Date of dream: Saturday, January 25, 2003
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
This dream has been viewed 10095 times.
Two red haired girls didn't like each other previously, but now that they find themselves in some kind of situation that has
required them to figure something out together, they realize they can be friends [precognitive: today on the train there
were two red-haired girls sitting in front of me, talking across the aisle...and nothing stirred in my memory until I came
home and re-read the notepad that I write the outlines of my dreams down on the night before].
Back at the college I went to out in California, I wander into an adjacent field. But it's full of poison ivy, and the vines get
hooked onto my clothes (a very inaccurate dream...the plant out in California that causes an equivalent rash is poison
oak -- they don't have poison ivy).
I'm with some friends at the college gas station. I give one of them a couple of one-thousand dollar bills. But she
conveniently forgets to give me change, which is quite a bit. I get upset. She and the others turn into gas station
robbers, and now the dream has changed so that they're coming out of the cashier area with large guns pointing at me.
We're all distracted by someone playing a video using a large video projector. The image is showing on the side of one
of the school buildings. It's of a fire that happened there years ago, when I was a student there. It also shows students
rushing school equipment out of the burning building, and there's a much younger image of me helping them. I say, "Oh
yeah, I remember that!"
I woke up and realized this was a false memory dream. There never was such a fire in the four years I was a student
there.
Additional Comments:
I know we've been asking for a lot of features in dreamjournal -- and it's been really cool, because we've been getting
most of what we've asked for! -- so maybe this could be a feature that could be added farther down the road. But I know
a lot of people have "false memory" type dreams. That is, your memory tells you something is fact (about your *
PRESENT* waking life), and you don't question it; yet when you wake up you know it never happened.
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Date of dream: Thursday, January 23, 2003
Level of Lucidity:
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 10469 times.
My brother, who's been divorced for a little while now, has this girlfriend who was in my dream. She had taken numerous
old pictures from our family albums, unbeknownst to any of us, and scanned them into her computer so she could do all
kinds of Photoshop things to them. Well, what a shock...she added in strangers to well-known pictures that we thought
could never change. For example, the picture of our whole family out on the sidewalk by our house in 1964 now had a
couple of strange men standing along beside us in the picture as if they were part of the family.
Even worse, there were several pictures of my mom with a spaced-out look on her face, and strange, weird lights glowing
around her. The message this girlfriend of my brother's seemed to be sending us by altering the picture in this way was,
"Your mother is really a freak." Which actually is quite true...she's always had severe emotional problems. But this
seemed cruel and unjustified.
Another one of these weird pictures of my mom had glowing lines around her that looked like they were in some kind of
vibrational state. My first impression of the picture was that it was depicting her as being dead. I was disturbed by this,
and put it aside.
Another altered photo was the one of our family in 1956, before my sister was born. But my brother's girlfriend had
replaced all of us on the couch with the baby pictures of the kids of the next generation -- my nieces and nephews. This
one I was actually quite pleased with, and complimented her on it.
Suddenly, my ex-sister-in-law showed up (this same brother's ex-wife). I was shocked at how depressed she looked.
Alarmed by this, I gave her a hug. She barely hugged me in return.
The dream setting abruptly changed. I was back in Southern California, where I grew up in the 60's, at one of the
schools I'd attended. I walked on a road that ran alongside the school, on top of a hill. Suddenly there were soldiers
everywhere, and a camouflaged fighter plane from World War II came zooming down out of the sky in my direction. It
began firing at me.
I think I changed the dream at that point, because I didn't like how it was going. Next, I was water-skiing in an
unrealistically smooth river somewhere in the Swiss Alps. The cohesion of the dream was dropping rapidly at this point,
for there was no boat pulling me and I was moving at about 100 mph on the water. Furthermore, I vaguely realized that
the ski was missing. But I didn't care; the feeling of going so fast on such a perfectly flat body of water was exciting.
And the spray of water that went from side-to-side as I turned was magnificent, too.
However, the cohesion of the dream slowly began to return. Rocks appeared in the river that I had to maneuver around.
The water became a little choppy, and I had to slow down. The mental exertion I now had to go through confused me,
and the dream changed into the task at hand being climbing a rock trail on the top of a cliff in Hawaii.
The ocean was far below. The path became extremely narrow, and I should have been frightened at the danger I was in
of falling off. Instead I charged along merrily, enjoying myself thoroughly. But it wasn't long before I had to crawl along,
so narrow was the path. I came to where the path ended...right where the clear water from a stream bubbled over the
path into a waterfall that fell all the way to the ocean below.
"It's the sacred waterfall!" I exclaimed.
The cohesion of the dream was now very high. And the storyline had changed so that I had two sons that were about
three and five years old following me (I have no children in real life). I turned to them to tell them about the waterfall.
Right as I did so, the younger one -- who was behind -- turned to look down at the ocean below as he was still running
down the narrow path. This caused him to lose his balance and fall off. Without any hesitation, his older brother shrieked
and jumped after him. They both splashed down in the water far below...and I could see that a giant turtle was swimming
in the same general area.
With great trepidation, I realized they were both probably already dead...just from the great distance they had fallen to
the water below. But what choice did I have other than to jump in after them? I was their father, after all. Summoning
up all my courage, I took a flying leap after them. I tried to brace my arms and legs for the collision with the water far
below. I landed in it and, to my great surprise, was still alive.
I woke up.
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Date of dream: Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Level of Lucidity:
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 9655 times.
I was in a beautiful, modern mansion. The split levels were very open, with few walls. A dark-haired man who seemed
to be somewhere around 30 walked down a set of stairs.
For some reason, it was in my head that there was an important plan that required me to jump "into" his body and share
it with him. I was a ghost in the dream, but not lucid at this point. I leaped high into the air and then shot straight down
towards him. I slipped into his body with no resistance.
He stopped on the stairwell and expressed his displeasure at what I'd done.
From within his head, I sent this thought: "You don't like me being here -- perhaps you don't like me, either, but you're
stuck with me until we see this through."
He began dashing down the steps, and I was left behind (maybe I couldn't stay in him if he moved too fast?). So I did
the same thing again, flying up to the ceiling and descending quickly down to the spot I figured he'd be in by the time I
got back down. But I missed by a little bit, and he continued on his way.
At that moment, the dream switched so that I was in another room watching two of my co-workers, K. and someone else
I can't recall, playing tag. They were talking about how much they missed me since I'd died. I was still a ghost.
I went into another room. This room was empty, except for indentations in the light, pastel green walls where it looked
like people had put their hands while the plaster on them was still wet. Curious, I held my palm up against one surface
for a moment and pulled it away. My hand left an indentation, too, even though the wall was dry. Could the other marks
have been made by ghosts as well? [precognitive: after putting lip balm on this morning, I touched the window in my
living room to see how cold it was outside...the lip balm left on my fingers made a mark on the glass in the shape of my
finger, and it made me think of the impressions made in the wall in my dream].
Making a few more indentations with my hands and fingers brought me to a plain window that looked out on a night
scene. There seemed to be construction materials lying around in the shadows outside. Now quite aware that I wasn't a
ghost -- but, rather, dreaming -- I pressed my hand up against the glass. It immediately gave way as if it was made of
soft plastic. I let my body float up, and passed through the material into the night.
Suddenly it seemed like there was a cacophony of voices in my head. They seemed to be part of me, though, for I felt
like I was participating somehow in all the words being spoken. There seemed to be about six or seven of them; one had
a Cockney British accent, and the rest seemed to have various other accents I couldn't identify. And there was a very
little voice of an English girl in amongst all of this. I quickly identified the most closely with her and even seemed to
become this little child for a few moments.
But they were tossing me around in the sky like a rag doll! There'd be a second or two I'd hear one of the voices more
clearly than all the others, and in that time it would send me flying off at a high speed in a different direction than the one
before it had. I could plainly hear that some of these voices had a harsh, curmudgeonly tone to them...kind of like VERY
grumpy old men. And still yet others seemed to be more mischievous and silly sounding.
Strangely, I wasn't afraid. I was just fascinated by how the voices somehow felt they were coming from ME.
Finally, I began to feel like I wanted to hear a voice that would make me feel more confident. With that thought, I landed
standing up on a dock that wove its way through an old, rundown building near some water. A ragtime jazz band began
playing in the background, and suddenly I was an overweight black man dressed in an old-fashioned tux. I opened my
mouth and began singing in a loud, hearty voice --
"I - iiiiii - I ... can get into THAT! ... I - iiiiii - I ... can get into THAT!" [over and over] I suddenly was as happy as I could
be, and felt that the words simply meant that this had been a past life that I could quickly get right back into...if given the
opportunity.
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