There is a man that is dressed in jeans and a dark blue hoodie. He has deep brown skin and speaks a separate language that I don't understand. He is walking about a place that has green rolling hills and a lot of sky.
His wife is an older woman with long brown hair and she is crying and speaking in English that her husband keeps having affairs on her. She is very sad and desperate. I leave her outside of a straw hut, where there is smoke coming through the roof, as if a small cooking fire is on. She holds her head in her hands and cries.
I walk back over the hills and see the man again. He starts speaking another fast language and he is filled with anger. The more he talked, the angrier he would become.
I just stand there, in the hillside, as he starts to calm himself down and then he reaches out his arms and tries to grab me to make a sexual advancement towards me. I slap his hand away in offense. I am utterly appalled.
As soon as I swipe his hand away, he gets the point but then loses interest in communicating with me and we keep walking until we come among another small village in the mud and grass, with straw huts, with pointed tops and a huge fire pit in the center of the small village.
He speaks with a woman with long black hair and flirts with her. I am shocked when I look at him now, as his face is burned and inhuman looking. He has long pointed ears and slimy skin. Obviously no one else can notice this, or they would be shocked. He peers at me and his eyes are black. It's like a glitch and it goes back and forth between his two faces.
I am wandering through a library, which has fluorescent lighting and low carpeted blue and brown carpeting. The shelves are low and wide upon the ground and there is a very peaceful vibe in the air, as the people lie about silently on the floors and do not speak because they are so entranced into their reading.
I sit down at a shelf, which oddly reminds me of the bookshelves from the library of my elementary school and pull out occult books to look at. One that catches my eyes is a book on tarot cards. It is a large silver book with many pictures. The pages are white and glossy.
As I put the book back, I come to realize that there are boxes of tarot cards in the same shelf. So, I pull out a white and silver box and also a green and gold one. The green and gold one looks like there are Celtic writings upon it and the silver and white one looks like there is intergalactic and winter scenes on the art.
I put the boxes in my book bag, which is a cream bag with a Macy's logo of a red star on it and I go out the front door, which is right in front of the main librarians desk and she seems to be busy. She has brown hair and thick black glasses. I never check out the cards because I just leave with them as I am in a thoughtless trance of naivety.
I am in my bedroom in my house and I am going through a shelf of a similar size when I notice the cards. Obviously, a long period of time has passed because I start to get extreme anxiety seeing these items. My stomach turns as I wonder about how much money I might owe to the library or if I had accidently stole them!
It is very dark outside and there is a breeze from the chilly fall wind. I can see my dad hunched into my parked car from Deer Lodge, Montana. It is sitting outside of a green wooden fence with natural logs as a barrier. It is a car that he bought me and it had automotive problems.
He is wearing a red puffy coat just like the same color as the Buick. He is basically removing the entire inside of the vehicle and stripping it bare. I can see him but I am not there physically in the same place. I am watching in spirit from the passenger seat.
He has removed everything electronic and taken out all motorized parts. All that is left is the structure of the car, with velvet seats and a black carpeted floor. He is very into what he is doing. The plastic dashboard does not even contain a glove box or other secret compartment. It is all laid out in simplicity and truth.
It is a dark and stormy night and I am sitting on top of a dark brown wooden ship. There are many stars high above me that I am admiring. The weather is clear and a bit misty from rain but, it is a peaceful atmosphere which I am in.
I put my face high into the air and I can feel a soft breeze gently moving through my brown hair. It touches me lightly upon the cheek and swirls into the heavens in a spiral of stardust. I move my face up into the sky as the ocean waves shake and stir beneath me. The moisture touches my lips and I feel serene.
I open my eyes wide as I walk beneath a lantern, set upon a steep uprising, in the center of the ship. It rests upon a black material, which is also luminescent. It grows into a long wooden pole, with ropes swirling and spiraling up. There is a soft yellow glow upon me and I see a sparkle reflecting off the metal.
I realize that there is a slight weight upon my head and I reach up to touch a cold and metal head tiara, which lays out subtly in gold over my ears in small waves, into a crown on my face and a starred jewel upon my third eye. The jewel is a diamond and it feels like ice upon my forehead.
I look back over my right shoulder to peer at the moon. It seems full as it looms even closer than I thought was possible and an orange light melts from its center. I feel the star grow colder and I gather a dark blue caped robe dress from my ankles and lift it, to step down onto stairs and reach the lower floors.
There is a church and it has two rows. One seating area resides upstairs and one that is downstairs. The upstairs resembles a protruding circular shaped balcony, like that in a theatre. It is white marbled and holds red velvet chairs. There are skylights on the roof and windows in complimentary designs throughout.
The downstairs is where I am situated at the stage. The stage is a circular cream colored shape as well, extending from the front of the building. The organ sits outside of the stage but facing the audience. It is magnificent.
The organ is polished black that shines tremendously in the light from the glaring lamps overhead. They appear to be vintage, like that used on an old film set in the forties. It has an angular and simple design, holding up one large light in each corner.
I am sitting at the instrument, on a black polished piano bench, playing a song that is very similar to Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. I play the chords on the bottom and the top row is reserved for the high notes, solos and melody. It feels divine pouring from me. The organ is playing a piano sound.
It is a beautiful feeling and there is a lot of finely dressed people in the audience. They are in modern clothes of an elegant style featuring shiny metallic dresses, necklaces and velvet suited husbands. They wear large hats with feathers and other baubles to add style and personality. They smile to themselves in contentment.
It appears that I am at my daycare from my youth in Penryn, California. I am the age of a teenager though, not of a child. I have a giant quilted purse bag underneath my arm and I have a blue bow in my hair.
There is a man with light brown hair that is looking in the grass with me for the eggs. He wears blue jeans, tan boots and a grey sweatshirt. He says that he had already searched in the house, behind a couch and was sure we would find something here.
There is pine trees encircling the whole lawn and so the sunlight hardly creeps in. This leaves a damp feeling on my skin and it is hard to see. Although it is day time, it is almost as dark as the night.
Finally, I stumble upon a giant eggshell, behind a tree, in the dirt, which appears to be real. It is dark blue and large, a bit bigger than the size of my hands. I break it open and there are large wads of cash inside, which I never take out of the egg, I just hold it close to myself in gratitude.
I am in my backyard, under the pines and I notice that there is a huge pile of dried leaves and grasses. All of a sudden, the mound begins to shake and stir and it takes away my breath. I see moist soil crumbling and something digging its way out with tiny brown hands.
A tiny brown monkey makes his way from the debris. He is small, about the size of a Chihuahua dog. He is blind in the left eye because it has a white film over it, so that he cannot see properly. I become afraid and open the glass doors from outside and close them on the inside, to peer at this creature safely.
He seems disappointed, as a familiar look of human sadness overwhelms his face and overcomes him. I am not sure how I know but I think his energy is masculine. I feel my heart sinking in a compassionate feeling and so I make my way back outside to greet him.
He is very nice and cuddles me in a hug. He points to his mound and the container of water nearby and also the trees and greenery in the backyard. He seems to be very excited at this point! I have an overwhelming urge to bring him inside but Paul stops me by the doors.
He tells me he thinks that he knows the people that left the monkey and they are rich and they told his department at Fish and Wildlife that he bites. He bit someone three times, he retells me. So, then I put the monkey back down to go back and follow his advice. I still peer at the monkey and let it live there anyway.
There is a small house with white carpet, which is creamy and dusty from age. The rooms are small and comfy. There is a tan leather couch in the living room, which Paul is sitting on with another man, who has black hair, light skin and wears transparent black glasses. We are all in all black clothing.
The man has a backpack on and Paul and he have boxes of stuff, which they are going through and pulling all over the room. There are files, sweaters and random electronic devices, which appear to be like iPods and musical players of this time.
I go into the hallway to reach up into the attic. The windows have dirty coffee colored blinds and there are no sounds. I pull down the ladder and go to the destination. I feel an overwhelming desire to look through everything for clues.
I walk up the steps and there is a small room with mirrors, music and newspapers. After reading a few headlines, it is obvious that there was some kind of war here. To me, the language used is English. It is obvious that this is another place that is not America that I know.
I pick up a hand held mirror, which surpasses the era of the other objects by many years. It begins to glitch in my hand and when I turn it around, I notice that the black backside has solar power and a clear protective case. There are markings in silver of another language, weird symbols that I cannot translate and when the light hits them just right, they are luminescent and change not only color but shape as well.
I must have knocked something to the right position because suddenly the mirror turns on and displays a Germanic looking language. There are videos saved on what looks like a desktop computer with a black background of a happy family with fair hair and light eyes. There is a mother and father and two sons. They wear light blue clothing that appears to be many years old, perhaps the eighties. They wear largely collared shirts and the woman has a light pink retro dress on like they did in the fifties but it is modernized with dots and emerald jewelry.
That's when I begin to notice that there is also toys spread out all over the attic. There is a white rocking horse, radio cars and a battery powered airplane. Finally, the sun starts to set and I can see this through the window, which peaks out perfectly from the pointed roof. The landscape is an empty hillside with dried up grass and palm trees.
I collect all the important looking stuff, such as musical devices and also the mirror. I put everything into a black backpack that I have, which has red and orange stripes on both sides. From here, I go back down from the attic to show the other people what I have and to see what they have found. It seems like there is no one around for a long and wide area of time. It is eerie and mysterious.
My soul is soaring through blue skies and it is a joyful feeling. As I am going, I notice all the clouds in the air, there is some that are large, some that are small and some that sparkle. They are varying shades of white, gray and black shadow and ice.
When I see a cloud sparkle, I do my best to stop to watch it, before it floats away. This is because when the sunlight hits it, a rainbow comes out of it. It is exciting to watch and it makes me passionate about the beauty!
Then, I fly back down to Earth and I am in a church singing. I go from singing at the front, to the very back of the room. This place is just past the wooden church pews, on a dark forest green carpet and into a white stone walled kitchen, where I can barely see the words to the song of Jesus.
Someone starts speaking from behind me and says that I shouldn’t sing so proud because I am only a background singer. It stuns me for a few minutes, as I contemplate what is being said! I keep hearing the voice over and over in my head saying that I am just a background singer.
Then, I notice a lady with short cut hair, like a boys and it is rainbow colors. She smiles at me and so I follow her into a bedroom. She has on black glasses and she is sitting on a twin bed with black covers and white sheets. She is looking through a photo book and she motions for me to come discover what she is looking at.
The pictures in her hands are Polaroid’s and she takes more from a shoe box, as she hands them to me in piles of threes, fours and fives. The pictures are of clouds and rainbows. I look across from where I am sitting and see many more shoeboxes in an open closet, which has sliding mirror doors.
I am looking over a notebook with plain white papers and strange markings. The markings are squiggles and dots. They are made with very black ink, like that of a calligraphy pen. They swirl and rise up, most rooting from the bottom up, it seems.
Each page has one symbol on it, a different letter of the alphabet. The designs are simple with the vowels including a squiggle and dot and non-vowels containing simpler lines. The marking is made large and centered in the page.
A lot of the squiggles are continuous and do not separate. The book is large and so there must be a lot more than 26 letters, like the English alphabet. It gives me hope that one day I can reveal these symbols to the rest of the world.
I am walking up gray stone steps on a long winding staircase. The building is tall at the top, showcasing an empty and abandoned place. The stairs are narrow and the atmosphere is cold from the stone. I am wearing a white Greek style dress with a one shoulder wrap. My hair is in a braid and curls pop out as I step higher.
I reach the top of the stairs, which I am climbing and I realize that there is crows standing in a small cut out window, which is narrow and rectangular in shape. They seem to be trapped. They are pacing around each other with concern and confusion. There is three of them and they are hesitant to trust me as I reach out my hand to move away a couple bricks, which are obscuring their exit. They seem very nervous.
As I move the obstacle, one of them immediately flies through and then one waits until the other has left and goes as well. The third crow, before it takes off to leave, turns round and looks at me in gratitude and then turns back around again to fly. Then I notice there are three black feathers in the window and I collect them and put them into my hair, at the back of my head.
It is so dark everywhere and I'm in spirit form, watching over this world. It's hard to see, almost blinding but, I can hear a female's voice on a phone telling me that Ashton, my son, was shot. I see him in the dark and he is in a old school sky blue mustang, passenger seat and has blood running from his head and slouched over. He is wearing jeans and a black hoodie.
I'm really crying and emotional and there is a barrier between me and this scene as if I can see it but, not interact. I imagine this is like how a ghost would see. Then, the phone rings again and this time it is a man's voice. My spirit soars very high up and everything begins spinning as I fly to another place.
I'm emotional and urgent to talk with my father because the man in the phone is saying that something has happened to him and he cannot hear or speak any longer. I see him in his kitchen and he is wearing some kind of head brace at the table. The look in his eyes is blank as if he is not the same person. It is hard to accept but, I can't seem to span the distance between the voices to be there with them.
There is a mansion that has a large deck on the outside, made of pine, that goes around the whole perimeter of the backyard. I am walking across this to enter through the back door. The back door is open and the screen is covering the entrance. I go through it to a largely spacious and simply designed home.
The walls are a dark blue in the first room and the floors are a deep wooden brown, almost like chocolate. This appears to be a kitchen and there is a dining room in the next room. The dining room is painted red and there is a giant wooden table that is grand and dark like the floors. It is polished and finished with curvatures and a shiny coat, which reflects in lighting.
I walk all the way through these rooms and get to a space that has a secret door in the ceiling. The room opens up, much like an attic and a ghost comes through the pull down stairs. The ghost is very tall, about seven feet. The ghost has dark skin and hair and looks Hispanic. He is wearing a powder blue, cream and baby pink plaid flannel shirt. He also wears blue jeans. He comes out of the room and follows me into a bedroom with powder blue walls and lights strung up in the four corners. The lights glow a bright yellow color.
He tries to get into the big king size bed with fluffy black blankets with me and I freak out and run out of the house and start screaming for someone to call the police. Then I realize that it's a ghost and so the police aren't coming.
There is a house with dark wooden floors and royal blue walls and a similar furry rug on the floor, in front of a white couch. It is dimly lit and a bay window in the main room reveals that the sun is setting. I am here, sitting upon this couch and holding my yellow soprano ukulele. In waking life, I have only just recently begun to practice with it. In my dream however, I am a skilled master.
I am wearing a white t-shirt and black yoga pants and there are other people in casual clothes, who walk by me as I am practicing. They are strange faces and persons that I do not know. They walk by and stare at me in fascination as I am playing this instrument like a master. It's like I can play any note there ever was and it's incredible.
I am making the most beautiful music and doing it with such grace that it's mesmerizing. At one point, I even turn it sideways and upside down and the melody never stalls. This fills me with such beauty and joy that it is carried over into the living spirit and inspired me not to quit playing music. It is a motivational and feels me with comfort and hopefulness.
I am sitting in a wooden chair in someone's kitchen. The kitchen has dark blue tile floors and a white countertop table, which I am sitting at. Behind me is a white refrigerator.
When I go to check the fridge for a drink, I notice someone sitting in front of it. He says that he is in the band Aerosmith, he is the musician Steven Tyler and I get really excited.
I hand him my business card and it has some kind of handwriting in red pen, on the back. He is very polite and accepts it, although I think he will not call.
I talk to him for a long time and then he leaves the house to go. I get really happy and I collect a black purse and blue coat and depart too.
There is a high mountain, which is standing tall in the night sky. It is a reddish brown one, with a flat top, signaling to me that I am in a desert. I walk to the top of this place and look around. There is stars glowing softly everywhere and a woman awaits me.
She has red hair and is very beautiful. The hair is long and her eyes are a brown color. She tells me that she is the guide. She waves her hands towards the air and a Ferris wheel type of ride pops down from the sky.
There are little colorful capsules, cycling like this carnival ride. There are riders in each vessel, who are traveling in a round pattern, yet it is not planted into one spot.
As I get on the ride, I realize that the ride is spinning and going across the whole sky. Lights and colors are painted like the aurora borealis, through the darkness. My capsule is very circular and bubbly looking. To return, one must simply will it.
I am outside in a parking lot, which is full with cars. The asphalt is simmering and I am sitting inside of Paul's Kia. The window is rolled down and I am wearing a blue short sleeve shirt. As I am sitting in the car, I am reading a digital thermometer. It says that it is eighty degrees, yet for some reason the sun feels so much hotter than that.
I become anxious, as I start to think about the summer coming up, because the season has not yet changed. I begin to worry about the sun becoming way too hot in the upcoming days.
I see a black cat that is very healthy and its tail is in the air, moving playfully. It is up close to me and looking into my soul. It seems very interested in me.
Yet, as I get closer to the animal, I realize that it is more incredible than it seems. The cat's eyes keep changing colors, very slowly, all of a rainbow. It is very serene and beautiful.
There is a house with very tall walls and a high ceiling. Inside the space, it is varying shades of lighting. In the corners, it is dark. In the middle places, there is brightness.
There is a Native American woman at a kitchen table. The table and wood cabinets of the home are all made of lightened pine wood. She sits in the center with tarot cards, gemstones and seashells. She has long silky black hair. It is straight and reaches to her waist. She is shuffling a prism fortune teller deck, within her coffee colored hands. She has black beautiful eyes.
I sit down at the table, across from her and she begins to lay down the cards. All I see is death and I ask her to please stop. She obliges and calmly pushes a small silver meteor stone and blue sapphire crystal skull, the size of my palm, with a elongated jaw, which protrudes in an unnatural manner, from the bottom.
She puts the cards down and speaks; "The curse is lifted then..." She motions to take, as she causes me to collect the items into my hands and go.
I am carrying around a clear and long plastic bag. I am in mud boots and I have on blue jeans and a white t-shirt. The sun is setting very slowly, towards the right of me, where there are muddy hills and black pine trees. Also, there is a red river, running through the sky.
Inside of the bag, there is a huge coffee colored slug. He is a big size for the type. I hold him gently, as if he belongs to me. I keep calling him Charles. I touch him with my hands and he feels like cold and damp leather.
We walk around the mud together and past a natural pool of water, where there are toads singing their songs. The water is the same deep blue as the night. It is peaceful. It is serene.
When it is time to go, I call for Charles the slug and he slowly slides into the plastic bag, which I am holding preciously, in my hands. It is like he understands me.
I can feel like I have a lot of love for this creature. There is a very strong energetic connection and the slug seems to obey all of my protective and caring commands. He has a beautiful soul.
I am sleeping in the bedroom of a two story house. It appears to be a King size bed with black blankets and white pillows. I have my hair up in a ponytail, snuggled into the comforter.
As I am dreaming, I feel pieces of wet gunk, dropping onto my face. I wake up and feel the slimy plaster. I look close at the white mixture, which is all over the place. It is coming from above me still, as I wake.
I realize that it is the ceiling, which is melting. I can see large holes, growing bigger by the moment, dissolving and falling down slowly.
There is water that is dripping down too. It is because the room above me is a bathroom. I can see the shower and it has a blue transparent curtain around it. The tiles are very white and fresh on the surface of the walls.
There are men that come over with ladders and they climb up and analyze the situation. They seem very perplexed and amazed. They try to fix everything. They have tools in their hands, like paint brushes and trowels.
I don't seem that upset, so I go to bed every night and every day, they come back to work on it, until it's done. I am very calm, peaceful and serene, throughout the process.
I am outside, riding my purple bike on an asphalt road, in the sunlight. There is a college with a patch of grass by the parking lot. As I am riding near, a black car with blacked out windows, pulls up.
The window rolls down and it is Donald Trump, as the president. He is wearing a gray suit and red tie. He has a white collared shirt, popping above his jacket. The expression on his face is that of extreme exhaustion.
He says hello and he is waiting for someone. So, I start telling him stories of the dreams that I had of him, recently. I told him I dreamed he was picking yellow daffodils, which symbolizes purity. I also dream of him in sunlight doing this, which symbolizes greatness and celestial blessings. I can feel a great understanding coming from him. His energy is angelic.
After I told him these things, he gets out of the car and his suit changes to a black color. He asks me more about my life and I told him pieces about my childhood; like being in foster care, feeling abandoned, being in the hospital and happy times too, like ghost hunting and dreaming.
I can feel how he is energized by the spirit of dreams and he gets back in his car, as a man in a blue suit appears.The driver follows him alongside me, as I bike. I am going so fast, I race far ahead of his car until finally, the driver speeds up so fast, the car shoots away at incredible speeds.
I am in many places at once. The time may be unstable because I am shown these different circumstances, as if I am many different parts of myself, existing separately as fragments of memories.
There is a house, which appears to belong to my mother's family, as I can read imprints in the wood and walls and know them. I am in an upstairs room, with only a blue blanketed, iron frame day bed, white dresser and a bronze, glass top, lamp. It is the attic because the ceiling is slanted in.
In the center front of the room is a window that is a circular octagon shape. I find myself drawn to it and I slowly walk into the energy field.
The outside is a gigantic mass of grass. There is sunlight and a small breeze. The breeze picks up a large balloon in the wind. It is an asian style dragon, which is floating up, gently in the air.
I giggle as I realize that I am actually on top of the dragon balloon, riding inside of a basket. However, the body of the beast lay beneath my feet. My hair is black, as I appear to be a child, riding nobly.
I hear a knocking next, outside of my door, which causes me to turn and notice. It is a wooden door, painted the colors of the balloon, yet darker; royal blue, orange, yellow, white and red, all slashed about in diagonal designs.
I do not answer but, I hear myself speaking. I am on the other side, trying to give a message. I listen to shoes on the floor, pacing loudly. The noise is mumbled into soft words, without a translation. I have too much fear and cannot unlock the portal, to let myself in, to clear this up.
I stay in this room, walking about and touching the walls, trying to understand what is happening. I can't think straight so, I go back to the window again.
The sun is set and there is a round and soft full moon staring back at me. I see myself again, climbing a brown ladder to the lunar surface. I am climbing up, very carefully. I am in an adult stage now, with long blonde hair, catching fire in the wind and dancing about the breeze.
As the moon creeps in, upon my face, there is me again, knocking. The words come out loud and strong but, it is another language, which sounds like slow rain, dripping on metal. It is drawn out and sharp, yet serene too.
The energy saturates in the room and then it becomes clear. The woman's speech comes to me, as a soft voice creeps into my ears, which speaks and the truth emerges; "The moon does not lie, where it appears..."
There is a park and it has grass all over the ground. There is a silver metal spinning device, which you stand on, holding a bar and someone spins you, for fun. I set about 100 black puppies on the thing and slowly spin them. The puppies seem very young and do not care much for this activity, as several of them jump off.
I continue to play with the puppies at the park. I feed some of them peanut butter, which I also hook wires up to and make clocks from. It is very fun and all the puppies behave and they are gentle and happy.
I am living in a mobile home. The mobile home is on top of a dirt hole, with a wooden bridge foundation. The sides are a silver colored metal and the paint is a light blue. I am in the mobile home and it is very narrow and small. It is filled up with boxes of random things. There is food in some and non-food in others.
I keep hearing the door banging from the kitchen. There are about three different doors in this place. I go to the door and I hold up against it, pushing furniture into place. There is zombies trying to get inside of the mobile home and they are flailing their arms in the cracks of the doors. There are men and women, trying to get inside to take my life force from me.
Every sunrise and sunset, I repeat this process, in different parts of the home. The zombies never get in but, they always pound and bang on the doors, as they try to enter. It becomes routine and it doesn’t really even concern me after a while of this.