Blanche. The cake was done, a three tiered affair with no embellishments - just plain white frosting edged to perfection. Before the cake could be brought out, I lifted out of the dream into wakefulness.

~~~

    This morning was slightly different there was more imagery and interaction. I was in a city walking around without any companion this time, a feeling of homelessness came over me, as if I were trying to find some shelter within the confines of this vast metropolis. This felt like Pseudo-Manhattan. A commotion of sirens sounded out an emergency of unknown origin, the echos through the concrete canyons caught my attention. Continuing my journey I saw several fire trucks speed toward what I sensed to be the Library, the fire was contained inside but growing exponentially. Luckily the fire was being put out before major damage totally destroyed the building. There would be loss, but not total. Being desperate to find a simple small area to bed for the night led me to have the idea to enter the basement levels of the Library. There I thought I could find shelter in a small closet or near a dark corner in the boiler room or maintenance shack. I crept into an opened doorway that led down into the darkened basement, stealthily making my way in the gloom, this part of the massive building was not being affected by the fire. The muffled sound of emergency personnel made it down to me and got further away as I went deeper. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, one would think the electricity was out but fire had not affected the electrical system. I found what I was looking for, a small unlocked room filled with carts and old books. Bingo! Storage room for the win! I was unpacking my bed roll and about to make my nest for the night behind two of the carts when a voice from outside the room startled me. The caretaker making rounds spotted me in the beam of his flashlight “Hey you, you’re not supposed to be down here!” Embarrassed, I quickly picked up my bundle - decided against telling a sob-story to play upon any merciful consideration for a “Only just one night then I’ll be gone” scenario. Caught in the act, I left the way I came. Back out in the city streets with no prospects for the night, I had to find a park or alley (not the safest of options) to catch a minimum of three hours of rest so I can keep moving.

    The dream manifested two people that I recognize. Asking me what I was doing (obviously my sad-state made the inquiry awkward) they offered shelter to me that I should wait with them. Soon after a yellow late model car pulls up with another person I know from work as the driver. He was happy to see me and the couple jumped in the back seat that was filled with stuff. The woman actually sat into a large plastic bin, her legs pointing up out of the top. I get into the passenger side front of this small car and we pull off. The ride was impossible to handle from my perspective - the driver wasn’t very good and kept stopping by slamming his breaks - several times almost rear-ending other cars at the stop lights. I tried to reason with him “Maybe you should slow down a little before slamming the brakes.” I thought to myself that the weight of the passengers and all of the junk in the back seat might be too much for the breaks on this old car. About the third or fourth time he slammed the breaks I couldn’t take anymore and just woke up.

Datsun 510 (Without Permission)

Church Reading / The Plasma Gun / I Fucked Up

     

Me and Alexis late 80’s on a night walk

    Yesterday I went through my Twitter (X) posts going back to January, looking for evidence to support my theory that I had been losing the ability of dream recall. What I discovered was that there was a pattern:   I’m dreaming at least half the month and mentioned dreams eighty-four times over the past six months. This left me 100 days of rest. There is nothing wrong with my dream recall, just my passion for writing them down had been slowed by my recent health concerns. I then ran a scenario where if I had been dreaming at this same rate for the past five years and creating blog posts that averaged at least 2K words - I would be at 1,680,000 words - that caught me by surprise, and quite frankly scared me. Scary in the sense that it has always been in the back of my mind that delving into my own psyche daily and reconstructing each scenario to the best of my ability would drive me into madness. 

~~~~

    The first dream woke me up and I almost lost the thread, this had been happening lately but if I had caught each of the dreams I couldn’t remember - I would probably have had only eighty-five days of rest (See paragraph above).

~~~~

    In the dream, I was riding in a car with my wife at night in the winter-time. We arrive at a parking lot, the snow had been cleared off to the sides so that cars could park. Before even arriving, I was protesting the fact that it had snowed and there shouldn’t even be a service going on - my wife ever the trooper kept driving without a word. The world we were in was darker than normal, maybe rural or a different time-frame where street lights weren’t spaced as closely as in a modern city. Our destination turns out to be a church, my wife and I join the ‘mass’ of people entering the building. The significance of the snow outside determined what I was wearing, a thick woolen overcoat over my suit and a hat (I don’t wear Fedoras) we were milling about waiting our turn to put or garments into the coat room. A parishioner who was part of this evenings mass came up to my wife and I, handing me the reading I had committed to making. Puzzled, I looked to my wife and she reminded me that I was asked to do so. Really I didn’t remember. So my wife decided to join the rest of the congregation in the main part of the church while I shuffled up to the chancel to have a seat. I could at least practice the reading so that nerves wouldn’t mess up my pacing. Looking down at the prepared section of notes, I found my part outlined but had difficulty understanding the words. A bible passage was floating through my mind at this point and I was trying to will them to become clearer for me on the page. Like many times in dreams concentrating on the page and words only draws me out of the current dream and deposits me into another.

    I’m in the new dream. Confusion because I’m not in the church anymore, but in a room where my son is helping a professor or scientist with a machine they are both constructing. The man my son is helping is from India and he is excited to be nearing the completion of this contraption. They are both adding parts in sequence, tightening nuts with precision until at last the professor barks out to me “Bring me some ice!” I comply, running into the kitchen area and find a clear plastic Dart cup - the 20oz size on a counter and rinse it in the sink. Opening the freezer door the ice-catch is full and I scoop out a generous amount of round bottom cubes. Racing back to the living-room with the ice, the professor motions me to place the ice in the chamber he just exposed by lifting the lid. The ice falls in and there is no reaction - I become mesmerized by the tendrils of cold air that was coming off the ice in the container. The professor closed the lid and pushed me back just in time…

WHAM!!

The sound was like the crack of electricity from a lightning bolt, superheating the air. I was dazed by the power of the machine. The professor was upset, a slight miscalculation and a loose bolt at the base of the machine caused it to tilt upward, firing the beam through the ceiling. We all looked through the hold that had traveled upward past each level near the light fixture on every floor all the way through the roof. On the other side of the room was another part of the machinery that was supposed to catch the energy - the idea was to use this bolt of plasma to start a fusion reaction within a temporal dampening field. Like many scientists before him he had failed, but with a few adjustments he might be able to replicate the experiment. I looked up through the hole again, amazed that the other residents on the floors above weren’t vaporized by the blast. My attention is drawn up through the new opening… I’m being pulled…upward.

I wake up. The dream is fading so I lay still trying to remember… I caught the thread.

~~~~

    The next dream was a bit more confusing even though the identity of my “companion” was revealed this time. Most times there is a shadowy entity off to the periphery, sometimes just to accompany me while I am walking, other times morphing into a person I know or have seen in various media. Alexis was with me, his passing in 2008 greatly affected me - I cried just as much for him as I did for my mother years earlier. Another piece of my heart had broken off with his loss. Yet the hurt I felt wasn’t as much as the arrow he shot through my heart with the breaking off of our friendship - he vowed to never speak to me again, his death only sealed that vow forever. Like we did many times in real life, we were just walking around a random neighborhood at night, without a care in the world. An all night bodega on the corner just ahead signified we were in familiar territory within the confines of NYC. A flat-bed was parked on the sidewalk with a load of cut logs - there wasn’t any conversation going on between Al and I - maybe he was mirroring the feeling of missing these walks as much as I did. 

    A woman who was standing near the load of lumber with a group of men sees us walking up and charges down the slope of the street and chest bumps me to the floor, I fall and scrape my hand - mumbling a few curses trying to pick myself back up off the concrete. Alexis then does something peculiar. Ripping a piece of bark from the logs, he gently wraps it around my left hand like a bandage, taking the gentle care and affection of a nurse. The woman stands in defiance as if she was trying to interrupt the bond I have with Alexis - I didn’t know if she was “Tricky” or M.A.R.T.H.A. 

    Mad about her intention to get my attention, I raised my bark covered fist and gave her the middle finger. This upset my archetype. Maybe it was this kind of behavior from me making admission into the dream world become temporarily revoked? Crossing the street into the park where the trees had been cut down she walked into a stump almost 6ft tall and merged with it, disappearing. I said out loud to Alexis, who still hadn’t spoken a word to me since that fateful break-up years ago… “I FUCKED UP” he replied casually without any feeling “You fucked up.”

    I had to make amends. I crossed the street and was tiptoed with my face into the hollow of the tree speaking into it to the effect of “I’m sorry to have offended you, but you caught me off guard trying to get my attention. You succeeded, let me know how I can make things right” no response from the hollow of the tree as if I expected the deep voice of an ENT to accept my peace offering. This was a lesson. My apologies were as empty as the hollow void of the tree.

    Frustrated I continued up the street with Alexis, knowing he was the King of sweet-talking women whenever they became upset to no resolution - I implored him in the manner of “Star Wars” “Master you must teach me the ways…” he replied using the voice of James Earl Jones “Obie-Wan has taught you well…” perplexing me because I haven’t had a teacher here… Or have I?

    The end of our walk was at hand, he prepared to go back, crossing over the plane into the video-game world; a place I imagine he would have taken up residence in (He was a relentless tactician seeking to master all video games he loved) Taking a step up on a rail-like structure - he jumped through the screen (veil) onto a passing space ship that was inside the game… I almost wanted to follow him. The battle was raging with laser cannons from all of the ships involved - he piloted the craft away deeper into the game matrix. I knew he would win. 

He always does.

~~~~

    I woke up a few minutes after six, Radiation treatment was pushed back in schedule till nine this morning making it easier to have a sit-down and write. It’s almost 12 noon and I’m finishing this up at work. 

Another Tower

     

    There have been several skyscrapers and towers in my dreams, each presenting its own unique puzzle or mystery for me to decipher. This was a building on par with or double the height of the Burj Khalifa. We were tourist, only visiting for the day having to change elevators to continue upward to reach the highest observation decks. We reached one viewing level after having to traverse an obstacle of sorts. The elevator was on the other side of a long drop, so each of us had to shimmy our way across the small ledge, while hugging the marble wall like Indiana Jones or the Fellowship of the Ring. When the elevator door opened we were met with a blast of cyclonic wind - my trepidation was at its peak as several people stepped off to enjoy the view. I was in a panic, knowing that higher up the winds would be unbearable - making our attempt to enjoy the height almost impossible. Sensing my unease, the rest of the group decided that it would be too much for me and we exited the elevator after reaching the top then traveling back down to the level with the obstacle. I’m always the party-poop.

    I was against making the precarious crawl against the building again, even though this first crossing had cured me of my fear of heights. My concern was the safety of the rest of the party who had to make the crossing. I asked “Isn’t there another way past this?” My wife said “Sure, we just have to go through this exit door” pointing to a door to the side that was marked as an “Alarm will sound” so I didn’t want to push the exit bar. A security guard in full “Mall Cop” regalia comes out of nowhere pulling a set of keys from a large ring clipped to his utility belt and lets us through the door. Seeing the guard reminded me the inside of the building reminded me of the mall from so many dreams. We stepped through the doorway and an elevator was being boarded to capacity across the way. We hurried to get on, not knowing how long the wait for another lift would be since there was only the single bank on this level. Next was the comical pushing and squeezing in with others to get as many of us into the elevator car. Someone held the door for us and I supervised several people to turn sideways creating enough room for my wife and I to step inside. My wife gets a call on her phone and steps off the lift - she looks like a 1950’s office worker in a slimming green sequined dress and hair up in a large bun. I was getting upset because we had to wait for her to finish the call on her cell phone. Embarrassed, I apologized for causing the delay. Finally my wife hung up and gave me a look of anger for not being patient and stepped into the lift. The door closes and we begin the decent, packed in like a group of sardines. The whine of the giant motor fading away as our lift slowly makes its way down to the bottom.

I wake up right out of the dream.

A Visit

Note: Edit

This dream was from the end of April 4/22/24, I had my reservations about posting it because it involved two (psychic) people I follow on Twitter, keeping the post in DRAFT up till now - whatever the message was never came into fruition or synchronicity. The only sync I had was in the second dream: the image of someone frying something circular in a frying pan. I encountered that in a dream before. ~

Usually I don’t like mentioning my followers or people I follow on Twitter if I randomly dream about them. I had interactions with two people this morning in separate dreams. The first dream I was in this person’s shop and they were telling me about today being one of the most profitable making over $2746.00 or a number close to it. A wind storm kicks up outside and she excuses herself to interact with a nature spirit made of wind blown live branches and leaves that accumulated just outside her establishment.

The second dream I was in this persons home. She decided to cook, placing a large cast-iron skillet on the stovetop and began heating up two pancakes or two flour tortillas. 

These dreams came at around 4:10 this morning and I didn’t want to post them or their names on twitter. It’s 8:16am and I just wanted to time-stamp these dreams.

Both of these women are remarkably talented in the world of psychical arts, both on the east Northeast and have the same first name.

New Moon in June

    

I’m not sure my journey through the dream space is one completely controlled by my unconscious at times – but for reasons of safety, there is no comfort in writing off the cause of my journey on simplistic conscious imagination. This would only constitute vanity on my part. Most of my writings have delved into the reasons the subconscious/unconscious mind is not the main architect or creator of the vast media played out during the nocturnal rest period necessary for my conscious self. When we remove “I" from the equation (or the No-I) and obliterate the vainglorious misconception that our conscious mind is in charge of the random, sometimes chaotic and completely frustrating world that awaits us nightly – we can then begin to listen and accept the metaphorical imagery and language being utilized by our internal “controllers" in hopes we can begin to decipher the entirety of the messages we receive based on the kaleidoscopic tower of riddles and clues we can barely perceive.

    Our own life-force is a step (maybe several) above this mortal representation we deal with daily. The conscious associated with our mortality has enough to deal with when it comes to our daily associations, hang-ups, fears, and potential for success as well as defeats. Based on what we THINK we know; the dream world might be a mockery or mimic-like ability of the mind that is attempting to create its own reality by borrowing what it needs from our conscious functionality. Dreams would be even more a garbled mess if the imagery were not consistent with our daily life to some degree. (Familiarity keeps us interested in the dream) Not all dreams can sooth and relax our mental activity – sometimes they mirror our present situations or bring light to darker emotions we strive to push beyond the curtain or throw into the closet to be dealt with...never. Emotional imbalance may be a key component or fuel for the engine inside our mind that sparks dreams after we have reached the tipping point or overload of the reality we can't handle. Gradually these imbalanced thoughts manifest into our consciousness as other forms of mental instability. If this would be the case then it would be safe to say that dreaming, while confusing and sometimes scary is rather cathartic, allowing our minds to siphon off these imbalances or instability, thus preventing these difficult thoughts from creeping into our conscious from the subconscious or unconscious – when the other side can't cope.

There may be an unknown component, an alliance of sorts that functions without our knowledge. Symbiotic at the very least, this duality or triumvirate experience happens behind the scenes – a spiritual confluence of modalities balanced by the rhythm of our vibratory existence. Just as the sheath of a nerve can wear away or become damaged by injury – this spirit-sense becomes worn away, causing an imbalance that can upend the very nature of our being. The physical body was not meant to carry this burden forever. If previous incarnations of man had greater longevity, the ability must have been removed because of abuse and misuse. I believe the physical clock was shortened for eternity because of this.

    Why then should our conscious mind become involved in the dream world at all? This silent partnership might rely on the frequent exchange of mentality from both parts – cross-engagement (one into the other) a literal self-check mode for the psyche. Both parties being imaginative or possessing the ability to create ideas in their own respective realities. But is our mental doppelganger our true self? We might be surprised if there was another layer or dimension where the conductors orchestrate our position in the universe based on the path we agreed upon at the beginning – concurrently satisfying the covenant drawn up by the metaphysical architect of all realities.

    The fact remains however, the human mind is helpless in the attempt to condense the spiritual essence into a line of thought relative to a humanistic understanding – we cannot solve the unsolvable. We should step back and marvel in awe at the beauty, complexity, horror, and the simplicity of the master plan because not only does it involve the visible and knowable, but the invisible and unknowable as well. Even if we have breached the boundaries of the atomic world and are closer to understanding a path to the quantum reality, there still might be several levels of hidden truth we might never reach. Can that be what we’re missing...THE TRUTH?

Even the concept of what is true and untrue becomes mired by too much thought. In the end, we are faced with the reality and unreality of participating in the dreams of sleep and of consciousness.