| Neighbor Problems | Project August | 2014-06-16 | Elyse | |||||
| Last night I dreamt about one of my neighbors. I’ve never formally met or really talked to the guy or his family, but I have seen them around and waved to them as I passed them on the street. I often sit outside with my husband when he smokes, and in the dream, I was doing just that. I was excited when I saw grey clouds gathering in the sky. Nothing is more soothing than rain to me. I love the sound, the way it brightens the grass and perks up my flowers, but best of all, the way it makes everything smell. I just couldn’t wait! But as I watched the sky, the excitement left me. I noticed that some gray clouds were moving while others were not. Tiny grey puffs of clouds would move to gather into one large puff, instead of all the clouds moving evenly the way that they should. It looked unnatural. Manufactured even. It was very odd. I could feel the wind pick up, and as the sky darkened, I got a bit concerned that there might be a tornado. The area where I live is on very flat land and is an ideal place for such a thing. I was discussing the possibility with my husband, and he didn’t seem concerned. We had lived through Katrina, so this was baby stuff compared to that. Still, I had a bad feeling about SOMETHING. As we sat, I noticed a man in the upper left-hand side of our fence. The fence, in the dream, had been built with an opening, and the man had just walked in and was staring at us. I recognized him as our neighbor. I pointed him out to my husband, and my husband said that he must have needed help or came to visit. Nope. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but our neighbor didn’t look right. He just didn’t feel right. He DID need help, but that wasn’t what he had come into our yard for. Something was very wrong… I begged my husband to come inside with me and lock the door, because our neighbor started walking up to us, and the closer he got, the deeper the sinking feeling in my stomach got. He wasn’t right. I looked at him as he inched across our yard, and saw his hands fall to his sides. He had a knife! I pointed it out to my husband, who said that that knife could have been for anything. I was being paranoid. I paced back and forth on the porch until our neighbor had made it half way across the yard. I couldn’t force my husband to listen to me… and I had a houseful of sleeping boys with me. Apparently, I would have to take matters into my own hands, so I warned the neighbor not to come any closer or I would be forced to shoot him… but he kept walking towards us… so I went inside to get a gun. On the way back out, I shut and locked the boy’s rooms in case anything should happen to me, and then walked out the back door. The man had a gun now too and was pointing his knife at my husband. My husband was trying to talk him down, to no avail, so I pointed my gun at the neighbor. He put his knife away and pointed his gun back at me. I told him that if he walked away now, I would forget the whole thing ever happened. No one had to get hurt tonight, and aside from that, we should all be preparing for a storm. He just laughed. He pointed to the open back door and asked what kind of stuff we had in there. I told him that it was none of his business and kicked the door closed with my foot and asked him to leave again. He took a couple of more steps closer and I asked him if he really wanted to do this. I didn’t want to shoot him. He kept walking closer. It was about this time that I realized that my gun wasn’t even loaded… I was really in a bind now. He walked onto our porch and held his gun maybe an inch from my head, I aimed mine back at his. I was NOT going to back down… I had to make him believe that I meant business. I told him that I could and would shoot. I had three little ones inside and a husband that needed me, he shouldn’t underestimate what I may or may not do just because of what I look like… He said if he shot me first, he wouldn’t have to worry, and I assured him that with my last dying breath, he would NOT make it into the house. Aside from that, what would HIS wife and kids think of him? He lowered his gun and got very upset and started crying. Apparently he and his wife had been having problems, but he wouldn’t say why at first. While he was distracted, I snatched his gun away and demanded his knife. He handed it over and I had my husband check him for any other weapons – he was clean. I gave my husband the other gun, and put mine away. The man asked me to forgive him and I did. I almost felt sorry for him now. I had him come inside (With my husband watching him) and I told the neighbor that because he had threatened my family, I had to call the police. He said he understood. While we waited on the police, I gave him a towel to dry off with and fixed him some hot cocoa as he cried over his family. He had mentioned that he had a drug problem. Well, that certainly explained a lot. His wife was threatening to take his kids and leave him. They had gotten into a big fight and he had taken some drugs to deal with the pain and he said he just snapped. For some reason, he thought my family had been perfect and I just laughed. I don’t think there is any such a thing as a “perfect” family. He had to get over THAT sort of idea. I asked him what kind of drugs he had been taking and he just told me it was a pink pill he got from a hospital. We talked some more, and it dawned on me that I kinda liked this guy, he was ok as long as he wasn’t on drugs. The police came and got him, shortly after that, we were called to return the gun that we had taken from him. The guy worked for the sheriff’s office (Which would explain the car he has in his driveway). I thought this was a bit unfair for whatever reason, but we all loaded up to return the gun to the Sheriff’s Dept. I had my husband run inside to return the weapon. For my own reasons, I prefer not to deal with the sheriffs office… I didn’t trust them. As I waited, the neighbors family knocked on the glass. I thought to myself that she must want to scream and yell at me for having her husband arrested, but I rolled down my window and she thanked me. She was talking very low so that her kids wouldn’t hear her. She apologized for her husband and told me he had a drug problem. I told her I knew and understood. She cried and told me she didn’t know what to do. I told her there wasn’t really anything she COULD do, he had to want to change for himself. If he tried to change for her or their kids, he would always go back to it. She said she needed to see her husband, so I offered to watch her kids while she did that. I gave the kids my kindle to play with while they waited, all of the children (Mine and theirs) played together happily. A little while later, my husband came back inside from the Sheriffs Dept. telling me that they had taken his finger prints and personal information. WTH?! WE weren’t the ones to attack anyone! I thought that I had a right to protect my home! He also told me that the neighbor hadn’t lost his job and would not be jailed. Well, I liked the guy, but that seemed unfair too! As a law enforcement officers, you would think that they would be held to high standards and be punished when they abused the power granted to them to protect the innocent people. I guess that is just the way things are now… I woke up waiting for the children’s mother to return for them… | ||||||||
| Newest at the bottom | ||||||||
| Title | Category | Created | Owner | |||||
| Precipice | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0352 Type: Standard, linear, POV I am an archeological-type character in a race to climb a mountain with the hopes of qualifying for the next expedition and to win the affection of a coveted female. The mountain is heavily forested with layers of moss and fallen trees. On my back, I am carrying a pack and a downhill mountain-bike, with the intention of riding back down the steepest face once we reach the top. After finally making our way through the foliage, we scale an incredibly steep rock face that is lined with huge jagged rocks. Looking down, I smile and think to myself how privileged I am to be here. When we reach the top, our leader (played by a man resembling Richard Dean Anderson), decides to test our wisdom by asking us the identity of the “root stone.” Recognizing this to be a riddle, I ask him if what he is referring to is “even a real object.” He responds that it is. I interject with a remark that all realities are subjective, so the identity of the object will depend on your perspective. The last scene before the dream ends is of my older brother and me, standing on a precipice close to the very top of a steep cliff face, comparing our mountain bikes. I repeat to him that “although we are very privileged to own such bikes, they don’t stand a chance against this hill.” As I say this, two other mountain bikers ride up the hill, apparently at the very end of their own journey. One of them passes so close to me that he splashes me with mud and I feel it searing down my cheek. Heartened by this obvious attempt to rouse my courage, I swing my pack off of my back and rummage for my helmet-mounted video camera to film our descent. | ||||||||
| Mary Grieb | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0506 Type: Flash, spliced, POV I am an experienced member of a road-bike team, riding through a very muddy forest trail and directly competing with the leader of our pack – an incredibly swift and skilled woman. The race has a distinct “downhill” feeling, yet the sight of the trails criss-crossing against the face of a lush, green escarpment makes me almost forget that I’m on a road bike. For the majority of the course, we find ourselves neck and neck, despite both of us knowing that this is only a friendly competition. Following the race, I find myself participating in a follow-up training session with the same woman, whose name is something similar to “Mary Grieb.” The only other description of her that I can remember is that she has tanned skin, laughs a lot and used to race for “Rock Shox.” | ||||||||
| Bank Heist | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0710 Type: Standard, linear, POV My brother has come up with a plan to stage a bank heist at 0300. His goal is to wait for the bank to open, slip in, do his business and slip out before 0345. One of our uncles will be waiting for him to aid in the escape. Amused and interested with this overly-simplistic plan, I decide to join him in the morning. As we sit in his 2004 Corolla in the parking lot outside of the bank (in a plaza), he suddenly decides not to go through with it. Smirking at my own suspicions that this was going to happen, I tell him to drop me off at a house just down the street. Instead, he gets out of the car and suddenly remembers that he needs to pick up something for his wife at the “party store” in the plaza. As we approach the store on foot, the exterior resembles the outside of a sex shop, with liberal use of the colour black and flashing red lights. He enters the store without me, at which point I leave him and take a small staircase to the left. Although my intention is to walk back to the house, I quickly find myself walking in the opposite direction, lost in thought. The weather outside is cold and I am wearing a long-sleeve shirt, toque, black shoes and a long black cloak. When I finally reach another plaza, I check my watch, only to find that the face is at a 90 degree angle from what it should me. An old lady with a medium sized dog approaches me from behind but is careful to make a wide birth upon inspecting my attire. It appears as though she assumes that I am some kind of criminal. I turn the watch face over on my wrist and follow her back down to the street, on my way to the house. About halfway down the street, a man pretending to be a homeless vagrant attempts to distract me at close range and steal my wallet. In the midst of his excessive chatter, I inform him that “I have no wallet” which puzzles him greatly and fuels his own suspicion that I am after the woman in front of me. It appears, however, that the woman is having her own encounter with the vagrant’s accomplice only a few yards ahead of me. After the man makes a successful grab at her purse, I engage in a brief struggle with him. The vagrant informs his friend that I don’t have a wallet and this puzzles him as well. In the confusion, I give the woman back her purse and depart. With only one block left to the house, I turn right into an alley and meet 2 of my uncles who are deep in discussion about the silliness of my brother’s plan. I agree and we crack a few jokes in a different language. | ||||||||
| Yearbook | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0725 Type: Flash, linear, POV At the conclusion of a yearbook committee meeting, we are discussing the best way of signing each other’s books. I suggest that we lend them to our companions for a few days, during which we can prepare our remarks as “homework.” One of my lovely female companions from grade school approaches me with a request to sign her yearbook. Taking it from her, I notice that the entire cover has been decorated in a Christmas theme – complete with Reindeer and blinking red and white Christmas lights around the border. Astonished at this ingenuity, I remark that “[she] must have gotten hers well in advance.” Opening up the front cover, I deduce that the electronics for the lights on the cover must be sandwiched between the first two pages. My suspicions are confirmed upon inspection and I suggest that she could get at them with a pen knife. I also ask her if her father is responsible for the engineering and she says he is. Turning to the third page, I notice that it is almost completely covered in what look like red stamps. Each stamp has a single name and a 3-digit number underneath it. My first and last names are both among them, however, my last name is misspelled with an extra consonant on the end. After asking her what the stamps mean, she does not respond, but gives me a quizzical look. | ||||||||
| Fishy Behaviour | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0823 Type: Flash, linear, POV Following a very short flash dream about meeting my sister in a commercial plaza and asking her about whether or not she has put some thought into her purchase of new golf clubs, I find myself walking down the sidewalk of an unfamiliar street, thinking about the difference between a “real fisherman” and “someone who fakes it.” I discern that the primary difference is in the attitude towards “live bait” and “whether or not they are afraid of doing what’s necessary when the time comes.” Just then, I approach a paunchy old man who is deep in talk about what he has learned about fish behaviour by videotaping fish feeding on live frogs. Attempting to provide a more vivid explanation, he pulls out a live bass and holds it under his left arm. In his right hand, he holds a live frog and allows the bass to take quick bites off of the frog’s body. What the fish doesn’t know however, is that the frog is rigged with a concealed treble hook. The man then explains that “there is a trap set at every level” indicating a strange foam that erupts to prevent the fish from spitting out the bait. At that point he sets the hook into the side of the bass’ mouth. Suddenly, the scene changes, and we are now standing on the edge of a flooded street. Under his right arm, the man holds a rather large pike which he releases into the ½ foot of water. The pike splashes about for a second and then begins to crawl on two alligator-looking hind legs that appear to develop out of nowhere. The man seems to make a big deal about this as he waddles over to the fish and points them out to me saying, “Yeah, all mammals have legs.” I stand on the sidewalk, completely bewildered and thinking to myself “fish don’t have legs.” | ||||||||
| “The Battle of the Machines” | Project August | 2014-06-17 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-16 Time: 0857 Type: Standard, linear, POV The population is caught in an ongoing battle with tiny “nanobots” that take over a host’s body in order to fuel their reproduction. The problem apparently began with a single “dormant” infected human, whose awakening also activated the machines, which began to spread at an alarming rate. Once infected, the host would inevitably become a slave to the machines, eventually becoming catatonic, but not before displaying aggressive “zombie-like” behaviour. As a member of an underground “faction” or “resistance” that assembled in response to the threat, I was quickly becoming aware that we were fighting a losing battle. Although most of our time was spent hiding from the “bots” we did our best to accumulate weapons in an underground facility to aid in our cause. This facility was actually an old abandoned station of some kind, with a pristinely clean white-tiled bathroom. The dream begins with myself and two other team members running into the bathroom, apparently being chased by an infected person called an “infect.” Our research had just revealed that groups of infects had a tendency to “migrate toward organic gases”, possibly in the hopes of satiating the bots’ need to sustain their hosts. Otherwise, we observed that their behaviour became considerably less aggressive in the vicinity of these gases. Knowing that a gas leak had only recently occurred in this bathroom, all three of us run and hide in the single corner cubicle. As I crouch on the toilet seat waiting for the “infect” to find us, I whisper a few commands to the other 2 women by the stall door. It appears that one of them intends to sacrifice herself to save us. As the infect rounds the corner, she agrees to make a break for it, in order to lead him away. The plan works and another one of our armed teams eventually finds us. In an emergency conference, I discuss our urgent need to gather more information about the bots’ behaviour by studying them in a laboratory setting. I suggest that we “capture” some of them and introduce them into a fish that we can study in an aquarium. The leader of our group reluctantly agrees, although he makes it clear that his goal is to destroy them by force. Soon after introducing the bots into the body of a panfish that we capture in a nearby pond, I demonstrate how the fish originally feigns death by swimming on its side, only to right itself in a few seconds. As the fish does this, a strange metallic looking device appears on the outside of the tank. The device resembles two small misaligned silver 3-AAA batteries stuck together, with a long blue light on each. It also appears to be giving off some kind of sound. Suggesting that this is a homing device, our leader grabs it and is about to smash it with a hammer when I object, saying that “we don’t really know what it is!” However, my exclamation is too late and he breaks the device into little pieces. I suddenly come up with the hypothesis that an opposing group of nanobots may have separated itself from the others and formed an opposing “faction” with divergent intentions and created this unknown device as a weapon. Gathering up the pieces in my left hand, I walk down to the mess hall and announce that I’m looking for the best scientists to help me study this new piece of technology. A single woman named “Jen” follows me into an adjacent room, where we place the pieces onto a blank white sheet of paper and begin our examination with tweezers. A second woman joins us shortly after. | ||||||||
| Killowatt Crash | Project August | 2014-06-19 | Jennifer Joy | |||||
| Airplane. Las vegas. driving in car start to slide off road, go off embankment into old neighborhood. Talking w/ my husband. he’s holding me tightly from behind. we are going straight up into a tree but it feels like a roller coaster ride. I am talking about how we almost bought the house we drove by earlier but didn’t, thank god, because we would not have liked it if we did. we know because we lived in a corner house before?? springfield, mo. I am talking about all the ways that God has been so good to us and I say God is so good. we get to top. there is dark sky and clear crisp air. we start to fall. My husband is giving a running commentary so I won’t be scared and the closer we get to the ground, the bigger the news. He says access hollywood,entertainment tonight, fox news, cnn, etc. Then he says, “kilowatt now we’re too close. “He must not have gotten it in time”?? He says, “I love you” then “I’ll see you on the next go around” then “I’ll find you.” He is still holding me tight with both arms. I can see his muscles bulging from holding on so tight. He’s wearing skin tight black t shirt and I feel safe and loved and I know it’s all right. we hit the ground. ends like when you see a parachutist hit ground with a big oomph. Feels like I’m swinging back and forth. I see a white light and I wake up and see the night light. | ||||||||
| It’s’Too Dark | Project August | 2014-06-19 | heavendreamer | |||||
| I am at a social gathering in a large house, but there are no lights. Light conversation is happening. I’m given a drink. I can barely see the glass being handed to me. I try to see what this large house looks like. Straining my eyes I see a large fireplace and hearth. I ask why they don’t light a fire and am told it is too hot and that my eyes will ajust. I ask when the lights will be turned on and I’m told, “It is going to take awhile to get the grid back up.” I woke up with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. | ||||||||
| Bowe Bergdahl… | Project August | 2014-06-20 | Elyse | |||||
| The last several nights, I haven’t had much in the way of dreams to enter. For the most part, I have been dreaming about different individuals “training” me to “see” things like auras, having me look at images and concentrate, then after my lessons I would be sent on a wild, dream adventure to practice what I have learned… but I remember so very little about them that I didn’t feel like they were worth putting in… Last night, however, I was being taught how to see different spirit bodies. Orbs in particular. Someone was teaching me that I could take a sort of mental snapshot of how I felt and where I was before I began so that if things got too wild for me, I could remember and return to my “normal” place. It made sense in the dream. I practiced and watched an orange orb for a while before snapping out of it and having a horrible feeling. I guess it was my adventure time… I realized that I was sitting in a bed in a small room after my little vision of the orb. I just had a really cruddy stomach-sinking feeling. There were two other men in the room, both were handcuffed. One I didn’t recognize and the other I did, but it took me a second to realize just where I knew him from. It was Bowe Bergdahl! The guy that Obama had just traded 5 terrorist for. Words cannot express just how horrified and disgusted I felt from being in the room with these two men, I felt this way even before recognizing Bowe. Someone had come into the room to escort the men into another room. I went with them, accidentally being caught between them. As if I wasn’t horrified with their presence enough, being between the two of them sent what felt like waves of electricity through me and I could feel every one of my hairs stand on end. Something most certainly wasn’t right with these guys. In the other room, there was a dog running around. A very cute dog, and I played with the dog while keeping an eye on and studying these two guys. They smiled at me while I played with the dog. They looked genuine… but I could feel, FEEL all kinds of hate and disgust radiate out of them. They absolutely hated me with every fiber of their being. When I felt this, I looked Bowe dead in the eye. He was still smiling sweetly. He LOOKED sincere… but I knew better. When I looked in his eyes, it dawned on me and I thought to myself “OMG… he means to commit Jihad!” I don’t know how I jumped to that conclusion… but I felt very strongly about it. I just somehow knew. I was shown by some officer the belongings they took from him. One of the items was a watch, the time had stopped on it and on the back was something scratched in Arabic with a date next to it. I can’t remember the date or the time that the watch had stopped working now. I was overwhelmed with the idea of what these guys might be planning to do… and who they might be planning to do it to. Throughout the rest of the dream, I followed these guys around regardless of how they made me feel… I was hoping to find a way to stop them, but I didn’t know how. I woke up in a panic… thoroughly horrified and told my husband my dream. He said he wasn’t surprised by it, but it made him want to get out of bed at 4 am to smoke, so I’m thinking it bothered him a bit too… Here’s hoping this is just a dream… | ||||||||
| Lady in a Burkha in a Hole | Project August | 2014-06-20 | Ablelba | |||||
| Dream 6/19/2014 6AM DST, 11:40 LST Lady in a Burka On 6/18/14 PM, I went to bed intending to dream of August 2014. There were lots of confused images, like laundry and video clips swirling in dark water. It was making me restless, so as an experiment I tried to narrow the focus to August 10. I dreamed about a lady in a burkha. I was looking down on the scene from the usual dream view position (top corner of the room). She was stuck in a round hole about 18 inches wide, with her head and left arm on top, and the rest of her dangling unseen out the bottom of the hole. Light was sometimes visible under the hole, as she moved her body around. She was struggling not to fall through the hole, but could not quite get herself back up through it. Her body seemed to be pulled sharply to the left, right, and back by something. I kept trying to make it to be water, but not water; wind. In the process of struggling, the burkha came off her face. Her teeth were bared from exertion, but she did not cry out for help. No one else appeared to be there. She had straight black hair, light brown skin, dark brown eyes, a somewhat large nose. She appeared to be in her 30’s. The burka was thin fabric with greens and blues on a background of black. The room was off-white, with smooth walls, and the interior corners were rounded. It looked a lot like the inside of a gigantic utility sink. I knew there was a closed door behind me, but I could not see it. === That’s all I’ve got associated with Aug 10. No idea what it could mean. | ||||||||
| Biscuits Save Lives | Project August | 2014-06-20 | Elyse | |||||
| I got a nap in after I woke up a little before 4am. I had this amazing dream that I was doing further research on energies and the spirit and such. While doing this research, I got in touch with my step sister who I haven’t really talked to since I was very little. My family had shunned her for being a “witch” but now I had questions for her. She did, in fact, study witchcraft. She wasn’t a dreamer like I am, but she claimed to talk to “familiars”… she was excited about my research and somehow had managed to put up her house to get me a $7,000 loan to pursue a formal education on the subject, I couldn’t accept the money, but when she got upset, I tucked it away to return to her later. I thought I was doing well on my own. We had gone somewhere and were attacked by bad spirits. I assumed now that this was because I was on the right track and almost effortlessly disposed of them just using energy. I was now pretty confident in my abilities. After a while, we were attacked by some men. I knew what they were going to do before they ever did it and instinctively how to react. It was pretty awesome. I managed to take a gun from one of the bad guys… but some other guy had a gun that somehow shot bullets much faster than the average gun. I was able to slow down and see the bullets coming towards me and dodge them JUST in time. It was like I was living out ‘The Matrix”. I only got hit once, then whooped that guy’s butt pretty good. Before clearing out some other places where people were being hurt by these bad guys. Along my way, I found a note. The note was trying to sell me a biscuit recipe and said that it was vital for EVERYONE to know how to make biscuits. They would SAVE LIVES! That I needed to learn to make them for family, friends, or just as valuable trade items. The recipe wasn’t fancy or anything… it was just your regular, generic butter biscuit recipe, but I left the money and bought one… even though I kinda already consider myself a pretty decent biscuit chef… (I mean, I live down south where biscuits and gravy is kinda a big deal.) After I had cleaned house on all of the bad guys, I reflected on what had happened and wrote Chris all about it. I was only able to do any of this because something had snapped while on my journey to learn about spirit energy. He wrote me a nice email and responded to what had happened. I meditated on what had happened, revisiting everywhere that I had gone to see that Chris had left little messages or mental notes flying in the air where all of the incidents had occurred. One was over a boat. There was a torture device in there that I hadn’t noticed because I didn’t know what it was. He gave me a name for it, but I forgot what it was. Basically, this device would slowly drip water into a container holding a prisoner and eventually drown them. I wondered what that was doing there… (the dream took place on a coast somewhere…) I followed the notes which led me back to the biscuits and decided I would buy two more recipes, one for Chris and one for his wife. Then I woke up. | ||||||||
| Toxic Nerve Agent | Project August | 2014-06-21 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||
| 6/20/2014 9:30pm Nap Time Dream *No meditation before Nap* I was standing at the bus stop, I was noticing an older man reading a news paper, I pretended to bend down and tie my shoes and noticed the head line of the New York times, August 24th 2014. Toxic Nerve Agent has been contained. I started to read the details in the first of the paragraph mentioning the Toxic Nerve Agent that had effected workers early in the month was now contained. The older gentleman noticed I was reading his paper and put it down on his lap and just stared at me. “Sorry” I said and stood up, I went into the coffee shop next to the bus stop but they were sold out of papers. I am now in a Taxi, and I am asking the driver “Do you know where we are going?” Yes he replied. I did not know where I was going, I got the vague feeling that I had blacked out, I had a sense of unease with this Taxi Driver, almost like I was being kidnapped. He stops the car and I paid the fair and got out. I was near a bridge and there was a parking lot and walkway just alone side of the river. I noticed the clouds getting very dark and the waves in the river began to come over the small wall and splash onto the walkway. It was suddenly dark and every scary movie came to my mind, I told me myself “Knock it off your just freaking yourself out” but I couldn’t get over the feeling of dread. The street light on the walkway went out and the storm grew stronger, I tried to find shelter in the doorway of an old gothic styled building next to the river, it was in a park like setting. It was getting cold very quickly and it felt like winter. I awoke with the fan full blast and window open laying on top of the covers and I was freezing! | ||||||||
| Planes and Cars in Patty Fields | Project August | 2014-06-21 | Elyse | |||||
| This was a very long dream, but I only remember a tiny fraction of it. I remember being on a plane but having no idea where I was going. There was a man on the plane who was a complete jerk. He acted as if he were better than everyone else and spoke in a very hateful way to anyone he didn’t like up until the plane started to shake and take a nose dive. The guy then started crying like a baby and begging for someone to help him… for whatever reason, I lot of people took this as a last minute opportunity to take his picture while laughing at what a baby he was being. I didn’t know the guy, or cared to know him, I was more worried about us crashing! Luckily, the pilot managed to pull us up at the last minute and we survived. We had landed somewhere close to a school, and I had to go to this school for some reason. I saw what looked like very small, rectangular rice patty fields leading up to the school. There were a couple of white air planes sticking out of them. The front ends of the planes were completely buried, leaving just the tail sticking out. Looking around, I saw some vehicles had crashed in the small fields too. I think one was a dark blue mini van… I wondered how so many vehicles had crashed in those patty fields… it couldn’t be an easy thing to do. Maybe there was some sort of super magnet in there or something… also, I felt like a lot of people must have died here and was quick to find someone that I could ask about what happened. When I found someone, I asked why the planes and vehicles hadn’t been removed from the fields, and the person replied that they had become some sort of memorial. I asked about the people who had died there and was told that they were part of the memorial. I got very upset and asked that wouldn’t they consider a grave for each of the people who passed away a better memorial? And the person replied “no”. | ||||||||
| Alien invasion | Project August | 2014-06-22 | Loulou | |||||
| Alien invasion – hiding out in a tower block | ||||||||
| | | The Hitchhiker | Project August | 2014-06-23 | Eric | ||||
| Date: 2014-06-22 Time: 0227 Type: Spliced, linear, POV I am walking down the side of a street with a black man to my left. We are observing the actions of a Caucasian male, hitchhiker, who is about 20 feet in front of us. A well-meaning group of people suddenly stops and picks him up. At this point, the man beside me pulls out a walkie-talkie and begins to communicate with the group of people telling them that “whatever [they] do, don’t let him out of your sight.” What I see next are images of the hitchhiker hijacking the car with a silver revolver. The dream suddenly changes and I am standing in a small room of a rural house that belongs to my black friend. I have the feeling that this man and the hitchhiker (a presumed convict), have had some kind of “falling out” in the past. The convict is now on his way over to kill us both and we need to devise a plan to ensure our survival. I ask if my friend has a gun in the house and he says that he does, however, it can only be accessed through a crawl space above the ceiling. Since the convict’s arrival is imminent, I volunteer to retrieve the weapon as my friend keeps his body against the door and his hand on the lock. After crawling through a hole in the ceiling, I make my way to the old mattress that conceals the weapon, among the springs inside. Downstairs, I can already hear that the convict has somehow “busted his way in” and a firefight ensues. Luckily, my black friend ends up getting the upper hand and chases off the fleeing criminal. Unfortunately, the convict makes a second attempt to break in, and as he does, his appearance changes to that of a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair. Dangling off of one wrist, are a pair of handcuffs that look like they have been picked. As he/she comes through the door, I hit him over the head with something and lock the handcuffs over his free wrist. Knowing that I had seen through his disguise, he asks me “How did you know?” On the floor, I make sure not to touch his revolver and 2 other pieces of evidence that contain his fingerprints. | ||||||||
| An Attack at Church | Project August | 2014-06-23 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-22 Time: 0528 Type: Standard, linear, POV I am sitting in church with my family, writing something in the songbook that I can’t remember. I am upset and angry at the things the priest is saying, since I know that they are mostly lies meant to control the weak minded. My writing is apparently a sign of defiance, which eventually attracts the attention of the congregation. As I start to “fall asleep”, the music suddenly begins and jerks me awake. I see that the collection has started and a man to my right is handling the collection basket on a long pole. When he gets to our pew, he calls me out by name and says that he “doesn’t want to see anymore “NFs” in the book.” Genuinely confused, I turn to him and ask, “What are NFs?” His amused and exasperated expression, as well as the expressions of everyone around me clearly indicate my ignorance. I repeat, “Seriously, what does it mean?” to which he replies, “You don’t know?” I look to my brother on my left for assistance, but he just gives me the same strange look, which angers me further. I decide that this is enough and take flight, straight up toward the ceiling. From this vantage point, I soar around the church in a smug attempt to point out the self-imposed limitations that their belief system has imposed on them. After having my fill of their jealous and stubborn expressions, I fly through the sound-proof glass into the “crying room” where I meet 3 boys around the age of 8 or 9. One of the boys looks at me and says “you’re gonna die, you know.” I tell him, “yeah.” All three of them sit down and gather around me to listen to what I have to say regarding occult wisdom and knowledge. A teenage girl joins us soon after and I give her a rather long description of the “lines of force” and energy centers that pervade our body, and explain how “all of them heal.” At that moment, the priest enters the room with one arm behind his back, stumbling and apparently in great pain. As I get up to steady him, I can feel his breath on my left ear as he tells me about how bad he feels. I reply, “Ok, we’re going to get you to a hospital,” but his response is strong and quick, as if rehearsed. He exclaims, “NO! Heal me! Heal me!” Almost immediately, I recognize this as an attempt to discredit me by forcing the use of my abilities against “the rules.” At this, I smile in amusement and say “yeah right. I know what you’re trying to do.” His expression immediately changes to one of malice as he suddenly jerks his arm from behind his back. In one motion, I move to immobilize his arm, which I now see is holding a syringe. I deduce that, in his desperation, his intention was to attack me with it. With a feint of my own, I pretend to stick the needle into his back, while actually pouring the liquid out of the syringe, onto the floor. His expression reveals that his own beliefs have “put him to sleep.” As if in slow motion, a vial on an adjacent cabinet that contained the liquid in the syringe falls to the floor and shatters into many pieces. Just then, a group of law enforcement personnel enters the room and I calmly explain what just happened. I tell them, “Ok, NOW we’re going to examine ALL of the evidence.” | ||||||||
| A Strange Hole | Project August | 2014-06-23 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-22 Time: 1004 Type: Standard, linear, POV I am golfing with Adam Scott (the golfer) as we tee off on the last, or second last hole of a tournament. He and I feel like friends, although I can feel other “friends” watching us. Immediately to the right of the hole is a dense ravine, lined by tall pine trees. Behind the green is a large, wheat-like grass field, with stalks growing to about waist level. To the left (where most of the gallery is gathered) is a 12-foot high wire fence, which apparently demarks the property boundary. Adam is the first to tee off and hits a wonderful shot to the left fairway, about 150 yards from the hole. I match this shot with one of my own into a similar position. Since I am away, I am the first to play my second, which I hit short and right of the green, into the deep rough. Amused by my blunder, an overconfident Scott shanks his directly into the forest. At this point, something very strange happens. As I watch his ball disappear (still in the air) into the pine trees, it emerges almost immediately as if someone had thrown it out and lands on the green, just 2 feet left of the hole. A din of laughter erupts from Scott and his fans, as I stand there, stunned. Still perplexed, I pull out my lob wedge and hit my ball straight up out of the rough. It takes one bounce on the green and goes right into the hole. I turn to Adam and say “Not bad!” Both of us walk up onto the green and approach the hole. As I take out the flag, I notice that the hole has now become almost 18 inches in diameter and about 2 feet deep. We crouch down and take a look inside, where we find a pile of 20 or so old golf balls mixed among large, multi-coloured gummy bears. Adam peers in and says “there are 18 balls, exactly.” Thinking that it would be a waste to just leave the balls there, I start taking them out one by one, agreeing with him that we will split the “good” balls and leave the rest. As I begin to sort the “good” balls (Titleist) on the right and the “cheap” ones on the left, I notice that all of the Titleist balls are almost identical. Each has a strange yellow mark across the logo, and are signed underneath with the name “Jeff ____.” After placing 6 of these balls to the right, I look up to Adam and say “maybe we should keep the gummy bears in there, since we don’t know what they are for. For all we know, they could trigger a bomb if they are removed.” Just then, I hear a rustling sound coming from the grass field behind me. Since Adam is facing the field, he looks up and tells me that there is somebody coming. Somehow, this “creeps” us out and we decide to make a break for it. I tell him to grab half of the Titleist balls and follow me. As we descend from the green back onto the fairway, I count down from 3 (indicating when to run) and we bolt towards the gallery and the wire fence. Although we run at an incredible speed, I can still see Adam keeping up to my left. He reaches the fence first and climbs it at nearly the speed that we were running with the agility of a spider. Similarly, I jump onto the fence and climb to the top, where I suddenly notice 3 barbed wires blocking my way. I yell out to Adam, “Is this barbed wire?” He replies, “yep!” as he heedlessly climbs over, without a scratch. Hesitant to make the climb myself, I swing sideways across the fence until I notice a small section that has been torn from the support posts. In desperation, I pull at the hole and squeeze myself through, collapsing in a heap on the ground. Looking back toward the grass field behind the hole, we see that the unknown entity did not follow us. I say out loud to Adam, “Whatever it is, it doesn’t dare come near the crowds because they would overwhelm it emotionally and mentally.” Only then do I notice that we have ended up on the grass of an enormous baseball diamond, which apparently is the adjacent property. About 30 yards away from me, stands one of my childhood friends, smiling and conversing with a black woman, who stands to his right. She is dressed in blue and I immediately know that these two, against all odds, are soul mates who have found each other. My joy for them is overwhelming and tears flood my eyes to the sound of the closing flute music in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. As Adam Scott goes over to congratulate the woman, I can just barely make out my friend approaching me with a smile. | ||||||||
| Alien Blimps | Project August | 2014-06-23 | Tessie | |||||
| I am walking through a busy school hallway just as the morning bell rings. A few students are running late, rushing toward class and I’m walking in the other direction on my way out of the building. I’m searching for my car when I look up into the sky and see several silver blimps orchestrating an attack. This wasn’t an earthly attack, and I flee the area. They are searching for a particular frequency or thought and soon, whoever or whatever they were had spread everywhere, including into the sewer grates. We were soon protecting a single person, minding our words and thoughts so we could remain undetected. It seems as if someone broke the silence and I woke with them coming toward our sanctuary. We were bugging out. If this dream is related to Project August, it probably wasn’t anywhere near my area of the Northern Hemisphere. The morning was darker than a summer morning would be in these parts, school was in session, and I felt like there was a chill in the air, llike the chill of fall was upon me. But since I’ve had real problems remembering anything these last two weeks that wasn’t very personal, I thought I’d share. Be well. | ||||||||
| Strange Statues in CA | Project August | 2014-06-23 | Elyse | |||||
| I can’t remember a lot of this dream, but I remember that there was a big fuss on the news about some small statues that had somehow unearthed themselves in central California. The statues were maybe two or three feet tall (not very big at all) and were ancient. I felt like they just popped out of the ground overnight. They were made out of carved stone and had an ancient American Indian feel to them. They were very interesting to look at. They were near a cave and I want to say there were about eight of these small statues making a circle, then a ninth off to the side near the entrance of the cave and at night, its eyes would glow as if its purpose was to either help someone in the circle find their way to the cave or someone from the cave find the circle. Anyway, the news reported that aside from finding these artifacts… strange things were occurring around this area at night time, but it didn’t say exactly WHAT was happening. There were several brave people who would dare to spend the night in the circle. Some would say nothing happened, some were traumatized, and some said their eyes had been opened. Normally, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with something like this, but in the dream I felt compelled to go and spend the night in the circle myself, and so I did. I made it to the circle just as the sun set. It got dark very quickly and while I admit that the place felt very creepy, I didn’t see anything that really disturbed me. I thought it was a bit creepy that the 9th statues eyes lit up. Many people couldn’t take it for whatever reason and left very quickly saying it was too scary. I was going to sit on the ground to rest, but noticed that there were several black scorpions running around. It didn’t surprise me to see scorpions because even though we were in a clear area, we were near a forest and scorpions do love logs… but what bothered me is the fact that the scorpions were jet black. I’ve only ever seen brown scorpions that easily blend with dead leaves, but I guess it is possible for there to be black ones in California. After making a note of the scorpions, I looked up at the sky. The stars were moving. They were changing just over us, but I don’t think anyone else noticed. It didn’t bother me at all, for whatever reason, I thought it was about time for a good change. When dawn was about to break, I decided to go home and write about what I had experienced there. It wasn’t much, it wasn’t as scary as everyone made it out to be, and I thought it was important that I share my boring views for whatever reason. I would spend another night there some other time just to see if I could find any strange occurrences. After I wrote about my experience, a woman came to thank me and take the printed document from me. I couldn’t imagine what she would want with it… but she put it in a binder and signed it as Obama and I was offered a job. Basically, I would go and investigate all of these weird things going on around the world and write about them as if I were Obama… giving him credit (Good or Bad) for all of MY views. Well, I thought this was ridiculous… but then thought that maybe it could be an opportunity for me to help get him out of office. I asked to look at the binder she was carrying with her. It was about 6 inches thick of “Obama’s” recent ventures and of the “Media’s” views of him. These weren’t just some peoples adventures with his name on them, this was a complete collection of recent stories concerning his presidency… both good and bad. When I asked the woman about the news articles, she laughed and asked me if I believed the media. Well, no, but there seemed to be so, SO much more than news reports going on in this binder… because it didn’t matter what someone wrote about Obama, whether it was good OR bad… it was all for the same purpose. ALL of the stories were in the same binder… what could that mean? I was a bit disgusted by the binder… I asked about people writing things to have Obama kicked out of office and she blatantly told me that it was very, VERY unlikely that he would be thrown out of office, in fact, it was more likely that he would serve a third term. This made me sick to my stomach, but then she went on to say that under the very unlikely event that he were to leave office, that there was a “back-up plan”. Something big has already been set into motion, and so, I could write whatever I wanted to so long as it was interesting enough to “captivate everyone’s attention”. It didn’t even matter if it were true or not, but she suggested that I write uplifting things like the statues not being scary to give everyone “Hopeful stability”. After thinking about it, I refused to work for her… even though I was promised that I would be well taken care of as far as money. It just felt so wrong. She told me to reconsider and get back to her because it would be better that I take advantage of the situation and get the money, rather than make a stand and suffer without it. Someone else would happily take my place, and my taking a stand would amount to nothing but my own suffering in the end… I was pretty upset when I woke up… | ||||||||
| Plastic Hand Gun Training | Project August | 2014-06-24 | sherriann | |||||
| June 22/23, 2014 Plastic Hand Gun Training A bald guy is giving us (three women including me) handgun training using red plastic handguns that have a very large bore (an inch and a half, at least). At one point, with a snarl on his face because we just aren’t getting it, he grabs the gun away from me and places it slant wise up close to a dummy head to demonstrate a close up shot. The guns were never fired in the dream. | ||||||||
| Long Distance Run | Project August | 2014-06-25 | yoda | |||||
| June, 21. 2014 / 03:21 Intention to dream about August 2014. And to remember unspectacular dreams too! (Mostly I forget about them….) I’m a long distant runner on a sportive event. On my back and chest are sheets with a number. Can’t see the number, just the sheets. I’m running between flower beds and borders of flowers on white graveled paths. Lots of flowers all around, red blue, yellow, all colors. Its a wonderful park at the shore of a lake. Can see the water from the path. There are nearly no people around. That makes me wonder – am I running on an event or not? – seemingly I’m the only one who knows! The few people that I meet are ignoring me – it seems to be normal to meet joggers in the park. Every thing is normal. No stress, calmness all around. The sun is shining, a few white clouds at the sky. A soft breeze from the water, not too hot and not too cold. Perfect weather for running. I’m not sweating, it’s easy to run. I don’t know how far the distance is nor do I know when I started or when I expect to reach the finish. I’m just running. Remarks: I’m not sure if this has something to do with August. But it is remarkable, that I’m no jogger. I don’t like to run. I like walking, hiking and biking, but _NOT_ running. | ||||||||
| Trousers | Project August | 2014-06-25 | yoda | |||||
| June 23, 2014 / ~ 04:30 went to bed with intention to dream events from August 2014. Had 3 dreams this night. This is the first one. Trousers We – a small group of about 5…10 people are in a larger building. There are no windows in the open holes in the wall. Nor are there doors or doorframes in the open walls. There were at least 2 doors (holes). Inside the building the hallway was very wide and high. Like in an old school. The rooms were also very huge. Most of the time we stayed in a kitchen. Oven in the middle of the room. Spare furnishings. An wooden table, chairs, a cupboard. There were higher floors, but we stayed only in the basement. The walls in all the rooms were painted: White in the upper part, like the ceiling and in some dirty brown-beige color in the lower part. It reached about to my shoulder. The walls were very neglected, the color chipped of and some rifts were visible. In front of the building the terrain is like a construction site. Hills of gravel and rubble, holes in the ground. The doors lead directly to this terrain. But the terrain is about half a meter lower than the floor of the building. Like the outer floor was missing or removed. The weather is dull. Heavy dark grey clouds hang low. Rain is coming. We have to work together. There was some kind of delivery and it was deposited directly in front of the doors in a semicircle. The delivery consisted of “trousers” and some other stuff. Could not see in detail because the ware was bundled. All these goods barred the entrance. First we had to remove the not so water sensitive goods from the entrance to get the “trousers” in the building. It was a hard working job but we had at least a wheelbarrow. | ||||||||
| Making The Spear | Project August | 2014-06-25 | yoda | |||||
| second dream on June, 23.2014 ~ 04:30 Im in a african village. Huts of brushwood around. All the inhabitants standing around me and the chief of the village. My task is to cut a tip to a huge tree which should become a spear. This was difficult, because the upper (smaller) end of the tree was not even but had a step in it, like the tree was broken. On the other hand, the knife was really really sharp and it cut the wood like butter. My attention concentrated to get the right pointy tip. It should not be too thin – the spear would break when it stuck into the target – and not too thick – the spear would not penetrate the target. There have been some throws with the spear and it seemed to be way too heavy for me. I forgot some further details. I got a meal from a big pot. The weather was always hot and dusty. | ||||||||
| Just a Wierd Dream | Project August | 2014-06-25 | Elyse | |||||
| I dreamt that I woke up to the sound of an airplane flying extremely low. I ran to my bedroom window to see the airplane fly over my house and other houses, just missing them. Then it disappeared behind another house and a few seconds later there was a huge explosion and the ground shook a little bit. I ran outside, and in the dream, I lived on a hill and could see that the plane had crashed into a rectangular building with a flat roof. For some reason, I thought it was some sort of restaurant/ storage building. As the smoke began to clear, I could see the plane. It was tiny and white. I didn’t think that more than one person could fit in it if ANY people could fit in it. The explosion was HUGE for such a small plane also… people began to gather around me on my hill, and as more and more smoke cleared, I could see that ambulances had come. Several bodies were lined up to the side of the building… workers were trying to dig others out of the rubble, and a few people were taken away on stretchers. It didn’t look good. I decided to call my husband and tell him the news. I tried calling several times, but for whatever reason, the phone would always dial the wrong number, so I eventually gave up and decided that I would just go find him so I could tell him myself. I found my husband in a worn old house in a bad neighborhood. Everything seemed to be falling apart there. When I went into the house, I had found that he had gotten back his old job working as a supervisor for FEMA. I wasn’t overly excited about this. Apparently, funds had been lowered. He had an old computer mounted to the wall, and on the ground was a keyboard. An officer would approach the keyboard, and then my husband would use a shop-vac to vacuumed their feet before… they keyed in numbers with their toes. Well, this was wild. I never in a million years thought I would see something like THIS, and stood back watching semi-amused until I noticed my colored pencils on the floor next to the keyboard! They were in a little tin Coca-Cola bucket. I was a bit upset that my husband had taken them without asking me. Maybe he meant to replace them with better colored pencils like my favorite Prismacolors? I pointed out to him that I saw he had taken my colored pencils, and jokingly said to him that I guess he would have to buy me new ones now as I elbowed him and smiled. He became completely enraged and started cussing me, chasing me out of the house and to the car. I was afraid he might try to hurt me, so I got into the car and locked the doors before he could get to me, then drove off down the street and parked. While I thought and waited in the car, I watched a court show on a small TV. There was a young, chubby black lady who was on trial for killing a bunch of white women around her same age. I recognized this woman as one of my husband’s officers. Maybe this was why he was in such a foul mood? I thought this was so wild because it was on national TV, and it looked like she was being judged by one of those TV judges in a small claims court. During the show, they showed the faces of all the white woman that had been killed. The photos were just of their faces on white backgrounds…almost like mug shots and the list of photos seemed to go on for forever. I wondered how she had been able to kill so many woman… I saw a pair of tall thin black ladies walking down the street. They were talking about the woman on trial and I asked why they thought she might have killed all of those other women. They shrugged and suggested that maybe they had called her the “N-word”. I wasn’t sure about this… because, I mean, I don’t ever go out and hear a bunch of people saying that word… I thought it was very unlikely that ALL of those woman had called her that. But the ladies said that that was the only thing they could figure. | ||||||||
| Finishing up | Project August | 2014-06-25 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-24 Time: 0341 Type: Flash, quasi-layered, linear POV I’m on the last hole of a golf tournament with Sergio Garcia, waiting for the group in front of us to finish up. When we get up to what is supposed to be the green, I find that the hole is actually located about 8 feet into a frozen pond, and surrounded by natural debris. After clearing away the debris, Sergio and I get talking about a number of topics, including setting up a meeting with President Clinton, who is attending the tournament (I actually end up shaking his hand later on). Suddenly, to the right, a bookshelf appears out of nowhere, filled with old, rustic-looking books that I begin to sort through. I toss most of them aside and am about dispose of them when the woman in charge of some sort of “symposium” decides to keep some “for her family.” She directs a young boy (her son) over to the books and hands him two particularly thick, yet dilapidated volumes. I crouch down to the boy and say, “you’re mom’s right, you know” and open up one of the books. I then go on to show him how to cut out the inside pages with a pen knife to form a secret storage compartment inside the book (a common trick nowadays). Turning back to the golf tournament, I witness Sergio miss his putt to win the tournament, leaving him tied for second or third place. While this happens, I become aware of a separate flash dream (layer) in which I am walking through the set of “The Simpsons.” I observe some of the characters, but they seem unconcerned with me. | ||||||||
| Propaganda on “The Price is Right” | Project August | 2014-06-25 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-24 Time: 0706 Type: Standard, linear, POV This dream curiously resembles a scene from the movie “Cypher”, which I had only seen about a week before. It begins with me in the “interview” stages on “The Price is Right.” These interviews occur before the show is filmed, in order to choose the contestants that will be featured in the program. Until that point, I am aware that I had just used up the rest of my money travelling here (somewhere in the United States), and have high hopes for winning a significant monetary prize. The first step is filling out a 2 pages questionnaire that queries our background information (name, address, etc). The second step is attending a pseudo-show that looks very similar to the real one, but only contains one game – a wheel spin that contains 2 or 3 “mini-games”. After being called from the audience, I go up on stage with Bob Barker and 2 other women. The first woman loses her mini game (I’m not shown what it is), but the second woman just barely wins hers. Her game (a very strange one) involved 2 horizontal meters (looking like thermometers) stacked on top of one another. The top meter (in red) showed the number “30” and the second (bottom) went up to 100. The objective was to have the second meter reach 100 before the top one “cracked.” The way it was described was that “her bone had to withstand 30 stress-units until the meter reaches 100.” After being successful, we both move onto the wheel spin. Although the woman only gets one attempt, Bob Barker keeps giving me re-spins until I end up winning the game. As he leads me over to the studio next door to participate in the actual show (literally the next room), I begin to suspect his motives. Directing me to a large table full of food just left of the stage, he tells me to have my fill. As I pick out a few small buns, some cheese and pickles, Bob wanders over to the center of the stage where he prepares a large projector. I curiously eye this device while making my way down to contestants’ row. The studio is dimly lit, and even though there is a full audience, it is oddly quiet. Nobody is talking and everyone seems to be looking forward. “Contestants’ row” is a large dark brown table behind which sit 2 individuals – one at either end facing forward. Since there are 4 spots, the man on the end nearest me sees me approaching and slides over one spot, giving me the end seat. He tells me that there are forms underneath my chair that I need to fill out, so I place them on the table in front of me. I’m about to start writing, when another man approaches me from behind looking upset. Apparently, he is another contestant who is just returning from the bathroom and it seems that I have taken his seat. The man to my right moves over another seat to allow the man to sit, but I turn to the man behind me saying, “listen, I don’t want any hard feelings. If you want to sit here…” to which the man responds, “yeah, I do want to sit there”, so I move over, taking the seat to my right. With everyone now in position, Bob starts the projector (which projects a huge image on the white wall in front of us) and we all begin to watch clips of “The Simpsons” and several commercials that involve specific products relevant to the food that we’re eating. Looking behind me, I see that the audience is completely spellbound, but I am becoming more and more suspicious of what is going on, so far as to question whether or not our food is tainted with mind-altering chemicals that make us more susceptible to the messages being presented. Turning to my right, I ask the man, “Why are they showing us this?” He says, “I don’t really know.” When all of the clips have finished, Bob turns off the projector and the house lights come back on. At this, the people in the audience suddenly stand up and begin to grab their things to leave. Some even grab strange items such as toilet paper and other amenities. Behind me and over to my left, I overhear some of them turning to their neighbours saying that they’ll be returning tomorrow or “hoping that the filming will finish tomorrow.” So startled by this, I say out loud “What the HELL is happening? These people are totally brainwashed!” The dreams ends with me thinking about how I’m going to get home with no money and feeling angry that I was so easily deceived. The exact thought was “I expected a game show, but what I got was Propaganda.” I go on to suspect that “Bob Barker was behind most of it.” | ||||||||
| A Superhuman Escape | Project August | 2014-06-25 | Eric | |||||
| Date: 2014-06-24 Time: 0841 Type: Spliced, linear, POV/2P I am a young adolescent (12 – 14) resembling Dane DeHaan in appearance, on the run from a group of ulta-secret militants who are attempting to capture and kill me. The only thing that I know is that for most of my childhood, I have been specially trained by these people to exhibit abilities that would be considered super-human, and to be used as part of an agenda. My role was to be a special-ops assassin who enters and exits a target location quickly and can physically and mentally outperform any living thing on earth. Having had enough, I finally manage to escape the facility that I was being held at and am now literally running for my life. In fact, the entire scene is reminiscent of a commercial for “parkour” or something from the video game “Mirror’s Edge.” Although my run is too long and detailed to describe here, it takes me through a number of public areas including a city square, 2 public schools, an art gallery and an auditorium. At one point, I find myself trapped inside an outdoor enclosure in a building surrounded by 30-foot brick walls. Without hesitation, I use a 90 degree corner to scale the wall with ease, putting more distance between me and my captors. Several times, I find myself jumping over 10 foot fences and performing summersaults in the air. At one point, I am able to make myself invisible by mentally “projecting a cloak of invisibility around my body.” Nevertheless, this technique is only effective on some people and for some reason, does not fully deceive my would-be captors. In one scene, I remember running towards the entrance of a Korean school to the amazement of one of the soldiers standing guard. Attempting to pass through the window, I end up slamming my forehead against the glass and thinking “Not yet.” (meaning that I don’t have that ability yet). Amused but still determined, I run by the soldier and into the school. After running for several minutes and creating a difficult trail to follow (as per my training), I am frustrated that I can’t avoid being tracked. I hypothesize that I have been injected with some sort of tracking device that reveals my position regardless of my location on earth. In one of the last scenes, I am confronted on a roof top by one of the soldiers looking for me. He is wearing a grey-type uniform and handles an automatic weapon in one hand and a handheld mini-iPad device in the other. Apparently, he can’t visibly see me but uses his device to converge on my location. He fires a stream of bullets at me, but I am somehow able to “slow time” (making the bullets appear as bright orange streaks) and dodge them by flattening my body against the ground. After disabling him, I run through a set of double-doors back into a building. Emerging in a heavily guarded stairwell, I knock out one of the guards and steal his weapon and walkie-talkie. I descend into the basement and use the radio to create a false alarm on one of the upper floors. Exiting through the garage, I encounter some gang members whom I manipulate mentally to trade 3 imaginary boxes of cigarettes in exchange for their silence. Several minutes later, I make my way down a spiraling ramp in one of the buildings. Opening a large set of white double-doors, I am startled to find a group of 20 or so young kids staring back at me. Ten of them stand in formation holding racquets on either side of a large gymnasium as if they were playing a game of badminton with no net (or shuttlecock). In one voice, they shout in a welcoming manner, “Hey! He’s back!” Puzzled, I ask “What the hell? You guys can see me?” One of the girls replies, “Of course we can see you.” I get the feeling that all of these kids have the same abilities that I have. In a hurried voice, I explain how the soldiers are chasing me and ask their help in preventing them from passing through the door. Immediately, I turn to run again, but am allayed in the knowledge that these kids have my back. Just then, a splice occurs and I suddenly find myself looking AT myself in some sort of classroom, with my feet up on my desk. In front of me is a long shelf with a number of black DVD cases stacked in a dishevelled manner. To no one in particular, I hear myself exclaim “Oooo! I know this one!” and reach for one of the DVDs. | ||||||||
| zoeken naar een plek om over te steken. | Project August | 2014-06-27 | Saartje | |||||
| 14-6-14 incubatie: Wat gaat er gebeuren in augustus 2014 Ik ben op een bruiloft in Amersfoort en heb 2 outfits die ik eerst wil combineren. Een jurk met vestje en een broekpak. Eerst trek ik de jurk aan. Het is een soort perzikkleur met stipjes. Het staat mooi. Dan trek ik de broek er onder maar dat wordt afgekeurd door anderen. Ik vind het zelf ook niet mooi. Wat voor schoenen moeten er bij? Daar is Ellen (die ken ik van de kinderkerk) in een bruidsjurk, maar ze is niet de bruid. Ik feliciteer haar met het familielid van haar dat is getrouwd. Ze kijkt er heel vreemd bij, als: ‘wat doe je nou?’ Ze zegt iets over de kerk en dat die me van Rome weghoudt. Ik denk: ‘Ja, maar op een andere manier dan je denkt’. Ik zeg er niets over. Dan steek ik een weiland over terwijl ik niet weet waar ik naar toe wil. Het is omgeven door slootjes en de kanten zijn glibberig. Als ik terug wil is het bruggetje waar ik zojuist over ging naar beneden gezakt want een bootje moest er langs. De man en vrouw op het bootje leggen aan. De vrouw stapt op de wal en vraagt waar ze degene kan vinden van wie ze de aanlegplaats kan huren. Ik zoek ondertussen waar ik kan oversteken om terug te keren naar de bruiloft. We lopen samen een stukje op over de dijk. Daar beneden komt een brommer aangeraced. Het is de boer waar de vrouw van wil huren. Ze loopt terug . Ik zie nog steeds geen plek om over te steken en het begint donker te worden, de avond valt. TRANSLATION1 (from freetranslation.com) TITLE: Looking for a place to cross. 14-6-14 Incubation: What will happen in August 2014 I am at a wedding in Amersfoort and have 2 outfits that i first want to combine. A dress with vest and a trouser suit. I first pull the dress. It is a type of perzikkleur of dots. It is nice. I then pull the trousers there (but that is rejected by others. I think it is also not nice. What Kind of shoes should there? There is Ellen (which i know of the kinderkerk) in a wedding dress, but it is not the bride. I congratulate her on the family member of her that is married. They look very strange when, as: ‘what do you want?’ She says something about the church of Rome and that that me target away. I think: ‘Yes, but in a different way than you think’. I say nothing about. I then insert a pasture on while i do not know where i want to. It is surrounded by ditches and the edges are slippery. If i want to return is the bridge where i have just went to dropped because there was a small boat along. The man and woman on the boat to. The wife gets on the shore and asks where they can find the person of whom they berth can rent. I find now that i can cross to return to the wedding. We walk along a little bit on the dike. Down There is a moped aangeraced. It is the farmer where the woman wants to rent. They will return. I still see no place to plug it in and it starts to be dark, the night falls. TRANSLATION 2 (from Google) 14-6-14 incubation: What will happen in August 2014 I’m at a wedding in Amersfoort and have two outfits that I want to combine first. A dress with a jacket and pantsuit. First I pull the dress. It is a kind of peach color with dots. It’s beautiful. Then I pull the pants underneath but that is frowned upon by others. I do not think it’s beautiful. What kind of shoes should be included? There is Ellen (that I know of children’s church) in a wedding dress, but she is not the bride. I congratulate her with the family of her that is married. She looks very strange at, like, “What are you doing?” She says something about the church and that is keeping me from Rome. I think: “Yes, but in a different way than you think.” I say nothing about it. Then I put on a meadow while I do not know where I want to go. It is surrounded by ditches and sides are slippery. If I want back is the bridge which I passed just sunk down because a boat had to pass there. The man and woman on the boat impose. The woman gets on shore and asks where she can find out who they can hire. Berth ones Meanwhile, I can cross to go to the wedding. Looking back I We walk along a bit on the dike. Down there comes a moped aangeraced. It is where the farmer’s wife wants to rent. She walks back. I still see no place about stabbing and it starts to get dark nightfall. | ||||||||
| Over the Edge | Project August | 2014-06-28 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||
| Project August Mediation 6/28/2014 8:11am My husband and I just moved out of our house; the one we own, and move into an old country house that has been divided into four apartments. We have the entire top floor apartment, and we had just moved in, spent one night there and had to leave for a few days. We went to a climbing convention and I am walking around the tables and they are lined by the edge of the asphalt which has fallen away, (square Sinkhole) I go to walk on the edge, but it isn’t there anymore. I am sliding over the edge and scream out my husband’s name since he is standing right beside me. I grab his ankle and hold on for dear life and ask him to pull me up but he just stands there and looks at me, another man runs over and pulls me up. I thank him profusely and walk away. I leave my husband and sister in law at the convention and I am mad that my husband left me hanging, so I went back to our apartment alone. When we get back all the neighbors are complaining about my TV being too loud, but they are all talking quietly to me, I yell at them that I am deaf and I cannot hear them and ask them to speak up. Finally one of the men yells at me that the TV is too loud and no one could sleep with my TV on, I apologize and let them know I will get head phones for my TV from now on. All of the neighbors go back inside and I am about to go inside my apartment when a white cat with two tails comes into my house and attempts to run past me and up the stairs. I gently pick it up and put it back outside, then close the metal gate on my apartment door. When I get upstairs the neighbors are wondering through my apartment and messing with my stuff. I ask them to leave, as soon as one leaves I find another neighbor in another part of my apartment doing the same thing, and going through my belongings. My husband and sister in law have made friends with them and act like I am over reacting. I find my husband and tell him I am done, I cannot live here anymore. He says okay, his dad shows up and my husband, his sister, and his father move out all of their belongings and leave me there alone to move all of my stuff which is all of the large furniture, dishes, and most of the household stuff and decorations. Before he leaves, I mention that he has three people helping him and I am trying to do everything else alone, he grins at me with a sinister grin. At that moment I react and I tell him I can’t be in this relationship any more, that it is not 50/50 like we had agreed upon in the beginning, so it is over. He is happy with me ending the relationship, and walks out of the apartment. I finally get the neighbors out of my house and I sit down on my bed which is in my living room and I am looking out the window feeling quite helpless, thinking about my husband telling me in the beginning of our relationship to stop being so independent and let other people help me, to depend upon him that he won’t let me down. Now that I am weak and depend upon him all he does is let me down. As I am looking out the window I notice all of the animals are sick, there is an emu or a large duck of some kind and its feathers look wet around its eyes like it has some sort of infection in the eyes. All of the Children also look very deformed, like the man from mask, or they have unusual growths all over their bodies. The children are poking the animals with sticks, and I think to myself I can’t stay here, what if this place is the reason everyone is sick? The animals don’t mind being poked by these children in fact they talk to these children; it is the children who cannot talk back to them. I pack up a few things which have been strung everywhere due to the neighbors going through my stuff and I take the box out to my car and a gray cat comes up behind me and begins to attack me on my back, I am turning to the left and right and running with a box in my hand trying to get this cat off of my back! I think to myself I wish someone was here to help me find my way back home to the house I left which I own. **Conclusion: Clearly I have found myself in a place where I didn’t belong. With strange people and animals, which is odd for me, because I normally get along really well with animals, but these animals were very sick! I believe the issues with my husband in this dream are because of an argument we had three days ago, where he let me know, that doing the dream journaling and posting them online was a waste of time, and I shouldn’t be doing it. The discussion was so disturbing to me, because I feel as though my husband doesn’t understand me. We are both having a difficult time right now, and we both have different things going on, but it feels as though we are growing apart. This dream brought to the suffice how alone I feel right now.** | ||||||||
| New Orleans Floods Again | Project August | 2014-06-28 | Julie111957 | |||||
| This week I had only one dream that stands out. I dreamed that I was in a restaurant in New Orleans. It was an old house that had been renovated into a restaurant. I looked out of the window and saw water rising in the street. I thought “oh no it’s going to flood again”. The restaurant is on a corner lot. One of the street names starts with the letter M. I know that August is the middle of Hurricane season in Louisiana, so there always good chance of flooding at that time of the year. I thought I would mention it anyway since it felt like a premonition dream while I was dreaming it. | ||||||||
| Form with no limits | Project August | 2014-06-28 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Project August Meditation Layered dream – see Over the Edge after this dream 6/28/2014 8:11am I am floating through a mist like cloud, my arms at my side, there is a bright light coming from my body. I am reviewing my past wounds, as I go through each one it floats away into the distance. Once I am no longer bonded to the wounds of my past the misty cloud dissipates I find my physical body transforming and morphing into different animals, and mythical creatures before it returns back to my normal form. As my form changed my spirit remained the same, I still held my same beliefs in past lives, dream works, and the belief that this life is but a maelstrom for the sole. I look down to find I am still a being of light, like tiny stars flickering I am aware of every particle that makes up my body, I can see down to the nano-size parts of what makes me a physical being and I can see electricity running through my body and touching each cell and making it glow with light. I feel a sense of peace over all of my body and spirit; I feel love and warmth in a way I cannot describe with words but let me try. My whole body feels lighter than air, and my body feels like the life giving warmth of the sun. My heart soars with love, not of anyone or anything but just pure love of everything and everyone. I look past my body at the town below; there are groups of people down below in a dry hot brown medium brown colored desert town in the middle of nowhere. The woman are wearing barkas so I believe it is somewhere in the Middle East. They have segregated themselves by race, religion, and other common factors. They are Angry at each other and fighting each other over their differences instead of healing each other and accepting each other because of what common grounds they share. I fly around the world hovering just above the towns and cities as I go and in each one I find the same kind of separation of humanity, even within the tribes there are hierarchy’s that separate the people and give them different statuses and they use this to make war with each other. I stop flying around and I look in front of me and off in the distance I see two unicorns playing in the clouds, they remind me of dolphins jumping out of the water and playing. The unicorns are so white they blend in with the next cloud that comes by; they appear to dissipate into a mist before my eyes. The sky is the brightest blue I have ever seen and the clouds look as soft of fluffy pillows with a cool mist on a hot day. My body feels free from pain, and my spirit feels free like an astral projection, I feel there is no limit to the size my soul can grow. Soon I am a Giant, and then I shrink my form down to the size of mouse. I giggle at my ability to change sizes which reminds me of Alice in wonderland. I affirm to myself that I really enjoy being big because I feel less confined. I let my form expand until I feel comfort, I stretch out my arms and I feel like I am drinking in energy with my limbs. I feel nourished from the inside out; I can feel the pores of my skin open up and shine like diamonds in the sunlight. I can feel every breath of crisp, clean air, as if it is the best oxygen I have ever inhaled. Joy fills my heart! I begin to feel a bit heavy and I let my body float back down to my bed. My husband is still asleep in bed, and so is the dog, so I climb into bed with him and try not to wake him as I pull the covers up to my neck. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Suicide bombings – not middle east | Project August | 2014-06-28 | 1d1a1n1 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| My first attempt at Project August last night. I had a dream about a group that was performing suicide bombings. I was shown that they were not in the middle east but it did seem like maybe northern Africa. The suicide bombers had a ritual that they would perform. I was in a small bus or van going into a village. The streets were wide and it had a feel of a 3rd world country with people walking in the street among the vehicles. The van stops and we all get out. At that point a tall man, dark black skin and ratty clothes, gets out and stands next to the vehicle. He pulls out a handgun and shoots a passerby which startles the people around the vehicle and then he turns the gun on himself. When he shoots himself, it triggers an explosive to go off in the vehicle. I got the impression that the act of him shooting himself was significant as the bombers believed that killing themselves prior to the actual explosion had meaning. I also got the impression that this bombing was not the only one and that the group responsible has done this before but I was seeing the process in detail. The only other detail I got was that there were not that many people around the vehicle that exploded so fatalities would be somewhat low which confused me. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Kalynngrad | Project August | 2014-06-29 | yoda | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Dream from June, 28, 2014 Noted at 05:12 Some people – including me – have gathered in a Building. It is the auditorium and sports hall of a school. It is a huge, high hall, wooden panels, the gable and the beams are visible. All wood is stained in a light brownish color. The light from hanging lamps is dimmed. We are together to talk about possible destinations for school exchange. A projector shows a map on a lowered screen. The map shows possible destinations at the northsea and the baltic sea. Cannot remember the exact shape of the coast. The sea was north, northwest. The coast ran from lower left to mid right of the screen. The destinations were marked like balloons in a comic. A pointy tip at the destination and a bubble which contained some little boxes. When clicking on these boxes – everthing worked with some kind of computer mouse-control – pictures and films of these specific place were shown in full screen. One of these destinations was especially interesting. It was a little village consisting of small wooden houses, just one floor. The walls were of dark brown, nearly black wooden planks. The front of the roofs, the doors, doorframes and windows, all were painted in very vivid colors: Red, blue, green, yellow and white. A joy to watch, a very picturesque scene. Between the houses, the path was paved with cobblestone. Very tidy and clean, no signs of decay. My view was along a row of houses to the left and a single house to the right into direction of the sea. There came a huge wave in from the sea – at first I thought of the normal surge of waves at this place. But as the wave came down the whole road between the houses, I was very surprised. The water had a wonderful deep green color. On top the spray was white. On the descending front I saw the white foam in great detail. Behind this wave there was already the next one. From my point of view I could see, that this one was higher than the houses. It was also dark green. Everything went slowly and very majestic. I thought to myself: “Wow – a great place for surfing!!” The film finished here and I could not see how the higher wave hit the village. Finally a speaker mentioned the name “Kalynngrad”. Remarks: I tried to draw/paint my view of the village and the waves – added this as jpg. The name the speaker mentioned sounded like “Ka”-“lyn”-“n”-“grad”, with a separately spoken “n”. I googled the name and found Kaliningrad – which is in fact at the right location in the baltic sea. I did not know – till now – where Kaliningrad is located. But the shown village and buildings do not meet Kaliningrad itself. This is a real city. I just saw a village. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Revolution in Southeast Asia | Project August | 2014-06-29 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was a younger child in a very shady orphanage in what felt like a Southeast Asian country. The conditions were horrible: overcrowding, hunger, work details. There were mixed races in the orphanage and that was a problem, because foreigners were not welcomed into the country. I was one of those children from another race. I somehow escaped from the orphanage to the streets outside. There, I noticed people roaming the streets with weapons. Bicyclists were carrying assault weapons. There was looting in stores. Men were stealing liquor. There was one very strong man who could lift pallets of items: food, liquor, whatever he could get his hands on. He was tossing aside canisters of propane like they were plastic toys. They were looting because revolution was coming and they were taking whatever they could before there was nothing left. I was just trying to stay out of sight so they wouldn’t kill me, because they were shooting or hanging all foreigners and dissidents they could find. I knew I’d be on their list. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Women’s Clinic | Project August | 2014-06-29 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I needed my yearly gynecological exam, which I’ve been putting off. I wasn’t comfortable with any nearby physician, so I decide to drive an hour away to a small town woman’s clinic. From the outside, I could see it was busy and you needed to be “buzzed” into the clinic through a gatekeeper at the front door. I was buzzed in and ushered through a maze of hallways toward the back rooms. I was asked if I wanted an exam table or a bed. I was hemming and hawing about the merits of each option and not wanting to be too picky when I was passed by a male and female doctor in blue hospital scrubs. As we continued walking through the hallway, I passed a gurney with a partially swaddled baby on it. He looked like he’d just been abandoned there. He was awake and rolling and I was fearful he’d fall off if left unattended. Since no one else was paying attention to him, I repaired the swaddling with his blue blanket, used my arm like a bumper so he couldn’t roll off the gurney, and sang to him until the nurse who was ushering me back to my room said, “I have half a mind to send that baby back where it belongs.” The impression was a young mother had just abandoned him there, not knowing what to do with him. I went to the exam room with the bed. There was a television monitor that I was watching while I waited for the exam. It had dream code words on it and the person watching the patterns had spotted a reference to an arms trade. Then the dream code turned into a hospital sheet about the births and deaths in the facility. When my examiner came in, she was a young Mennonite girl: small white bonnet partially covering her hair, but a colorful printed dress that went to her ankles. She was accompanied by my nurse. With them was another hospital bed. In that bed was a body covered with a sheet. All I could see were a pair of dark high top tennis shoes and the lower portion of a pair of blue jeans. They never acknowledged the body, but I was sure it was a dead child, somewhere around 10 or 11 and male, because of the clothes. The Mennonite girl didn’t was to do the exam. They kept trying to tell me why, but I had trouble hearing them. I thought they were saying I was already a “doe” which didn’t make sense. Finally, the girl motioned that was too old and inflexible between my legs to need the exam. I let her know that I exercise and dance regularly and was plenty flexible. She tested it and found I was right, so she began the uncomfortable portion of the exam. What she found didn’t make her happy. She kept scraping out blood and tissue, infection, etc. She was really disturbed. She wanted to alert the CDC about the presence of Hib. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Heavy Cake Powder and Cheeze Whiz | Project August | 2014-07-01 | sherriann | |||||||||||||||||||||
| PA (1) June 28/29, 2014 I am a blond man. I and a coworker at a Nuclear Power Plant have climbed up a 40 foot ladder. We are standing on a ledge. I am clinging to a large rusted steel grating. He reaches around and over my right shoulder to pluck a filter out of a large rotting wooden box. He descends the ladder and disappears. I hear sirens going off outside the huge, nearly empty concrete dome that I am in. I look down and the ladder is gone. Now, I watch myself as the man slowly walk along the ledge around the dome. Then I watch as some large cardboard boxes situated on a platform ahead of the man begin to break open and spew a heavy cake like powder substance. The powder is a tannish off white colour and doesn’t create any dust. Emotions: abandoned; concerned. PA (2) June 28/29, 2014 I reach into the fridge and withdraw a jar of Cheeze Whiz. I open the jar and find that it has been scraped nearly clean inside except, on a small ridge of cheese at the bottom of the jar, there is a full grown spider curled into a ball but alive. Emotion: puzzled. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The Last Day of Calm | Project August | 2014-07-01 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| We had severe thunderstorm warnings and tornado warnings from midnight until I finally went to sleep sometime after 1:00 a.m. Before I would fall back to sleep (restless night with all the weather alerts), my intention was to dream about and remember dreaming of a major headline for August 1, 2014. This dream happened sometime between 1 and 7 am. In the one coherent dream I remember, I woke up at a vacation retreat in Canada, a lot like―but not the same as―the one we used to frequent in Bracebridge, Ontario, which is in the lake district and a popular area for the wealthy to build vacation homes. Dense woods, glacial lakes, biting insects. I mention the insects because somewhere in my imagery I had biting insects in my hair and along the nape of my neck which I was trying to brush out and kill. It was a Friday morning (which a check of my calendar fits with the weekday August 1st will fall on and which is something I don’t remember knowing before I went to sleep). I was sad because I had to leave the resort that day and I was finally rested and at peace which is something I’ve been sorely needing for some time. I went outside to lounge in the cool morning air when another male guest came out to join me in the quiet appreciation of our final morning at the resort. We were not sitting next to each other shoulder to shoulder, because that would have looked like we were being too intimate. Instead, we were sitting as if on the ground or in low chaise lounges, side-by-side but facing one another with our legs outstretched but touching so I had an up-close view of his feet. My husband, who in this dream was named Jack (not my husband’s name), was not with me and was wandering elsewhere on the property. Another man joined us, again sitting so no one was sitting shoulder to shoulder. We were talking about how peaceful things were and how none of us wanted to leave and grateful we still had a few more hours before we had to depart sometime before noon. I was watching a GPS device that pinpointed everyone’s location (imagine Harry Potter’s Marauder’s Map as an electronic device with Pac Man graphics). On it, I suddenly noticed my husband’s name. According to the device, he was walking around a trail on the perimeter of the property compass heading just behind my head, but I could not spot him when I turned to look. I could see other people all around the trail, but the device appeared to be wrong. Then I spotted him. Sorry, that’s when the cat woke me up. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| White House selling off everything | Project August | 2014-07-02 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| In last night’s dream, I was trying to buy very fine, white lace curtains. The pattern was very intricate and I apparently found a match on an eBay-like site and went to the woman’s home to inspect her curtains. The house was a very upscale, white home with a marble exterior in a style quite like a museum home (think the Louvre). From the windows of this home, you could see other equally magnificent homes around it. We were several floors up and the curtains in question were hanging in her window. She wanted $50,000 for them. That was simply too steep for me and I was wondering why I was even in this house and considering these drapes because they were way out of my price range. I don’t hang in circles that can afford $50,000 drapes. Then I wondered why someone who could afford $50,000 curtains would be selling them on eBay and it occurred to me: she was hurting financially and was selling off what she could. The room had a few nice antiques in it, but not many. It felt like this was not the first item she had parted with, and that she had little else of value left to sell. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Three Skydivers | Project August | 2014-07-02 | 1d1a1n1 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Last night I told myself to dream of an event that will take place in August 2014 and will make the news. I then had a dream about three skydivers who made the news. I do not know what exactly they did, but my impression was that they were in trouble for what they did. I was to go interview them. I then found an American flag and it was heavy and soaking wet. I spread it across the bed of a black pickup truck. I have no idea what the significance of this was. I then met the skydivers. One male, two female. The male was not injured during the stunt, one female suffered internal bruising and had to be hospitalized briefly. The other had very minor scrapes. That third girl also was missing the lower half of her leg. This was something that existed prior to the skydiving stunt as she had a prosthetic. I never found out what the stunt was. I had the impression that this event took place in the south-east US like Florida or the Carolinas. Later in the dream I was in a coin store. People were trying to buy gold coins but it seemed expensive for me. I asked for junk silver
. The clerk said that he has junk silver that are rounds that were not stamped correctly by the mint. I wanted to buy them. While I was there, I looked up at the TV on the wall at the store and the story about the skydivers was on. I never did find out what exactly the skydivers did to make the news. |
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| Home Furnishings | Project August | 2014-07-03 | heavendreamer | |||||||||||||||||||||
| The dream took place in a large warehouse full of a wide variety of home furnishings. The warehouse was located in LA, I don’t know how I knew this but it was the feeling I had. The warehouse was segmented into rooms that flowed together. I was looking for a child’s baby grand piano. Don’t know why I would have wanted this item. I was happy and filled with hopeful expectation. I was guided from room to room by a female guide. She was very knowledgeable and as I picked up different items she gave me the history behind it. I finally found the child piano, but when I opened it it had been converted to a storage cabinet. As I looked up in disappointment, I saw two pregnant women. One was tall and the other short. I felt extreme joy. I said to the guide. “Wow, two in a state of grace.” I found this an odd thing to say, even in the dream, but the guide and I seemed to share a special understanding of what this meant. The dream ended there. (I dreamed this a few nights ago, but was unable to submit until now.) Just a note on my submitted PA dreams. Many of my dreams take place in LA although I am on the opposite coast. Odd to me. Also forgot to add in my last submission that when I questioned where all the furnishings came from I was told “Families that faced disasters like fire.” Even though this didn’t make sense, I accepted this explanation but felt sadness. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Golf and an Amusing Battle | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Eric | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Date: 2014-07-03 Time: 0352 Type: Flash, spliced, POV I am observing the final hole of a golf tournament. The hole is not very long and almost perfectly straight, turning a little left. There are trees behind and on both sides of the green. Somebody named “Jack” is also associated with this event. After watching several golfers tee off, I get distracted and miss the group with Charl Schwartzel. I ask one of the other golfers about Charl’s score and they tell me that he had just finished with a +1 “on the card.” Apparently, he had taken “too much club off the tee”, went out of bounds and had to play a provisional. He ended up saving bogey, but I still felt disappointed since he is my favourite golfer. A splice occurs and suddenly I am in the company of what feels like an “evil” woman dressed in a white top and what looks like a “kilt” of some kind. Her and I fight (skilled martial arts) in a “laundry” room with several “racks of clothing.” This woman calls me “dumb” after noticing a thread on a sweater that she just bought required fixing. This upset her very much and we each grab two “clickable” pens and battle with a pen in each hand. I finally manage to get her on the ground and tell her that “she reminds me of someone I used to know” and that this person died of AIDS (which was a lie). I go on to tell her that “we are responsible for everything that we experience.” I add that the store may have been at fault for stocking a defective sweater, but the person who bought it is also fully responsible for their purchase. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A Convenient Glimpse | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Eric | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Date: 2014-07-03 Time: 0403 Type: Spliced, linear, POV I am a poor middle-aged man walking in the downtown area of a nearby town. The weather is generally sunny, with a few clouds and it is nearing evening as I approach a white, self-standing convenient store. In my pocket is about 25 cents. As I open the side door of the store, there is a display of different kinds of bubble-gums to my left, hanging on racks similar to what you would see in a dollar store. I sit down on the ground to examine the very bottom row and notice a nickel and dime on the floor, yet I am hesitant to take them while the store owner is watching me. In an attempt to appear “just like another customer”, I pretend to examine the bazooka-joe gums, while surreptitiously pocketing the extra change. After choosing and paying for my gum, I head over to a small corner across from the register where there is a tight group of about 5 large, and very old-looking arcade machines. I examine each machine intending to make some money on them (somehow), and look for the one that costs a quarter, but realize that 2 or 3 of them are out of order. The largest one to my left also appears to be some sort of “lottery dispenser.” Giving up, I walk aimlessly around the store to examine the merchandise and meet 2 old men sitting on chairs just around the corner. I take out my gum and start to chew it as I examine the comic. It appears to be a single frame of 2 black stick figures in conversation. Although I can’t remember the words, the gag is in the word play. One of the old men asks for the comic and I hand it over asking, “how many comics do you think were ever made?” He replies, “somewhere in the thousands.” Sitting down to the man’s left, I see that there is another, napkin-sized, single-frame comic on a stand right in front of me. It is a crude black and white drawing of typical comic-type old man with a large nose. The picture includes two frames of the same man next to each other, with the one on the right stretched horizontally. The “moral” of the comic is that, despite the distortion making it appear as if they are different men, they are in fact “the same person.” Just then, two friends of mine (married) enter the store and make an innocuous purchase. Getting the impression that they “saw me” I hurry over to follow them. Outside of the store, I turn left and hear a car starting up in a nearby parking lot. As I rush over, I get a glimpse of them making their way around a street to my left in a lengthy, classic-looking, cream coloured, souped-up, Cadillac. The engine itself has a deep rumble with a “tinny” finish. I make an attempt to follow them, only to discover that I can leap great distances. It’s now quite dark outside and there are strange 4-5 foot tall, skinny brown entities walking the sidewalks. The sheer sight of them gives me the creeps and I do my best to avoid them as I struggle to stay in the air. Unfortunately, it isn’t long until I accidentally bump into one of them, giving a kind of terrified, yet apologetic yell as I do so. To my surprise, the silent, large-headed entity doesn’t seem to mind and is rather courteous as it makes its way around me. Nevertheless, I do my best to avoid another encounter and eventually succeed in flying. This is where a splice occurs and several images of meeting with a “therapist” friend (who a teacher in this waking lifetime) layer this dream in which he gives me reassurances regarding my life’s direction. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| “There and Back Again” | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Eric | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Date: 2014-07-03 Time: 0403 Type: Spliced, non-linear, POV As I fly at night over the escarpment in my home town, I attempt to head in the direction of my “home” by using the bluish-white lights from a nearby hospital as a landmark. The hospital appears different in shape (almost cylindrical), yet its helicopter landing pad (the large H) is unmistakable. Banking left as if skating in the air, it isn’t long until I pass a strange (yet familiar), well-lit, four-pillared monument / memorial inside of a hollowed-out cuboidal structure. In the centre is some kind of “portal device” used for travel. Since I recognize this as just another landmark, I don’t really give it another thought. Just beyond this iconic monument is my “home” – a very large facility that I describe as an “open-type prison / residential dormitory” that is populated by contented inmates (in orange jumpsuits and numbers on their left chest) as well as the workers who have open friendly contact with them (on the residential side). Upon arrival, it almost seems as if the situation is being narrated to me by an external party. The essence of the message is that the people working here have been here so long that they have “forgotten who they are.” Their content finally abates when some kind of a “disease breaks out” and causes a great disturbance. The next thing I know, I am having a personal meeting with a short, pudgy white man dressed in a dark blue business suit. He is a former prisoner who has agreed to work here and now lives on the residential side of the facility. He tells me about his “dream” of owning a particular car that got him through his imprisonment and takes me up to his “compartment” to show me the hand-held model. On a large shelf behind his desk, he pulls out a dark blue “Porsche Carrera” and hands it to me. In utter shock and disbelief, I exclaim “Oh my goodness! You can’t tell me…this is the EXACT ONE that I wanted!” He smiles and says that I can keep it. Next, he directs me to his “partner” – a young black man (~18 years old), and apparently another worker in this facility. Descending the stairs to his residence, I ask him if he’s “ever been in jail for a year”, and he tells me that he has. The motivation behind my question is that “I am looking for someone to relate to.” When we reach his quarters, the white man phones him on the telephone and they have a conversation together, in front of me. Intending not to disturb them, I inspect the floor and find a small “hot wheels” 18-wheeler toy truck, which I pick up. Examining it closer, I notice that it is one of those trucks that changes colour when exposed to heat from your hand as you hold it. I cry out excitedly as the truck turns from dark purple to a neon green in my left hand. As the young man turns to me, I can hear the white man on the phone ask him to “guess what [he] gave [me].” The young man says in a slightly surprised voice, “Oh, you gave him the model.” I get the impression that it was this young black man who originally gave the white man the model of the Porsche. I hand the now neon green truck back over to the young man and it turns purple again. Footnote: Apparently, the title of this dream addresses the circumstance regarding the break out of the “disease” in the prison. After the inmates “freak out”, something causes them to leave and eventually return. No other details are given. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A Costly Decision | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Eric | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Date: 2014-07-03 Time: 0602 Type: Flash, linear, POV I am the lead of three commanders of an army that is lounging in the basement of what feels like a school-type building. The man who acts as the “janitor” of this building is also one of the commanders. Currently, we are thoughtfully considering a decision whether or not to attack another nearby army that is much larger than ours. Following our “first wave” attack that took place “upstairs” and comprised over 300 soldiers, the remainder of our forces have descended into the basement. The incident causes the other two commanders sitting in front of me to mistrust each other. The night goes by and when I wake up, I find that most of our soldiers are dead. A single soldier descends from upstairs and once again urges us to make a decision. The other commanders and I ask him how many soldiers we have left and he replies “just over half” – approximately 150. The man also informs us that we have about 1000 pieces of “supplies” to go around. To lighten the mood, I pull out a bottle of strong cologne and spray myself as if it were “women’s perfume.” One of the other commanders makes a grab for the bottle and sprays the other commander, who recoils. Unfortunately, the nozzle was pointing in the wrong direction and the liquid sprays up into the air, suffocating the others with its strength. We all have a good laugh and make the decision to attack. At that moment, I suddenly come to the realization that “this is all some sort of game.” A man close to me mentions that “this is just like the time that [I] was kidnapped on the island south of Africa.” I ask him “you mean the dangerous river islands?” He says, “Yeah.” I add, “That’s the most dangerous place in the world to fish (for sharks).” | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| “The Failing of the Ruling” | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Eric | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Date: 2014-07-03 Time: 0755 Type: Spliced, linear, POV Following a short flash dream in which I forget my brother’s fishing rod (2 of mine as well) at a fishing trip with my parents and my brother, I suddenly find myself in the backseat of my good childhood friend’s car driven by his father. It is about mid-morning on a cloudy day and we are on our way to a local public conservation area for some shore fishing. After parking in a sandy lot next to the boat launch area, I head down to a 20-foot long white, wooden dock next to the ramp. Just beyond the dock and a little to the right are a few patches of lily pads into which I cast a rather large lure with a bait-casting rod from the shore. Although the pads are quite a distance away, I’m rather surprised at how far the lure travels. As I work the bait over to the right, I begin to notice just how shallow the crystal-clear water is. I estimate it to be no more than a foot deep. Suddenly, a late-to-middle aged man with greying hair and moustache approaches me from behind and takes up a position to my right. He smiles at me and makes a comment that I can’t remember as he prepares to cast out his own bait (a cluster of about 5-6 small, pink-coloured leaches on a hook, below a red and white bobber) into the lily pads. Not wanting to disturb his fishing, I move onto the dock and continue casting in and around the foliage, apparently intent on catching northern pike. After the man casts his bobber into a clear pocket of water in between a few lily pads, I suddenly become aware of a rather large, dark greenish lizard-like creature following my bait in the water. A little further beyond it and to the right, I can also see a much larger, child-size dinosaur-looking creature (complete with dorsal fin) walking towards the man’s bobber (literally wading through the water). For a moment, this unusual sight does not perturb me, until I hear a peculiar rustling in the tall bushes growing up the bank to my right. I instantly get the feeling that the man and I are in imminent danger, so I shout to him that we need to run. As I say this, a hail of primitive weapons such as arrows and strange-looking spears begin to rain down on us from the direction of the rustling. In my mind, an image of the attackers begins to form – they are humanoid, barbarian, man-sized monsters with slick grey skin, and grotesque faces and large fangs. For some reason, the word “zombies” comes to mind. My friend’s father and I make it back to the car without my friend, who has apparently been taken captive by the monsters. I jump into the back seat as my friend’s dad floors the car towards the exit. Approaching from the other direction (entering the area) is another vehicle filled with the monsters and we suddenly become aware that we are trapped. Unable to leave my friend behind, I yell “I have to go BACK!” The man slams on the breaks and directs my attention to a number of short, black kitana-looking swords on the seat beside me. He tells me to grab 3 of them (two for myself, and one for his son) and get out of the car. I toss him another one of the swords and we begin massacring the barrage of monsters that surround us (the gruesomeness of the battle is difficult to describe). Eventually, we get separated and I head back down to the boat launch. Up on the bank on the right, there is a 10-foot tall fence that runs across the land about 50 feet beyond the water. On the other side of the fence, I can already see a small group of humans being forcefully led (taken prisoner) by a band of monsters, moving towards their adjacent land. My friend appears to be among them. Enraged, I sprint forward with such force that some of the armed monsters stop in their tracks. In less than 2 seconds, I am over the fence and attacking them with all of my strength. The small sword in my hands is considerably more maneuverable than their larger blades, however, I shortly begin to feel greatly outnumbered. Ten paces in front of me, the leader of the group smiles on as he watches me struggle in the battle. Noticing his complacency, I suddenly summon some kind of force from the sky (aiming my sword upwards) and wince as a number of thin lightning bolts strike him down. I toss two of the other swords that I brought with me to my friend and another man in the group. Now, we can sense the monsters becoming fearful, and some of them flee. Encouraging the other captive humans to find their own way, my friend and I head back down to the boat launch. Looking up the ramp, I can see another group of 12 or so human faces huddled about 20 paces from the road (on the left), looking apprehensive. Their bodies are hidden from view by the hill. As I make my way up to them with the intention of reassuring them, I instantly become aware that this is a trap. Out of the bush to my left walks the last and largest (quite possibly the “chief”) of the monsters, ready to do battle. My next memory is of looking down a long, well-lit stairwell, at the bottom of which lies the chief monster, gravely wounded. My friend is there and awaits me to deliver the final blow. Already, there is a great deal of blood and I am careful to wear hand protection for some reason. Although I deliver the final thrust into the abdomen of the monster, we find that he just won’t die. Instead, he begins to dictate a very long speech, which, in time, turns into an interesting discussion, the contents of which I cannot remember. Immediately to our left is my friend’s father we records the words in a long letter. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Military Induction | Project August | 2014-07-04 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| It was August and my son was already supposed to be at his engineering university, but he and his other friends, all recent high school graduates, were being inducted into the military. He was wearing a brown uniform and they were being lined up for their housing assignments. He was supposed to be in the same post as his friends, but protocol was interrupted and someone else was put in his place, while my son ended up in the next slot. He seemed content with his choice, but I was not. He was supposed to be in college. I went searching for him, but I was not allowed to see him. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Seven | Project August | 2014-07-07 | J Awake | |||||||||||||||||||||
| 7-7-14 I am just walking,it summer warm. It is daytime and everywhere I go I see the number 7. 7people,addresses all in sevens 7,store 7items being bought .. every where 7.. I woke up very agitated . that I did not know what it meant.When I looked it up this is what it means: The number 7 is the seeker, the thinker, the searcher of Truth (notice the capital “T”). More here:http://www.numerology.com/numerology-numbers/7 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 6/7 Metallic Bridge | Project August | 2014-07-08 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was looking at a construction that I would call a bridge. It was metallic, a lot of steel, somewhat shiny. I heard loud noise, a kind of thundering and then the sound of metal breaking, a construction collapsing. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 6/7 partygoers forming a tree | Project August | 2014-07-08 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was standing at a body of water, a lake or a massive pool and watched revellers in shirts of green, red and brown who were dancing to wild music. I was then lifted up and saw the scene from above. All people were very close together now. Those in brown danced their way to the bottom of the scene, those in green then formed an archetypical tree while those in red were now to the left of the scene. Then the ‘tree’ moved apart and together again in a left and a right half. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 7/8 not able to cross a lake | Project August | 2014-07-08 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was at the shore of a lake or wide river together with a group of students. We needed to cross this body of water. i was looking for a way and had the feeling I don’t have the right tools, something here is missing. Then I realised that that used to be a bridge there that now I couldn’t see, a fact that irritated me. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Necklace from Rieks (August 2014) | Project August | 2014-07-10 | Saartje | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Princess Juliana is sitting next to me at a large table with many people. Alie comes up to me and says: ‘you have to ask Rieks if he gives you a necklace. ‘ She has a lot of jewelry in her face and around her neck. From her neck comes out a strange bump, with a kind of nozzle. It looks like a nipple but it is not. She lifts up the bump and there comes something milky out of the nozzle which she licks up. I think over her remark a long time and then I say that I don’t wear necklaces. She says that I have been in the Panorama with the Queen. Then, she sees that the queen is sitting next to me and she bows for her. Rieks comes along and says that I have been in the Panorama with the Princess. He looks like a pimp with a lot of jewelry. I say that I don’t need a necklace.. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Inflatable Cows | Project August | 2014-07-10 | Elyse | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I’m not sure how I got there, but I was on a large school bus full of people. There were a bunch of little kids sitting at the front of the bus, and towards the back were the grown-ups… many of them I recognized because I had grown up with them in school. I tried to keep to myself in my seat. I had my kindle, a purse, and a 3DS with me. My boys are all very fond of the Pokémon cartoon, and since they weren’t with me, I just looked at the title screen of the game and thought of them. After a while, a little boy came and sat next to me and asked me if he could play the 3DS… I wasn’t fond of the idea of just letting a strange kid loose with my Boys’ game system, but I couldn’t’ say ‘no’ to those huge eyes, so I let him play it. After a while another little boy came to me and asked me for my kindle. I didn’t really want to let this kid loose with it, especially considering how expensive it had been and the fact I had several digital books on it, but I caved for him too. Then, after a few more minutes, a little girl came to me. She tried to watch the boys play games on the other devices, neither were too eager to entertain her because she was much younger than them. (The boys looked to be around 9 or 10 and the little girl looked to be about 5…) She poked her lip out and asked me if I had another game and I told her I did not. Then she started complaining about how she was hungry. Looking down the aisle of the bus, there weren’t many people. it was fairly empty and none of the adults there seemed to be these kid’s mother… so I dug around in my purse hoping to find some sort of snack for her, and ended up pulling out a baby cow with purple spots. It was short and fat with stubby little legs. It was adorable, but it was hardly food. I gave it to the little girl hoping that it would at least keep her occupied until she could get some food. She cradled the baby cow as if it were a baby, and every once in a while I would catch it move as if it WERE a real baby cow. I watched the boys play the games… one was playing a game where he was matchmaking for dinosaurs. I didn’t remember having ever bought a game like that… the little boy looked up at me and told me it was a good thing that I was an amazon member with a kindle because otherwise I would not have the free world-wide wifi. That kinda shocked me because I was unaware that there was any kind of free internet service, but I guess I lucked out. Focusing back on the little girl, somehow I managed to find some water and gave it to her thinking she would drink it. She took the water and poured it over that inflatable cow… and it grew. It got bigger and bigger until it was about 4 feet tall, and stopped. She giggled and laughed then poured some more water on it, and it grew and grew until it was the size of a full-grown cow. I was a bit shocked. I couldn’t imagine how this fake cow was growing like that, but it was fun to watch… but at the same time kind of horrific. I noticed that we were in Natchitoches, Louisiana now. I had no idea what I was doing traveling so far north. The bus driver called back to everyone that the bus would keep going North so everyone who didn’t want to journey that way should get off at this stop. I collected my devices from the little boys and said my goodbyes. I needed to go South. WAY South. I was thinking about how I needed to call my husband to come get me. It would be about a 3 hour drive just to get where I was, but I didn’t have much choice. Digging around in my purse, I couldn’t find a phone, so my only hope was a pay phone… if I could find one. I walked over to some gas pumps. Another little girl who had seen me give the first little girl the inflatable cow, tugged at my skirt and asked if I might have another. I didn’t know, so I dug in the bottomless pit that was my purse and managed to find another one, this time with orange spots. I handed it to her and she hugged, kissed and petted it as if it were a real calf. I had never seen kids treat toys as carefully as these two little girls did, but I shrugged it off and looked for a pay phone. After a while, the little girl came back and asked me how the other girl had made hers grow. I told her that she had poured water over it. Across from us just so happened to be a car wash with a busted pipe. Water was everywhere, so the little girl ran with her inflatable cow into the water, and set it down. The cow began to grow while the little girl danced around it cheering. I thought this was kinda cute and couldn’t help but to smile about it. I turned to find the pay phone I had been looking for and next to it were two manly farmers talking to one another. They were discussing killing and eating that little girls inflatable cow! I laughed to myself and thought, “Well, the joke would be on them! There isn’t going to be a lot of nutrition in that plastic cow!” Then they started talking about how the inflatable pigs were much cheaper and even easier to grow! These guys were serious? I thought they were just being mean, but I guess they were honestly planning on raising inflatable animals for food. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 9/10 | Project August | 2014-07-10 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was standing outside with my hands being bound together behind my back with an iron chain. The chain was locked to an iron handle mounted on a brick wall. I had to pull and pull, trying getting the metal bar out of the wall. I could here the sound of metal or iron clashing. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 9/10 group of students over footpath | Project August | 2014-07-10 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Am something like a host with a uniform in orange, waiting at a train station for a train to arrive to receive and lead a group of children, students up from the station over a metal staircase/footpath. I have a checklist and watch them getting out of the train, counting them and leading them up. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Underwater Missile Stationing | Project August | 2014-07-11 | sherriann | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I’ve been away from the Net for the most part since June 26 so don’t have much of a clue about what is going on ‘out there’ right now. July 9/10,2014 I watch as a row of probably 5 missiles are being set up, pointing upward,under ocean water and I can’t figure out how missiles can be set off from under water. These are the same kind of missiles that, in a previous dream, were in storage except this time there is a reversed swastika stenciled on each one. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Have to Quit PA Dreaming | Project August | 2014-07-11 | sherriann | |||||||||||||||||||||
| July 10/11, 2014 Two men and I were doing a home renovation. One man, a blond, was doing plumbing and I could see him through a hole in the floor. Another man, dark haired, was doing electrical work and I could see him through a hole in the wall to the next room. I just finished installing a window and was standing holding a hammer when we heard a strange noise coming from the corner wall where the two men were working. The the white door in the room I was in slammed shut. I said, “That wasn’t me. There’s something in here with us!” Afraid/fear is the word. Then, something/one with arms tokk hold of me from behind in my sleep and I began to fight it off knowing I was stronger than ‘it’. One of my granddaughters was sleeping with me and woke me up before moving to another bedroom to sleep. I’ve been waiting for a while now for my train of missile/nuclear/bunker dreams to take a turn and now that it has happened, I have to quit this… I’ve been warned. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| July 10/11 construction on holy ground and trying to avoid buying an apartment there | Project August | 2014-07-11 | Mike YHWH | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I ride a super fast horse down a path looking to my left at a hill/construction site on a plot of land that was previously considered holy. There storage halls and buildings are being constructed. I can talk to my horse, feeling that all here is alive/intelligent and man should not interfere. Better for people not to move there, it will collapse. Later, I and my wife are in a showroom apartment of this a building that was erected on that construction site and she checks every detail while I try to find the switch that stops the ultra modern sliding doors to open (like in Star trek) automatically. She wants a 2nd air-condition unit while I maintain that the fuse is not good enough for one. I fear that this steel construct will collapse. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Volcano Tremors, and Rushing Water | Project August | 2014-07-13 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meditation – August 5th 2014 7/13/2014 6:10am I am in paradise hiking up a dormant volcano, I get the feeling that I am on a very large island even though I cannot see any water from the top of this volcano. The top of the mountain reminds me of a stiff pancake on the top of an ice cream cone, with the large flat shape of the top that hangs off one side. I feel a tremor and I see smoke from the top of the mountain, as I am making my way down on the trail. I cut through the thick dense jungle like brush to get off of the mountain faster. I make it to a small village where there are huts and bungalows on this flat plateau three quarters of the way down. The locals act like the tremors are no big deal, there is nothing at out of the ordinary for them, and they are used to the Tremors so they think nothing of it. I see people I recognize there, my husband is there, but in this dream he isn’t my husband any more he is my Ex. He is there with his new girlfriend and her family. His new girlfriend is very upset that I am there. I go into a club house type bungalow that looks more like an island living room, with Hawaiian printed style cloth chairs on wicker frames, I sit down but soon comes in his new girlfriend’s mother who reminds me of the character from “Monster-In-Law” the movie, she is very uppity and mean, she is bad mouthing me and accusing me of being there to break them up! Another tremor comes and we run outside. I see water coming down the dirt road, at first there is only a little water, I turn to “monster in law” to find she has turned into one of my business clients (nick named the ice queen for good reason) I begin to run down the road to find a place to shelter in. I yell at the ice queen to run, but she is standing there with the look of surprise on her face as a large rush of water swallows her up and drags her down the mountain in a flood of now soupy chocolate milk colored water. The locals are now running everywhere. They do not understand where the water is coming from, but run in fear. (I get the feeling from seeing the locals that I maybe in the Philippines, although I have never been there before I get this impression because of their unique accents when speaking English, as well as their sandals, clothing, and the color and of their skin which is not really dark but not white either, as well as their small size.) I run to a nearby bungalow that is not in the direct path of the water and I find my husband there with his new girlfriend, he answers the door, I push my way in and shut the door quickly, I begin to block the doors on the hill side slope to stop any water from getting in, they think I am making this up to break them up. The new girlfriends father walks in, he confirms everything that I am saying, and he tells them to come into his adjoining room. He opens a door and we walk into a windowed room filled with antiques, it is like a rich person’s paradise, we walk around the room and see how much water is coming down the hill. We scratch our heads because we have no idea where in the heck the water is coming from! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| PRESIDENT CHURCH NAZI, TIGHT SHIP. CONGREGATION DEDICATED ROISTER LEGAL | Project August | 2014-07-14 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meditation August 15th 2014 7/14/2014 8:13am ****(This dream didn’t make a lot of sense, but for some reason there are key words that have to be stressed, so they are capped and bold, this is the message I got from the dream) I am the right hand woman of a volunteer group. The PRESIDENT of the volunteer group 501c3 CHURCH is running the congregation like a NAZI, TIGHT SHIP. CONGREGATION members have to be DEDICATED enough to volunteer their private phone numbers to be published on a memo ROISTER and distributed. I am trying to find out if this is LEGAL. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Pending Dreams | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Title | Category | Created | Owner | |||||||||||||||||||||
| PROJECT DIVERSITY – THE COUP | Project August | 2014-07-14 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meditation August 15th 2014 7/14/2014 11:30am I am traveling though China at an airport, we now have to drive from China to Kazakhstan, through Russia and into the Ukraine. I am a female spy and I work for the CIA, and NSA. I am not working though I am with a friend and we are on vacation traveling. We planned this trip month in advance, and we chose to drive for site seeing purposes. After we get into Kazakhstan we stop in a place called Fantasy World, I laugh at the little theme park my friend had on her must see list! I notice a car following us with two large men in the car; we are now driving out Kazakhstan and into Russia. Once we get into Russia, I am surprised to see so many farming areas there. We stop for Gas in Russia and the two men are still in the same black car following us. As I am walking around trying to stretch my legs I am pulled into a second car. My friend is also grabbed; one of the men in the first car takes our rental car. We are taken to a wooded cabin; my friend and I are beaten and left in a pile of hay on what appears to be a barn floor. There are chains around my ankle. My friend who was terminally ill and this trip was her bucket list is now lying lifeless next to me. I already know she is dead. They knew it too, because they didn’t chain her up. The men bring in two other Americans and beat them as well. They are using brain washing techniques on us. I spend two months in the Barn with these other Americans; we are separated though so I don’t know what they look like. My mind is more powerful than they thought and I am not broken by these attempts, but as the other Americans begin to convert I pretend to convert as well. Once we are converted to suicide bombers and terrorists, and then put us in the cabin in our own rooms. In my room under the mattress I find a leather bound journal. I begin to use it and continue my psychic work. I beg one of the big men for a leather bound book with blank pages for writing down my thoughts in. He gives me one and it is just like the one I found under my mattress, I am writing all of the time the stuff they are telling me so I won’t forget the propaganda, I notice when I am sleeping one of the men comes in and reads it when he thinks I am asleep. THE PROPAGANDA – I am being brain washed and setup to look like an ISIS Suicide Bomber, they will soon send me back to the US on a plane with the other two, who really are brain washed, first we must go to the middle east to make it look like we are ISIS converts, before we touch ground, the plane and the other explosives within are to be used as a bomb. THE REAL JOURNAL – they are trying to get the US to war with ISIS, to go into IRAN, this is a slide of hand so Russia (Putin) can have free reign to do as he pleases Kazakhstan. They want the Americans busy so they can take over other areas around Russia. This is the Coup! Americans will too busy to defend our new territories. Russia is financing ISIS. I keep my real Journal Hidden. I use my abilities to know we are leaving the next day, so I take my real journal and I put it under my shirt in the front, and I carry my fake journal in my arms. I am taken in a black car to an old building that is a church and doubles as a classroom. The priest is also the teacher, I believe this is orthodox catholic. (I have no idea what that means but the words came to me in pictures) The two men take my fake journal and send me in to take a test, (Maybe a piolets license, or a license of some kind) On my test I write all the right answers and I also write a note at the top and hand it to the teacher, since I don’t know if the other two American are in this room with me I cannot ask the teacher for help out right. The teacher takes the test and puts it into a pile with others. I know this is my only chance so I start crying and I ask the teacher to please check my test right now that it is very important that he grade it right away. He acts like I am over reacting, and am bothering him. But he wants me to stop crying so he opens the test and reads the note on the inside. He takes me into a confession booth and I slip him the real journal and my passport, and beg him to take this to the US Embassy as soon as he can because I am an American who has been kidnapped and I am being held hostage. He assures me he will do this, I tell him when he gets there to use the Government code name “DIVERSITY” and who to speak with. There is a picture of the code name, a red block around the writing and the word DIVERSITY is in white. The priest gives me a license of some kind, although I cannot read it. I walk back out to the car, not knowing if he will really pass the message along. As we are driving to an airport to get on a plane I begin to meditate, I am trying to get the word out about what is going on in case the priest is either killed or in on the Coup. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Future of Humanity | Project August | 2014-07-15 | J Awake | |||||||||||||||||||||
| 7/15/2014 This dream starts I am walking earth, above it almost like in orbit. Someone besides me shows me Humanity and what it becomes with out love and compassion for all things. Everything is dead looking and burning and ashes, Next we move into a light the earth becomes beautiful shinning this is Humanity with love and compassion for all things. I am told we are at the brink and these are the only 2 outlooks for the future of mankind. I turn to ask a question as to how long do we have and I wake up. With the words in my head not long!! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Danger | Project August | 2014-07-16 | NativeAmericanDreamWeaver | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meditation – August 5th 2014. 7/15/2014 9:12am & 7:12pm **SPECIAL NOTE: I had this dream at 9:12am, & again at 7:12pm during my nap, I recorded what I could this morning but it didn’t make sense enough to write but one line. At my nap time dream I got the message a little clearer but this was still very hard to understand and interpret.** I am doing day to day stuff, such as cleaning, babysitting, shopping, chores, school. During this day to day stuff I find myself walking and swimming through either the hall of a ship sitting on the surface of the water or in the cargo hold of a large airplane sitting on the surface of the water. When I am in the Hull/cargo hold I get this sinking bad feeling, that there is something dangerous in the depths of the water and it will reach up grab me and pull me under. (like a giant squid or the kraken) Review: I get the feeling that this could be news from the past of a ship wreak or an airplane, where someone has moved on with their life but will now have to deal with the emotions all over again, as this wreak is brought to the surface or these emotions are brought to the surface. This may pertain to me, such as someone from my past showing up unexpectedly. In both dreams I was surrounded by people I knew from my past as well as my family. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Finding Cheaper Medications | Project August | 2014-07-16 | marigold | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I am in a large room collecting and finding cheaper generic medication to substitute for more expensive ones. There are a few others advising me. They “stock pile” of different medications is in white square boxes in different areas of the room. Then I have the medications in the trunk of my car and driving them somewhere on a suburban country road but have to turn around in the driveway of a house on the left. There are trees and grass all around. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| This is where we hold them back! | Project August | 2014-07-16 | Save Life | |||||||||||||||||||||
| 07/16/14 This dream was about people every where, fighting their own battles. Through protests, civil war etc. I and a few others were growing more concerned anout this battle and the very few how were fighting back. I felt like I needed to join the resistance even if there were only a few of us, plus my gut feeling was very un-easy. Right then a lady approached me with an idea….she told me that she is in with the resistance, and has a plan that could save us all! She then told me her plan…”If the enimy breaks though the barrier, we then re-treat to the mountiounous boarders, hide and take them out there, Never letting them through. This is where we hold them back!” Then I woke up | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Desert Transfer | Project August | 2014-07-16 | sherriann | |||||||||||||||||||||
| July 13/14, 2014 I have a picture/vision of a desert camouflaged small (four wheeled) two man goods transport vehicle parked in the desert where it is partially protected by large rocks scattered about. There are two armed men wearing desert camo (cloth caps)standing nearby. They are waiting for a delivery. The following night I went back into the dream to try and see what was up. There was a third man on the scene guarding a pseudo entry and watching for the arrival of the second party. They did arrive and a transfer was made of 7 1/2 gunny sack sized sacks of a powdery material. 5 were sacks inside actual gunny sacks and two sacks were of an orange poly material. They were heavy enough to take two men to move them from truck to truck. The second party turned around and left and the first party tarped the truck bed and left in the opposite direction (the direction their vehicle was pointing). | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Light Box | Project August | 2014-07-16 | Tessie | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I was alone, driving to Chicago for some event I can no longer remember clearly, but I believe involved dining somewhere. I parked in a townhouse area south of downtown and walked to my event. I’m wearing casual, travel-in-the-wilderness clothes: a faded red canvass shirt over a white t-shirt, walking shoes. There’s a downtown emergency of some sort. It feels like riot or other violence. I’m walking quickly, but I’m lost. I can’t remember where my car is parked. There are crowds walking around me. I’m in my tough city girl walk. Eye contact confident, body posture strong. I’m walking over a ramp and there’s a long white multi-story building in the distance with a clock tower. Then I run into a man. He says I have the power for initiation. In his hand is a “light box”. It stores the spirit in egg-shaped stones. He said the body doesn’t store the spirit, the spirit is actually in this box that not everyone can see. I could, which is why he was talking to me. He looks at my spirit in the stones and a graph appears nearby that is solid red with just a small white space. He said this showed my power and my fear. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| C119 Crash | Project August | 2014-07-16 | CaptnAndy | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I don’t normally remember details about my dreams, but on July10th, I did. I was outside my Folsom, CA home when a C119 Flying Boxcar made a low pass over me. I am a military history buff and recognized it as a rarity these days. I don’t remember seeing one since I was a boy. I also noticed that it looked a little dirty , and that the USAF insignia was faded. It is not unusual to see historical aircraft in the area, and a B17 was making local flights a couple of weeks ago. It rapidly gained altitude as it past me and appeared to stall as it fell off on one wing. I had a clear look at its profile as it disappeared behind a hill to the northeast. There was an explosion with smoke and fire from behind the hill, and I awoke with a start. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| What to do when the mice escape | Project August | 2014-07-17 | marigold | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I have 5 tiny white mice in a small bowl like container—every once in a while I throw in some dry food. I have been doing this for awhile, I am walking around my childhood home with them and I notice they have gotten bigger and very active although still babies. They get out of the bowl and are running in circles and I am only able to get two back in the bowl, I will have to find the others later. My mother and sister notice this but say nothing. It surprises me that my mother lets this go without comment. I am in the basement looking for a better container and search everywhere without luck—the containers I find are either too short or have openings in them, like a laundry basket. Meanwhile the other mice have gotten out–one of them has found water and the whole time I am searching for a proper container I hear him drinking water. I had never thought to give them water and they must be really thirsty. The mouse stops drinking and I am able to catch him but he bites and claws my hand but not very hard. I decide to toss him into the garage—I open the door which is at the foot of the basement steps and gently toss him into the empty garage and close the door. I know it will be cold tonight and he will freeze but I have to get rid of these mice someway. It seems better than poison. A quick death might be more merciful but I don’t think I can do that—I imagine holding each mouse and chopping off their heads. I will have to search for the other mice and will set out food and water and find them when they come to eat. I am walking up the steps as I think these things and slightly amazed at myself for not being afraid to pick up the mice. I am hoping that freezing to death is an easy way to die. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Stem cells | Project August | 2014-07-17 | flygirl | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I had given birth to twin daughters. I had taken them to my mother’s house so she could baby sit for me for two days. When I got back to pick them up the house was a flurry of activity. My mother and others avoided talking to me and even making eye contact. After awhile of waiting, I got up and started looking around the house for my baby girls but couldn’t find them. Mom told me, after several hours, to go to this place that looked like a cafeteria. I sat down at a table with some other people and in walks this very old man, very frail and unsteady. As he reached my table he lost his balance and fell, hitting his head on the floor. The people I was with and I helped him up and he took a chair at our table. He then thanked me for my “gift”, and I later found out that my mother had taken the babies to this lab where their stem cells were being harvested from their blood. The old man and another woman friend of mom’s were being given those stem cells to rejuvenate them. I did get my babies back, sans a little of their blood. I woke up with a feeling of utter betrayal and rage that this was done without my knowledge or consent. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Modified Butter-Flavored Corn | Project August | 2014-07-17 | Elyse | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I dreamt that there had been some sort of crisis and my family, along with hundreds of others, were gathered in a very big building. In the very back of the building was a sort of cafeteria. The room was very long and filled with tables and chairs, but they were all full. I had been lucky enough to grab a chair for each of my children, but the room was so packed that there were many people sitting on the floor and lined up against the wall. I stood in line to get some food for me and my children. As I got closer to the front of the line, I could see that the things being served were hamburgers, grilled cheese sandwiches, or salad which was basically a big bowl of lettuce with no dressing or other vegetables. I was trying to decide out of these three options, which would be the best for my children. It seemed like we haven’t eaten in some time, and I was unsure when we would eat again so I needed whichever offered the most nutrition… the bowl of lettuce was out. There would be less protein in the grilled cheese, but more calcium than in the burger maybe… or so I was thinking in the dream. As I got closer to the front of the line, people started cutting in front of me. Most of these people were clearly very poor and homeless. Some of them even looked ill or diseased… and I just didn’t have the heart to ask them to get back behind me… but then I saw that the food was running out and I still had to feed my children. But the closer I got to the front of the line, more and more people would cut in front of me and push me back… then I started to get angry, because some of these people, as poor as they were, were not supposed to be there, and I’m not exactly sure how or why I thought that. I just felt like they had no right to be in that line and the fact that they WERE there was making it increasingly difficult for me to get food for my children! As I got pushed farther and farther back, I grew panicked as I watched tray after tray of food disappear just knowing that soon there would be no food left and I would have failed to feed my children. And just as I suspected, when I had FINALLY made my way to the front of the line, there was no food left. I was so angry and disappointed. It seemed like everyone in the room was now eating except for my kids who sat and watched everyone else eat with sad, wanting eyes. I wasn’t sure what I could do now… Just as I was about to leave, some curtains opened behind the cafeteria and there was a sort of stage. On the stage were a group of Asian people with crates of corn. They motioned for me to climb up the stage and be the first to try their corn. Most of the corn had already been shucked, but was raw and uncooked. It looked just like regular, yellow corn. They insisted that I try it while on stage and I did. It was cold and crunchy, just as you would expect raw corn to be… but it tasted as if someone had smeared it with butter. The kernels actually had butter flavor inside of them! What’s more is that the corn actually hade a very high nutritional value. They were somehow grown to produce more nutrients than regular corn. After I tried it, several people climbed on stage to grab some. Most of these people were being greedy as they had cut in front of me earlier to get food before me. I watched as they scarfed down the corn, ear after ear, and after they had eaten so much of it, they got very sick to the point I was afraid they might die… I didn’t feel sick… but then again, I hadn’t eaten very much of the corn, just a few bites. My dilemma now was whether or not I should bring the corn back to my kids… I thought that something would be better than nothing… but after thinking harder on it, I knew that those sick people had eaten the corn on a full stomach. Even if my kids just ate a little bit of corn like I did, they might get sick if that was all they had, so I decided that I would have to somehow find some other food for them. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| A LONG VINE AND PROPERTY LINES | Project August | 2014-07-18 | marigold | |||||||||||||||||||||
| I am in my backyard and there are neighbors around. I am weeding a corner near the house and notice there are a few evergreen trees that are not green, I ask my husband if they are dead or if they might turn green later—he doesn’t know. I am pulling weeds around one dead looking tree—there is a vine with a few green leaves on it—I pull for a long time and it keeps coming, an extremely long vine with a root that seems to go under the house, it finally comes to the end. Hopefully it is not poison ivy. My neighbor, a woman my age, who used to live in the house next door is out in her yard and asking about the property line, There are a row of bushes between our house and hers(in waking life the new neighbors have put up a privacy fence) and someone has told her the property line is in the middle of the bushes. We walk around looking at what has been planted between our houses and I realize that the bushes are actually on my property although I have never helped trim them. I point to the neighbor, a young man, on the other side and the bushes that separate his yard from his back yard neighbor ( an old woman) and say it must have gotten confused with those bushes because they are the ones that are on the actual property line. We figure out where the actual property line is and part of her yard is now my yard. I walk around and admire a large fountain that has plants and some other things that are on my side now and I will have to take care of them. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||