Traveling

3

To dream of clouds represents situations in your life which overshadow everything else. Noticeable or powerful distractions, delays, or disappointments. The number 3 in a dream may reflect chaos. There may be unpredictability in your life.-dreambible.com

Tuesday, April 28, 2015;Unconscious dreaming
I arrived at work sometime later in the day than my usual time. The sun shone out of a cloudless blue sky as I drove around the parking area several times but could not find an empty space. I called my boss to inform him of the problem I had while I continued to hunt for a spot. He told me I could drive over to one of our new offices at the south end of the yard and park in the driveway there. He stated that no one would be there today, and I did not have to worry about being towed.

I drove over to the building and found a small driveway in front and parked. I left my backpack in the trunk; it had been after lunch, and I would be coming back and leaving in just over three hours. Walking from the car to the office to check in took about five minutes. Within four minutes of my walk, something caught my eye to the northeast. I spotted a large cumulus cloud rising quickly in the distance. I could only see the top as one of the buildings was in the way; because of the speed at which it rose, my curiosity made me jog to get around the building.

In the clearing, I saw it was a mushroom cloud many miles away. What came to mind was a nuclear explosion, but I had not seen a flash or heard anything; however, the entire cloud was pure white. As I stood watching the cloud, people came to a stop and stared as well. Moments later, another white mushroom cloud rose a little farther north than the first one. Again, there had not been any flash or sound wave coming from either cloud, but I did begin to worry.

These clouds were not normal, and an eerie feeling began to overwhelm me. I turned and rushed back to my car. While I ran through the yard others began to panic also, even more when they saw me in a heated run. I made it to the building and turning the corner; I saw my car was gone. I rushed over to a guard shack a few yards down and asked if they had seen it. The guard informed me he had it towed because I had not had the decal for that area. I explained I had been given permission from my boss; he knew nothing about it.

I had to have my car, so there was no need to argue. I asked about its location and found to my relief, it did not go to a towing yard but a fenced in lot at the north end of the shipyard. Before I left, the guard informed me I would not be able to retrieve the car, all gates were in lock down. I could leave the yard but without the car. I left and rushed to the north end. I could do without the car if I had to, but I needed my backpack in order to make it home.

Along the way, I glanced over to where the last cloud had erupted to see yet another one blossoming up north of the second and just as white as the others. Guards were out in the streets directing workers away from the piers and to the mustering [emergency] areas. As I passed one of the guards, he shouted that I could go no farther in the yard and had to either report to my area or exit the facilities. I turned toward one of the buildings as if I were going inside. Instead, I ran around the back side and continued to the towing area; the three clouds continuing their rise into the heavens. Making it to the fence, I located the entrance. The gate had been chained locked, but I knew I could slip through.

Close by, another guard was directing people from the work areas; I ran over to him and explained I needed my car. He said that was impossible today especially with the emergency. I then asked if I could go inside to retrieve some things out of the trunk, I was denied. He ordered me to follow the crowd to our stations; I turned and rushed away. I went back to the chain locked fence, looking behind me to see the guard watching. I had no choice; I needed my supplies. I dashed under the chain and inside the lot, hearing the guard shout out after me. Once in, I ducked down hurrying between the cars hoping to stay out of sight and make it to the car before caught.

Every so often, I would have to stand and take a quick look for the car. I spotted the hoods of several white cars in different areas and headed to the closest one. I could hear the guard shouting for backup. I made it to the first white car— it was not mine. I slipped my head up again and found the next nearest one; that too was not mine. Third time was a charm and, staying on my knees, I popped the trunk. Reaching in, I pulled out my bag and tossed it on my back. I gathered some other things I may need and closed the trunk.

I could not risk being caught. I did not believe he would arrest me, but my bag may be confiscated. I made my way back toward the gate noticing a guard posted there, my only exit. I moved back among the cars and began making my way along the fence line in hopes of finding a way over or under. Somewhere along my search, I awoke.

The Last Laugh

It’s been a long couple of weeks. Due to several crane operators being out, several of us have had to take up the slack. Oh, and having some “$#@%” driver broadside my car and total it, I haven’t had a chance to work on anything new, so I’ve dipped into the dream journal archive.

Wednesday, June 6, 2011

In the dream, it was Friday, and I had gone to a company that I had worked for in the early 2000s: a fabrication shop and crane rental. With me was a friend, and we had heard the company was hiring. We had met the superintendent whom I had worked under and had not cared much for. My friend said we were applying for work, the superintendent said, “Sure, come back Monday morning to go to work.”

That following Monday the friend and I showed up. A co-worker greeted us and welcomed me back. He said that he and a crew were getting equipment together to head out to NASA on a job. I helped load up some trucks and there was a 1,000-gallon diesel tank on a trailer that had to be pulled along We did not have any trucks left in the yard, so I hooked the trailer up to my truck and pulled it in line behind the other equipment.

I began to wonder if I would be compensated in fuel for the use of my truck. I unhooked the trailer and pulled back into the parking lot. I walked into the shop in search of the superintendent to ask if they wanted me to use my truck. I approached the superintendent who saw me coming and placed his hands on his hips. When I stepped up to him, he spoke, “What are doing here?” he laughed sarcastically, “You think you work here or something?”

I thought about it and it dawned on me, when he had said to come back Monday, it may not have been directed at me but just my friend. It then became clear that I had forgotten I was working for my current company and did not need or want the job with this man but did want to brag about my current company.

“No,” I replied laughing back at him, “I was just dropping off my friend and was leaving when I remembered to tell him something.” I turned and walked out. As I passed the front of the office, I saw that the entire front was all glass. Inside was a small department where the owner of the company was selling boat motors. I thought they must not be doing so great if they had to sell boat motors to help their profits.

Reality Checked

Reality check; a method of deducing whether one is in a dream or in real life. It usually involves an observation of some sort of sensory observation, usually visual. Most induced lucid dreams involve a reality check of some sort. A dream sign is a form of reality check that is more or less unique to the specific dreamer.- wikia.com

I have a few reality checks I do daily in order to get in the habit of running through them in my dreams. If the reality check fails, then I’m dreaming. My first is looking for words when I’m reading or on a bill board somewhere; I find this one works best. I glance at the words and the order they’re in and look away. I repeat them to myself and then turn back and re-read them; if they are in the same order than I’m awake, anything different tells me I’m dreaming.

Another is pictures and/or nature. I pick out several small details, turn away, think about the details and look back. If there are any changes, I’m dreaming, but not all dreams give me the benefits of these checks so I have yet another. This involves recall; if there is nothing to look at and take in the details, I think back from that moment I’m in and track my time-line until the moment, I woke that morning; so far, this has yet to fail me, until now.

I also used pain to see if I was dreamimg, for example, pressing the points of my keys into my skin somewhere. However, I gave this up  some twenty years ago when my dreams and out-of-body experiences became advanced enough to endure high levels of discomfort. Now I believe that I have reached another advancement in my dream worlds that go beyond the reality checks giving me something between dreams and out-of-body experiences.

Tuesday, February 16, 2015
I’ve come up with a new reality check idea. Whatever I have on me throughout the day usually goes with me into my dream states. I had thought about looking at the screen or pictures on the phone, but that would take too much time; pulling out the phone, putting in the password, and bringing up the screen or pictures. Besides, I’m always lying the phone down somewhere and in the dream world don’t recall the last time I noticed it with me.

I needed something that would be kept on me at all times and could be checked faster and easier—hence, a pocket watch. Other than my wedding ring, I don’t wear jewelry and hate anything strapped to my wrist. A pocket watch would be on me all during my waking hours; it’s also a quick and excellent source for reality checks. So today I went out and bought one. My new habit will be to check the time throughout the day, glancing at the time and second hand location, look away count to five and look back. Time should be the same but for five seconds later, but only if I’m in this reality.

I have mentioned before that my recall of the dream’s dialog is usually 90-95% accurate. Here, in this dream, I would place the dialog accuracy at 99% or higher.

Monday, January 19, 2015; Because of the nature of this dream, and a strong belief in the Multiverse theory, I am placing this under my out-of-body experiences.
I woke up in a strange bed, looking around and taking in my surroundings; I was in my parents’ guest room. There was a commotion in the living room, and I got up and dressed. Still very groggy, I left the bedroom to see what was going on. My wife was playing with two of my sister’s grandchildren, who were running around and screaming.

“You look tired,” my wife said.

“I could have slept longer if it wasn’t for the ruckus in here,” I told her.

“You stayed up much longer than usual. Go lie back down, and I will take the girls outside.”

“That sounds really good,” I said.

I turned and went back in the guest room, and not bothering to undress, I flopped down onto the bed. Just as I was dozing off, my father entered the room.

“You going to sleep all day?” he asked, which was more of a statement than a question. “I thought we were going to check out that new boat of yours.”

This made me perk up a bit, and I cracked opened my eyes. “I bought a boat?”

“Of course, that’s why you came down to Florida, to pick it up.”

“Why would I buy a boat?”

“You said you couldn’t pass up the deal on it,” he stated.

I thought back and recalled I had bought one, the marina selling the boat wasn’t too far from where my parents lived. My father slapped my leg. “Come on, you didn’t come all the way down here to sleep.”

I eased up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Stretching my body as I stood. I pulled my car keys off the dresser and proceeded out of the bedroom, and to the backyard where my wife and mother were. I told them that my father and I were heading to the marina and asked if they wanted to go. Both ladies declined, so my father and I left. The trip was about half an hour; I drove while my father navigated.

Just as we got in sight of the marina, traffic began to slow. I saw that there was an event going on with booths and water shows; this was where everyone was heading. After a few minutes, we made it into the parking lot. Finding a spot was going to be impossible I thought, but while passing through the front row a car was leaving. The driver backed out, and I pulled in. Prime parking gave me a view of the event and the water front.

“Front row parking, it’s going to be a good day today,” I informed my father. We got out of the car and looked around. I am not sure what was being celebrated, but the crowd was thick. This was the type of thing I always avoided, but not today.

“I’ve been here a couple of times,” my father said, “your boat should be over at that dock.” He pointed to our left toward the water, directly through the thickest part of the crowd.

The parking area we were in was on a hillside about twenty feet or higher from the water. The area directly to our left was another part of the parking lot but had been barricaded off for tents, kiosks and small activities for families. In front of us, a sidewalk separated the lot from a grassy area where a couple of yards down it split into two. The one walkway running down was ten feet wide and led to the waterside of piers, docks and small raised observation platforms. Further, down the boats were docked under a canopy that ran perhaps one hundred feet.

My father and I proceeded down the crowded walkway. A metal handrail painted bright yellow was supposed to direct traffic in opposite directions but today people seemed to be ignoring it. My father and I stayed against the handrail. As we had started down the grade, a man walking on the other side stumbled. Just as he had regained his footing, he said aloud, “I almost fell.” At that time, he stumbled again and did fall but in a fashion, which did not injure him. He seemed to take it in stride and laughed at himself. I laughed along with him and then stumbled.

As I caught myself at the last moment, I too said loudly, “I almost fell,” then bumped into a woman who was standing still looking up at the sky. I tumbled to the ground but softly on my hands and knees. My father laughed as did some others around us.

“That’s what you get for laughing at the other man,” my father said as he helped me back up. I glanced at the woman, not sure of who owed who an apology. She was still looking up at the sky in the direction behind me. I then noticed others looking also and more coming to a stop and staring. I turn and looked.

Because we were still on the hill part of the marina, I could see quite a bit of the town stretching out from us, but the sky caught my attention. Within half a mile of us and floating some 50 or more feet off the ground, were three silvery boxes about fifteen feet or more in diameter. I knew right away they could not be balloons due to the sharp right angles of their corners, so I guessed they must have been kites. However, I saw no ropes or guide lines holding them in place. Upon further inspection, I could make out things that may have been antennas.

“What do you think they are?” my father asked.

“I’m not sure. Something to do with the celebration I would guess.”

No sooner had I finished the statement when a loud boom filled the air. Before anyone could react or look for the source, the box on the left exploded in an ear-piercing blast. Pieces of the box showered the town below, some even making it to the marina. The crowd went silent and froze by the sight. Just as quickly as the explosion was over another boom sounded, this time I could see a military tank rolling down the street. The tank’s gun was pointed up, and another box exploded. From the left, a military jet streaked from the sky and was firing into the remaining box, but some unknown force caused the jet to come apart like the boxes but without the noise.

“Oh my god!” a male voice shouted, “We’re at war!”

“It’s terrorists!” a woman screamed.

More blasts could be heard from somewhere, and people began to rush around. For the most part, the majority of the crowd was running to the parking lot. My father and I had not moved and hung onto the rail to keep from being knocked over. I was still staring at the sky and picked out an elongated object in the distance. It looked to be a cylinder with skids on the bottom and a large disk at the front top. It seemed to be just leaving the side of one of the boxes and headed slowly across the sky when it was intercepted by a fighter jet. I could see the jet firing on the object, but once it got close, the jet came silently apart, its pieces tumbling to the ground.

“Those aren’t terrorists,” I yelled to my father, “that’s some technology we don’t even have.”

“You think it’s Russian or some other country?” my father asked.

“No, it’s alien,” I answered. Then it got me thinking. “Wait a minute,” I said, “I’m in a dream; this is all a dream.” I shouted.

“Son, this is not a dream, and I don’t believe in aliens.” my father countered.

“It’s a dream. I do believe in aliens, but I don’t believe this is an invasion.”

I looked around me for something to do my reality check on, but there was already so much going on that each second brought change around me. I went to my other strategy of reality checking. This involves retracing my time backward to when I awoke this morning. In this, if I can find any memory lapse, then I know it’s a dream.
I retraced back and forth quickly and recalled everything; I was awake. My anxiety level shot through the roof until my legs began to buckle.

“Oh my God, this is real! It’s all real,” I shouted to my father. “Oh God, oh God…” I repeated over knowing I was in shock. Something caught my eyes from the right, over the parking lot came a ship in a slow dive ascending toward us, along its port side followed an F-22 Air force Raptor. The ship was the same design as the one I had seen in the distance.

The main body of the ship looked to be made up of three interlocked cylinders, one on top and two on bottom, more than one hundred feet in length; each cylinder’s diameter was about ten feet. On top of the forward main body was a disk, five feet thick and forty feet wide. The disk sat back where a quarter of it hung over the front. The three cylinders tapered down and outward about five feet until it formed a small square hole less than a foot wide. Along the bottom of the ship, four skids protruded, two in front, two in back.

My attention fell back to the Raptor which stayed next to the port side of the ship. Both were moving too slow to stay up, and I quickly recalled thinking the alien ship must have the Raptor under some type of tractor beam. The ship along with the Raptor made a hard turn toward us, still in a dive. My thought was it had malfunctioned and would be crashing on top of us. Within a couple of hundred yards, small black boxes flew out of the front of the square hole from the ship. I say flew because they were fast but not enough to blur their view, also the only noise coming from them was the air they moved through. The small boxes quickly dropped down at a steep angle, their path right in line where my father and I were standing.

The handrail had us blocked, and I yelled at my father to lean in as much as possible. The blocks fell within inches or closer because I felt two of them brush my back. I heard them impact on the ground and waited for an explosion, there wasn’t any. I turned and looked down. The blocks penetrated the ground at only a couple of inches. A row of the blocks ran for several yards, and I looked back up at the ship. With the Raptor in tow, both turned right and upwards. I looked back to the blocks. Each one was around four inches wide and had landed at the same depth maybe two inches, and all spaced about eight inches apart. They all had a deep black color, but the interesting thing was how they had impacted.

Their path had run across the grassy area and the concrete walkway as if they had been planted there. There were no impact craters around them in the grass and in the walkway no signs of cracks. If anyone stumbled upon them, they would have thought the concrete had been poured around them. Fear and anxiety overwhelmed me to the point that I could not move. My left arm was grabbed and shook hard; I looked to see my fathers face pale but calm.

“We have to get out of here!” he yelled at me. I released my grip on the handrail as he pulled on me in the direction of the parking lot. I looked to the parking lot at the multitude of people in their cars fighting to flee. My feet did not want to move, and I looked down at them, willing them in my mind to obey. I could see the blocks running alongside of us, and something held my feet in place; it was a thought.

“Wait!” I shouted back to my father. “Don’t step on the blocks.”

“Why?” he asked.

“They’re not exploding and seem to be in some kind of pattern. They must be for some other purpose— we need to avoid them,” I said calmly.

Although my anxiety was spiking, I began to come to terms as to what was going on around me. Even if I had not been prepping for an alien invasion, it was still a “SHTF” scenario. I had to take control of the situation my father and I were in.

“We can’t take the car,” I told him. I pointed to the congested parking lot. “Nothing’s moving and all the roads are going to be just like that.”

I looked over to my car, which held emergency supplies in the trunk. I would be taking my chances opening it with the crowd of people in a panic. I was sure they would begin grabbing what I had.

“We have to get to the boat. Once we find it, you can get it ready, and I’ll come back for some things in my car,” I said.

“We have to get to the house; this waterway doesn’t go near there, and we have to get back to our family.”

“We’ll just get to the other-side and have to walk from there, but the roads are going to be useless.”

“I believe you’re right,” my father said. “If they finished prepping your boat, it will be there under that canopy,” he said, pointing down to the waterfront where boats were docked under the shelter.

The walkway had become almost empty as most everyone was in the parking lot and trying to leave. My father and I began a brisk run down to the docks. Along the way, the walkway took us through a small gazebo-type building that held drink and snack machines. I caught sight of another trail of the blocks the alien ship had shot out. It ran from the right corner of the building across to the far left corner. Here the blocks also looked to be molded only a couple of inches down in the floor. As I stepped over them, I took a look up at the roof. Neat, clean square holes formed in the roof  where the blocks dropped through, and square beams of sunlight shone down onto the floor. I called out to my father and pointed to the blocks, warning him to step over them. We continued through the other side and back out,trotting down to the water’s edge where the boats were docked. Under the canopy, we saw rows of empty slips; every boat had been taking including mine.

“Now what?” I thought out loud.

“Your boat may be in the back of the marina,” my father said, “That’s where the ones still being detailed are kept.” He pointed down the waterway in the direction of the end of the canopy. “I believe the pier here follows the marina’s length and around to the rear.” He took up the lead, and I followed.

We followed the pier which ran parallel with the shore about thirty feet out. Around a bend to the left, we hit a snag. The deck of the pier had been demolished and what was left were the pilings and their 2×6 struts connecting them together; about another fifty feet ahead, I could see several boats lined along a short dock.

“We can’t waste a lot of time going back and around again; we’ll have to make our way across the struts.” I informed my father. It was no big deal; the pilings were five feet apart, and the wood seemed sturdy enough to support our weight. My father took one side while I took the other. After about twenty feet, I heard my father grunt, and I looked over just in time to see him plunge into the water.

“Dad!” I shouted; he fell into the water and out of sight. I was just about to go in after him when he quickly popped back up.

“I’m OK,” he yelled while wading. He swam near the piling I was clinging to and looked up at me. “I’ll swim over to the shore and meet you at the boats,” he said.

Although I had heard him, my mind was transfixed on his eyes, the irises had turned nearly black so that I could hardly make out the pupils.

“Bill,” my father said bewildered, “your eyes.”

“Thy’re black,” I answered.

“Yes, how did you know?” he asked.

“Because so are yours,” I answered him. “Get to the shore Dad and we’ll worry about it later.”

He turned in the water and swam to the shore. I continued stepping from one piling to the other; they ended about fifteen feet from the dock of the boats. My father was already there and taking inventory of them.
“They’ve all been stripped of their gas tanks and batteries,” he informed me, “there may be some up at the maintenance building, we can go look.” he suggested and pointed to the large boat storage and maintenance facilities building some three hundred feet away.

My only way to him was to jump in the water or back track. “I’ll go get the car while you search the maintenance building for gas and a battery. We can then load everything onto a boat,” I shouted to my father, just as I was about to jump in the water.

My father saw me about to take a dive and yelled, “Wait!” I stopped and looked to him. “If you want to get to the car,” he said, “go back the way we came. To get to the parking lot from here, you have to go a round-about way which will take longer on foot.”

“OK,” I answered, “I’ll meet you back here.” He nodded, turned and headed to the maintenance building. I returned to crossing, once again on the struts between piling. Once back on the pier I took off in a hard run, and  coming around the bend I slowed to a quick walk. Some yards away a Coast Guard ship arrived and docked next to the pier where a had been dropped. Men and women of the guard were setting up some large gun. As I headed toward them, a female officer on the other side of the gun’s frame saw me and drew her side arm and aimed it at me.

“Stop right there!” she ordered. “Do not come any closer!”

I raised my hands, “It’s OK; I just want to pass through. I need to get to my car.” I made a couple of steps, and she cocked the hammer back.

“One more step and I will shoot to kill.”

“I’m not an enemy,” I shouted to her, “I just need to get to my car! It’s right up there.” I pointed behind her up to the hill where I could just see the front of my car.” While we shouted back and forth, the crew continued their rushing on and off the ship bringing parts and setting up the gun as if neither the officer or I were there.

“Turn around and go back the way you came,” she demanded.

“Lady,” I pleaded, “it’ll take too long to go around. Why can’t I just come through and be on my way?”
“Because I said you cannot pass through here. I don’t have time for this, go back now, or I will kill you,” she said.

“What the hell is going on?” a heavy male voice called out. I turned to see a man—a civilian—come down the ramp from the ship. He stood a good six and a half feet tall, close to sixty years old and dressed in a plaid shirt and blue jeans that were well worn. He was glancing between me and the officer. At the bottom of the ramp, his full attention fell on me.

I did not move but informed him that I just needed to get through and to my car but the officer holding the gun was being unreasonable. He stared at me briefly. “She can’t allow you through—you’re contaminated. You will have to go back, or you will be shot,” he said calmly.

“Contaminated with what?” I asked.

“Look,” the man explained in a laid-back tone, “you must have crossed over some blocks that the alien crafts are embedding everywhere. They send out a field that when you pass through not only makes you go blind but in making contact with anyone, causes them to go blind as well. You can’t come any closer, and you’re interfering with our work. I’m sorry but turn around now, or I will order the officer to kill you.”

“Blind, for how long?” I asked stunned.

“Don’t know, maybe permanent,” the man said with no concern in his voice. “You need to go.” he added.

I looked around only moving my head. It had begun to get darker. I had thought it was just the sun going down but when I looked, the sun was high in the sky. My only hope was to jump in the water now and swim across. I thought about my father and the need to get back to him as soon as possible. During those thoughts, I awoke from the dream.

A Time Traveled

In case you haven’t noticed, the posting of my dreams has no order, I wish it did. The time I get to write them out is limited and in the meantime, I’m having other dreams so some get placed to the side—then there is the mood I’m in which dictates which one I want to work on. Eventually some will go into limbo.
The following dream is about 4 years old and one of those I jumped back to every so often, somewhere along the way between PCs and formats the date got lost. If you have read my definitions of my dreams, you will see this one has been placed under dreams. This is only because I have no idea what type it was.

In the dream I’m fully aware but unable to control any part other than myself, so it’s not a lucid dream. By our scientific standards, it broke the laws of physics so, maybe not an out-of-body experience. So I placed it in dreams and leave it up to the reader’s imagination.
2011?

The transition between my reality into others is much like waking up. My first awareness is of light or perhaps some sound that gets my attention—in this case, sound. My first thought had been the squealing of many tires, then my body began to feel compressed. The squealing noise dug into my ears, and I had nearly awoken but forced myself to stay. I opened my eyes to a crowd of people packed around me. I was squeezed in so tight and unable to move, I guessed I must be at some event like a concert. My only movement was in my neck that allowed me to at least look up. I could see a roof above me with girders stretching across. The roof could have been no more than 15 feet high. The squealing, I came to realize, was from people. The surrounding faces were in a panic, and the squeals were screams of fear and agony. I pushed up on my toes, so I could see better; we were in some type of warehouse.

I eased further up on my tiptoes as far as I could rise. Staying in that position was not a problem due to the compression of those around me. The warehouse was about 100 feet in diameter. To the far wall in front of me, there seemed to be a gap of about 20 feet. What it was that kept the people from filling it I had no idea. My discomfort was becoming unbearable and along with the noise, I was under pressure to wake up. Something in the corner of the far wall to the left began to move. It was part of the wall raising. The section of the wall was perhaps twenty feet wide like the gap and ten feet high. The wall rolled up like a garage door. On the other side, I briefly thought it was another wall because it sat just inches from the roll up door. As soon as the door came to a stop the wall began to move inward. This caused a greater hysteria in the surrounding people, and the screaming became unbearable. The wall turned out to be a subway train that had sat outside waiting for the door to open.

As the train pulled inside, the surrounding pressure increased as the people in front pushed backward. The train rolled to the opposite wall and came to rest against it. Once the train came to a stop, doors along its side opened. I thought this would make the people happy as they could now enter the cars and release some pressure of those of us in the back row. Instead, they were fighting not to go inside the cars but in front they were forced inside due to the pressure of those of us behind them. Some clung to the side of the door entrances fighting to get back out. Some even climbed over the heads of others. I thought the screaming could not get any louder, but a new wave of panic arose. A gap appeared between the crowd about five feet from the train. It increased, and I saw those on the other side moving in the train. My guess was that a wall had come up and was forcing them into the cars. There were two cars about fifty feet long with wide windows. Through the glass, I could see people packed hard into the cars. The doors closed, and the train reversed back out of the warehouse. Just outside of the door it stopped. The rolled-up door began to descend while the train blocked the exit until the door had closed.

I looked around for an exit of my own but knew from the start if there was one, it would already be in use. People beat on the walls in hopes of finding some weak spot. Others joined in, and there was less pressure on me. With the pressure off me and some room, I, unlike the rest, pushed through the crowd to the back wall. As I leaned against the wall, a click sounded behind me. There was a small vertical seam running along the wall. I ran my fingers long it and felt an edge. The crowd in front had begun pushing against those behind them, and the pressure began to mount on me.

My body was pushed into the wall, and I heard another click and the line was gone. I then knew what it was, a pressure released door. Push and it opened, push again, and it seals. I shifted to the left of where the edge had been. Other bodies took my place and held pressure on the wall. I shouldered the wall, hearing the click, and the edge reappeared. I dug my finger nails into the edge and pulled. The door opened sufficiently to get my fingers inside, and I pulled hard. I could get the door open just enough to slip my body halfway in. Several people screamed in delight as they too saw the opening. I was slammed with pressure, which shoved me completely through. Due to the same pressure the door slammed shut.

I could hear the screams on the other side and knew that the panic from everyone trying to get the door open was, in fact, keeping it closed. I pushed on my side but the pressure from dozens or more bodies pressed against the outer wall was no match for me. I stepped back and looked for anything that could help pry the door open. Around me, was a narrow hall lined with stacked boxes on each side. I went to begin tearing through the boxes, but as soon as I had grabbed one, the screaming outside quickly faded. I looked back to the wall. I stepped up to where the door had been. I saw no outlines or seams. I held my ear against the surface and heard nothing. I tried pushing on the spot I had come through, but nothing moved. I slapped the surface and screamed, “Hello!” I placed my ear on the wall again, nothing.

I turned, looking back down the hall. The hall was still there, but the boxes held a more organized look. I walked down the hall between them toward a door at the end I had not noticed before. It was a plain door with a knob on the left side, when I turned the knob, the door opened. I stepped inside to a dimly lit room. The walls of the room were deep gray and computer banks ran along the wall beginning and ending just feet from each side of the door. The room was only about twenty-five to thirty feet in diameter. The computer banks ranged in height from four to six feet. Steady and blinking lights filled their surface along with screens here and there. To the left of me about the nine o’clock position stood a man in what looked to be early twentieth-century clothing. The man was jotting something down on a clipboard and seemed to be in deep thought; he had not even noticed me coming inside.

I closed the door which made a minuscule click but because the room itself was near silent the click made a small echo, startling the man. He jerked as though hit with an electric jolt and spun to face me. He nearly dropped the clipboard as he stammered out,
“Who are you?” he let out in a quick snap. “How did you get in here?” he added. I decided to answer his second question first. I turned a bit and glanced at the door.

“The door,” I answered him.

“That’s impossible!” he shouted, “That door is dead bolted from inside here,” I turned back to the door and searched for the deadbolt.

“There is no deadbolt,” I informed him. “Matter of fact,” I said while still looking at the door, ” there are no locks at all, even on the knob.” He rushed toward me. I thought he was on the attack and stepped to the side as he came head on but he stepped by me and up to the door. He inspected the door just above the knob.
“This should not have happened. This room including the door is in the neutral zone.”

“Well those people out there are in a panic and need help,” I told him. “Can you help them or are you causing their problem?”

“What people?” he asked.

“At the other end of the hall, in that warehouse,” I raised my voice at him.

“Warehouse?” he asked, surprised. “There’s nothing out there but dessert.”

I did not know what he was talking about but my concern was the warehouse full of people.

“We have to help those people,” I told him.

“What people? What are you talking about?” he asked.

I stepped over and pulled the door open and pointed out.
“There!” I glanced down the hall and was stunned.

The hall was replaced by the great outdoors. The outer door and frame had small leafy vines growing over the surface. Beyond the door, a wide-open expanse of field and trees grew sporadically. I stood stunned by the sight in front of me. My left hand held my balance against the door, but suddenly the door slipped out of my grip, and I nearly stumbled. The door slammed hard and the man screamed out, “This is a controlled environment.” I looked into his reddened face, only inches from mine. “I don’t know who you are or how you managed to get in here but, keep your hands off everything and do not open that door again.” He snapped the pointer finger of his right hand at the door while staring me in the face. He turned and rushed back to his console.

“There were people in some sort of trouble, an entire warehouse full of them,” I spoke out to him.

“Obviously they no longer exist,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the console screen.

He never gave my comment a second thought and went back to study his panel. Now that I looked, his anxiety seemed to be more on his work than my being there.

“What exactly is going on?” I asked.

“I’m a Chronologist. I’ve been able to create an existing path between the past, present and future. That computer,” he pointed to the six feet high box to the right of me, “bounces anything inside this cavern from the past to the future. The cavern has gone unchanged in the past millions of years to the far future. That way I can travel through time without effecting anything. However,” he snapped impatiently, “my established boundaries are somehow moving.”

As I watched him, his suit began to change. It went from the black overcoat, black pants and white shirt to a light-blue shirt and gray pants. When I looked at his face, it too had changed. His facial hair was gone, and his hair was several shades lighter. Although the cave itself stayed the same, the computers and panels changed shapes and places. Some vanished while others appeared in different places around the room.

“You’re changing the flow of time and the evolution of your world,” I informed him.
“What are you talking about? Nothing has changed.” Without looking at me, he tapped the graph on the display in front of him. “This cave is a neutral zone, that’s why I choose it.”

“The cave isn’t changing, you and your equipment are,” I told him.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. While making the comment his hair went blond and his body trimmed down as his height gained more than two inches. “I’m the same as I’ve always been,” he finished.
I was going to make a comment on his appearance change again but it would not help. He was making small changes in the past which effected his body and mind while I was the observer.

“Are you changing?” he asked sarcastically. I knew it really was not a question but I answered him just the same.

“No, because I’m not from this time line or dimension. Changes here won’t affect me.”

“Then leave!” he demanded. “You are disturbing me and my work.”

In the time it took him to speak the sentence, his form shrank down to about five feet tall. His waist line increased greatly, and his face became fat, wrinkled and red like an alcoholic. His clothes became a suit that looked as if he had been wearing it for days.

“The only changes here are the equipment and the debris I cleaned out.” As he was stating this his waist slimmed and his face narrowed. His skin turned a light tan color. Along with his look, his demeanor calmed. The suit went to a two piece toga.

“What debris?” I asked. His attention went from his display to me and he explained patiently as his demeanor changed. “Just rocks covering the floor,” he said and went back to monitoring the displays.

A thought came to me. “Where did the rocks come from?”

He looked at me. “From the cave roof of course.” Before he could turn his gaze from me, I hit him with another question.

“How?” I asked.

“Age, tremors, earthquakes. It could have been a number of causes. What would that have to do with anything. The cavern has been here for millions of years.”

“That’s right. Also, you have had the computer here for millions of years. Just think about all the tremors and earthquakes it has gone through. All your equipment is sitting on hard ground. That would put a lot of stress on electronics being shaken up.”

The stones that made up the cavern suddenly seemed to swell. As the surfaces expanded they flowed over the computers and panels that made up the lab. The screens went dead and the man let out a scream.

“No!” he shouted. As he screamed, his form shrunk down to about four feet tall. His skin became a leathery brown and his clothing changed over to something like a gray jumpsuit.

“Get out!” he yelled at me as he ran past. I took notice that his new form also had his arms and legs the same length. As he ran, he had dropped to all fours and sped past galloping. I followed him outside. Once we were clear of the cave, we came to a stop and turned. The entrance was gone, and nothing remained of the existence of the cave. Before us was nothing but a sheer high cliff. There came a small high-pitched voice behind us, and we turned together.

Another small being resembling the Chronologist stood looking at us. The Chronologist said something back in the same high-pitched tone. The two began chatting back and forth but in some language I could not understand. The Chronologist waved his short arms at the wall, and I knew he was explaining all that had transpired. I left the two and went to explore this world.
The sun was very bright and of a strong white color. The sky was a milky white and may be had the slightest touch of blue. The cliff where the cave was stretched from horizon to horizon. The land I stood on was flat as far as I could see. I could tell all of it had been level at one time but either the part I stood on had sunken or the cliff had risen.

The flat land looked more like a dying orchard of short stocky bushes holding old looking fruit. Strange machines floated motionless three feet off the ground. To my right, one was an old tanker that may have held water. Its surface and lower nozzle covered in rust. Open cavities which once held hoses had rotted away. I walked over to it. The tank may have been around a 1,000-gallon capacity and was mounted on a large one inch thick metal plate. All the machines seem to be mounted to a similar plate. This may have been some material that caused it to maintain a floating height of three feet from the ground. I gave the tanker a small push, and the vessel moved with ease. After it moved away from my hand, it glided for a couple of yards and came to a slow smooth stop.

Not too far off hovered another piece of equipment. This looked like the arm of an excavator. The arm, like the tank, was set on a plate. The base of the arm sat inside a bowel that held the round joint of the arm. This would have allowed the arm 360 radii while also allowing for up and down movement. The base arm extended up about ten feet and met the fore arm at another elbow. The fore arm was about twelve feet long and hung down away from the base at 45 degrees. The end of the arm held a three limb claw. The tips look as if they would be used for plowing while the grip was small enough to pick or plant crops. Even with the weight of the arm extended beyond the edge of the plate, the plate had no tilt.

I heard a commotion back toward the cliff wall. I turned and saw the chronologist prying off the panel of what looked to be some strange tractor. It was a simple square looking box with a seat on top. The seat and controls sat on a pedestal which again was all mounted in the plate. The being we had encountered was jumping up and down chatting loudly. Once he grabbed the chronologist’s arm and tried to pull him away. The chronologist just pushed him away. I guessed the chronologist had been looking for resources in order to rebuild his time machine. Darkness fell quickly over me and when I looked around, I was in my bed. The dream came to an end.

The Crossing

As of June 25, 2014, godaddy, my web and blog host provider will terminate this and all their other blogs. Leaving customers out in the cold does not seem to be a problem for godaddy however’ this has left me in a scramble to download all my blogs and set them back up to word press.
I am not sure if this will be my last post from the godaddy quick blog however, here is the new address. I hope you will subscribe again at my new home; https://wtcjr.wordpress.com
Thank you,
William T Carroll, Jr.

Friday, June 6, 2014; (an unconscious dream)
It was some time after midnight and I was in my car. I was on my way to some appointment and seemed to be running a bit behind. I knew of a short cut, a road rarely used from the main road I was on through a small neighborhood. I took a right off the road onto the shortcut. The shortcut was an abandoned road that had become narrow due to the overgrowth of a field on both sides. The road was rough and cracked, keeping me around 25 mph.

Something several yards away dashed out from the left of the tall grass and into the right side of the field. The movement had been too fast and sudden to see what it might have been but it was a light brown or tan and about the size of a dog. I turned on my high beams which lit up the field on both sides and the back of homes some distance away at the end of the road.

The field on both sides grew from about two feet high along the edge to nearly six feet about ten feet away from the road. I began to get sleepy and pushed the car up to 30 mph. Something bolted out from the left of the high grass just in front of my car. I hit the brakes coming to an immediate stop. Whatever the animal had been, it had completed its crossing quick and unharmed. All I had seen of it was a tan pelt the size of a fox, not that it had been one. I continued on, bringing my speed back up to 25 mph.

Far ahead, another animal rushed across from the left over to the right and disappeared into the grass. It had been too far away and fast to get a look at what it may have been but it was large like a deer. It also had the same tan color as the last two. The homes I had first seen, seemed no closer than before. I moved my speed back up to 30 mph.

After only seconds at that speed, my instincts caused my foot to hit the brake as another animal cut across close in front of me. This one had been the smallest but as the others, had the same tan color. I proceeded on, slowly regaining my 25 mph speed. Just within my sight up ahead something the size of a buck bounded over the road in two strides from the left. It landed in the right side of the field.

As I had done with all the encounters, I glanced over to the right where they had gone. I never saw any of them. Strangely no two had been the same size or shape but all had been the same light tan color and I had gotten no good look at any of them. The homes I was going toward were getting no closer. It soon became apparent that when I got up to 30 mph, the creatures would wait and race out in front of me. Below that speed, they would cross far ahead just within my headlights but not close enough to tell what they were.

As I drove I held the car to 25 and continued to glance over to the right side of the road. The tall grass was the same shade of tan as were the animals that had been crossing. I began to see forms moving within the grass and slowed. As I slowed the animals either moved deeper into the grass or sank down. The homes at the end had been in my sights for many minutes but still I was no closer— like a mirage they stayed at the same distance all the time. Sleep began to overwhelm me and I found it harder to stay on the narrow road. No longer able to drive safely, I came to a stop. My thought was to shut the car off and sleep until morning. I had hoped when the sun came up I would be able to get to the end of the road.

I worried that another car might come up behind me and run into the back of me. I eased the car over to the right. I drove slowly as the front of my car had to push the high grass down. Completely off the road, the right side, front and rear of my car were buried against the grass. If anyone did come along, they would not see me until they were right beside me.

I turned the car off which cut the lights as well. I dropped my seat back to sleep. Although there were no lights out I could just make out the tops of the grass surrounding me. Forms began to move through the grass coming up to the car. They moved around and against the car, I reached to turn on the lights but the forms rushed away. I turned on the lights, seeing nothing but the road to my left and the grass around me.

Then strange creatures moved deep within the grass, so camouflaged that it was hard to see them once they stood still. The grass seemed to become thick with the creatures and I began to get nervous. I started the car and eased back out on the road. Picking up speed again, the animals also continued crossing the road once more, still too faraway to make out. My eyes remained heavy and a few times I nodded off. On one of my nods, I jerked my head back up only to find myself in my bed awake.

Drunken Jack

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

One discrepancy I see in my blog as a whole relates to purpose of expandurmind. I have always stated that this blog is about me, my dreams and their effects on my life, although this was only a part within the whole when I began. My idea then was to make it a combination of my dreams and science-fiction stories I had written. The second post was actually two dreams I had formed into one, about a year before I began the blog. The purpose was to get this published. I did send it out to two publishers, but neither was interested. They never said why.

Friday, June 18, 2010; 6:27 PM, I put it in expandurmind.com as the second post. What caught me by surprise was the response I received in the following weeks, not from my story but from the other dreams. At the time, the only ones to know about my blog were friends and co-workers. They all thought it had been a great idea. Their word of mouth along with mine caused an audience explosion, and the numbers steadily rose, as they still do. Subsequently, I knew where I wanted to take this.

Since then it is the only thing I have focused on, and it has worked out very well, thank you. For those of you who have been here from the beginning, you may see some changes in my older posts. Because of newer members who have joined, I want to tidy the place up a bit. The only real change going back is to make the posts easier to read, such as larger fonts and spaces between lines. One major change is throwing out the second post. I will keep a link to the original story so no one will think I am trying to pull a fast one.

The second part, “Expelling Air”, which is an actual lucid dream will stay on the initial date. The first part which I re-wrote as a science-fiction story will be taken out. To keep expandurmind.com consistent, here is the original out-of-body experience I encountered.

Painting by,
Margaret H. Vincent

Early to mid 1990’s; (OBE)

I stared at a door in front me. Looking behind me, was a sidewalk running along a busy city street. Since I was here, I decided to go in. It was a bar. The place was quiet with dim lighting and a jukebox. I saw two people over at the bar, a bartender and waitress. In the far, corner were two booths, one with an elderly man; his head slumped against the wall and an almost empty pitcher of beer in front of him. He seemed to be passed out so I took the booth across from him. The lone waitress came over and set a bottle of beer in front of me without having to ask. I was going to like the out-of-body experience.

Is the old man O.K.?” I asked her, pointing at the man in the next booth whom I had not seen move at all since I sat down.

Oh yeah,” she smiled, “that’s Drunken Jack. He drinks until he passes out then in about an hour or two he’ll wake up and go home. Don’t worry,” she said, “He won’t bite.” At that, she left me alone.

I found myself staring over at Drunken Jack in his booth, picking out things such as his glass or the napkin holder. I had been staring when suddenly I spotted bubble inches away from Jack’s face. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

The object dropped to the table making a loud noise as it struck solidly, informing me it was not a bubble. At that moment, Drunken Jack popped out of his slumber. With a dazed and confused look in his face, he tried sitting up. After briefly looking around, he quickly grabbed the sides of the table in both his hands, causing, what I call a marble to roll around the table’s top. Frantic, he released one side of the table and scrambled to catch it, knocking over his pitcher, spilling what little beer was left into his lap. He had the marble clutched tightly holding his left hand while still holding the table with his right.

Are you O.K.?” I asked.

Wavering back and forth in his seat, he tried to focus but found it difficult. He shook his head a few times. Taking his gaze from me to the surroundings of the bar, he seemed not to know where he was.

What sort of vehicle is this? It moves in a strange way.” He said, looking at me. I gave him a moment to collect himself. I hoped even in his state of mind, a little sense would come back, and I would not have to be bothered with him. Still clutching the table and his marble, he asked, “Are we in a ground or space transport?”

You’re the one traveling man, whether it’s ground or space only you would know that,” I answered. The old man looked rough and worn; life and time had not been good to him so, I left my booth and walked over to his. I pulled a handful of napkins from the dispenser. Throwing a few on the table to soak up his drink, I placed the rest in front of him.

Here, you might want to throw some on your lap.” I turned to go wanting to see more than the inside of a bar while in the dimension.

Please, stay,” he said, “This transports movements throw me off balance.”

O.K.” I answered, thinking, I’ll sit here long enough to finish my drink than act as though I’m going for another and slip out the door.

I sat across from him as he once again studied his surroundings. The waitress had said earlier that he came here often, but right now he seemed to be unfamiliar with the place.

You said, I was the only one traveling, so you’re aware of where I’m from?”

Well,” I stated, “I’m not too sure where you’re from but any more drinks, and I can only guess where you’ll be headed.”

He slowly released his grip on the table and peered into the now empty pitcher, while eying the bottom, he took in several deep sniffs.

I feel as though I’m in a state of constant shifting. Is this artificial gravity… perhaps it’s not working right?”

Gravity’s just fine, maybe you should take a break for a while.” I reached over and took the pitcher from him before the last few drops ended up in my lap.  

A break from what? I just got here” he said.

From your drinking.” He seemed to become even more curious about the pitcher, eying it with great wonder. 

Is my shifting caused by this drink?” 

Yeah, and I’d say anymore, and you’ll be shifting all afternoon.” 

Remarkable!” he reasoned with wide blood shot eyes, “A culture with a drink that allows dimensional transference?” He lifted the marble he had in his grasp in front of his face and shook his head. “And we thought we were advanced. What would it be worth to you for me to get the recipe for this, that is if you have any knowledge of the ingredients? A trade of knowledge perhaps.” Although he still fought to keep his balance, he babbled on as though he were sober.   

You seem to be doing OK.” I said, “So I’ll just mosey on outta here.”

I got up to leave and he rushed from the booth, “Wait!” he yelled.

He lost his balance and before I could intervene, he fell to the floor, the marble rolling away from him. I saw that he was not hurt then reached out to pick up his marble, but he let out a scream, “No, don’t touch it!” Like a man crawling from a burning building, he slid across the floor and grasped it in both hands, then lay there clutching the thing. The waitress walked over,

Jack, Rooney says you’re cut off and need to go home.” I took Rooney for the bartender leaning over the counter shaking his head.

I don’t think he can go anywhere just yet,” I replied. “Don’t worry.” I reached down to help the old man up. He still held tightly to his marble, unfortunately most his other ones he had lost long ago. I helped him back into the booth then sat myself across from him. I downed what was left of my beer and ordered another before the waitress went back to flirt with Rooney.

You would think,” he started impatiently, “that a civilization that can create a drinkable dimensional fluid could have its gravity generators run a little more smoothly.”

Is that your way of saying thank you for picking your rear off the floor? Then you’re welcome,” I said.

Thank you. I apologize but I promised my associates I would be brief and return right away.” He peered into his hands.

You must understand it has taken years to develop another Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb. The last mover lost his in some stupid game of chance, so he says.” He was still staring at his hands making sure it was really there.

I had no idea what he was talking about and figured he did not either or maybe he was just pulling my chain to cover his embarrassment for spilling his beer.

Years?” I asked, “Those things are turned out by the millions every day.” His head popped up as if he had heard a gunshot.

Impossible!” he said in defense, “The technology for locking in super strings can not be done over night.”

The waitress returned with my beer, then returned to her uninterested bartender.

Whatever bud,” I said picking up the bottle. “You stick to your solids,” pointing the marble in his hands. “And we’ll stick to our fluids.” I turned up the bottle and downed a quarter of it.

How long?” he asked.

I’m sorry?”

How long until the fluid takes effect.” He motioned his hands at the bottle.

Not long enough.” I answered.

A trade then. I can make it worth your while.”

I gave him a strange look. Since I first came over to play the good Samaritan, I had been playing babysitter.

Of course,” I said replying to his question, “Why everyone here knows the formula, see here.” I picked up my bottle and held it up in front of him pointing to the label. “Ingredients.” He went to take the bottle with his free hand but I pulled it back. “You wanted to make it worth my while, I believe.”

I could trade you information on other dimensions I have visited.”

So he was a traveler like myself. I am always interested in others who travel out-of-body, so I decided to stay. Even though he struggled to speak through his drunkenness, he seemed quite passionate in his effort to obtain his goal.

I don’t think so,” I answered, “I already have so much information, more would only bore me. How about telling me what’s up with that marble of yours.” I really wanted to know where the marble had come from and why he held onto it so dearly.

Marble?” he asked.

The glass ball in your hand.”

He held the marble between his fingers up to the light. It was roughly an inch and a half in diameter, clear and flawless. I reached out to touch it and the old man snatched it away.

Don’t touch it,” he snapped, “your energy pattern mixed with mine will break down the outside barrier causing it to free the dimensional energy waves.”

Dimensional energy waves?” I asked. He released his grip on the table and made a half effort to sit up straight,

You know, dimensional energy wave patterns.” he said.

Sorry,” I replied, “I guess I’m not up on all that.

He took a glance at his surroundings, I could tell he was having a difficult time focusing his eyes on any one thing.

But I’m sure your culture is familiar with atoms and super-strings?” he said, “You’re aware of the energy just one atom holds.”

Sure, we’ve got weapons that use them.”

Weapons!” This seemed to sober him up a bit, “Does your culture have a death wish? I hope for your sake there are very few.”

Yea, we’ve got one or two I believe.”

One is still too many but anyhow. You’re aware of the make-up of dimensions, right?”

To be quite honest,” I told him, “I’m not up on the make-up but I seem to travel between them qiut well.”

Ah.” he responded, “A novice.”

Not really.”

O.K., let me see if I can explain, look at the size of your form. Now think of the number of atoms that make you up, that’s a lot of energy there. A lot of energy in one place, and not just you but the surrounding others. The table here, the glass, the floor the walls, all have this energy, it has to be stored somewhere. That’s where dimensions come in, like a battery, there are different cells inside to spread out and store the energy. Different cells, same energy. Different dimensions, but all the same energy. Your energy pattern is not only here but in infinite other dimensions as well. Waves of this energy flow back and forth though these dimensions. This explains why atoms seem to disappear and reappear. When the energy waves flow though this dimension you see them, when it flows though others you don’t.”

For an old man who looked as if he were running on just two or three brain cells, Drunken Jack seemed to be making sense. You see, beyond our reality there is only one true universe, like a battery. Inside exist a possibly infinite number of cells we call dimensions. All the energy in each atom that makes you here, also makes you in many more of these dimensions.”

You’re telling me that at this moment, a million or more other me’s are doing the same thing right now?”

No,” he replied, “That’s not how it works. Look,” he said patiently, “Every particle that makes you up is shared energy with your counterparts. You share the same soul but each has his own spirit.”

Until now, I had been slumped over the table with my head resting in the palm of my hand propped up on my elbow. My head went up at his mention of the spirit and I had to interrupt him.

Souls, spirits!” I exclaimed, “I thought we were talking about energy and physics, physical things.”

The soul and spirit are physical things. They are just two of the many types of energy levels. One being inanimate energy, that which binds together to form the table, walls, rocks and the like. Then there’s the energy of the soul… it gives life. Then there is the energy of the spirit. It separates us, makes us individuals.”

I think I understand but you said all of my counterparts, were not doing the same thing. If we are all the same energy then how could we be different?”

Like the energy in the battery, it’s the same energy but can run more than just the music box, got it? You may be living a parallel life in a few others but in many more you could be a firefighter, a pilot, a Starship captain or you may even be dead.”

Dead!”

Yes, or perhaps you haven’t even been born yet. You could even be so alien in some, that your nothing more than a puddle of intelligent slime. You all share the same energy of the soul but each of you has the higher energy of the spirit. Making you all individuals.”

So what does all this have to do with your marble?” I asked.

First of all it’s not called a marble, it is a Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb.”

Marble, is a lot easier to remember.” I said, chuckling. He stared at me briefly, unamused.

Dimensions coexist, energy waves separate them,” he held the marble or Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb back up to the light above the table. “It takes years for us to collect bits of these waves called super-strings. We as solid bodies cannot travel from one dimension to the other but our individual consciousness can, due to the shared energy. This Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb, is packed with an infinite amount of super-strings of each dimension. This allows the conscious mind to pass over to our counterparts.”

If only the soul can travel between dimensions,” I asked, “then how is your Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb here also?”

Its waves are Harmonized to my consciousness. The orb stays back in my dimension unless, like now, my consciousness is fully in charge.”

Why the big deal if I touch it?”

Depends,” he said, “should you and I touch it together, the energy pattern becomes unbalanced and the dimensional waves break free. I awaken back in my body and wait years for another to be built for me. Should you or anyone else other than my counterpart touch it alone, the Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb balances to your waves and stays with you. Now how about those ingredients.”

Sure.” I said, “but hold it up to the light again.”

Jack eyed me with suspicion. I held up my hands then laid my hands palms down on the table. Drunken Jack held the Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb in his palm under the light.

Don’t worry my friend,” said Jack, “The day will come when your people too will have something similar.”

Not anytime soon, I’m sure.” I said.

My people have a saying, ‘If a man receives only one gift in his life, let it be patience’.”

Yuh, mine also have a saying.” I replied.

What is that?” asked drunken Jack.

The hand is quicker than the eye.” At that moment two things took place.

Drunken Jack looked at me for clarification on what I had just said and in that same moment, my right hand jumped up, slapping the bottom of his. The Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb, popped into the air just in time for my left hand to catch it. I became engulfed in deja-vu, in addition to experiencing memories of the past and a foreshadowing my future.

Then as quickly as it had come, the feeling drained away with a tingle throughout my body. What my mind played back seemed like hours but I realized that only a couple of seconds had passed. I looked back to Jack; his expression changed from shock to that of one who was slipping into drunkenness. In only a few seconds he was back to the man whom I had first seen when I had entered the bar. His head slumped back on the wall and he began a light snore.

Looks like drunken Jack is out for the evening.” I looked up to see the waitress back at the table, “Would you like anything else?”

No thank you,” I said, “I’ve got some exploring to do.”

I looked into my hand, in it sat a flawless piece of glass, or a Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb. At the time, I didn’t know which.

I stared into the orb and darkness over took me. I opened my eyes to find I was back in my bed in my reality but no Dimension Harmonizing Locker Orb to be found.

 

Wake up

It’s really a disadvantage having an unconscious dream when those in the dream are lucid.

I have always been an early riser regardless of a workday or time off. I have a knack for being punctual, which sometimes places my wife and I at odds. She is a firm believer of being fashionably late. One  fear of mine is being late for work, which has happened once, maybe twice in the past ten years. Due to the distance, I drive one way to work; I give myself plenty of leeway. Most times I arrive an hour or more early so, I place my seat back and get in some meditation time. On a lot of these occasions, I have some pretty interesting dreams and/or out-of-body experiences, this was one of those mornings.

Thursday, January 9, 2014; (Unconscious dreaming)
I was driving through an unfamiliar town in the left lane of a three-lane street. The light ahead was red and there were at least a dozen cars in my lane but none in the right two lanes. I put on my blinker and got into the center lane. Just then a company van that had been ahead of me in the left lane, switched to the middle lane, cutting me off.

I blew my horn and went into the far-right lane. A car further up in the far left lane pulled out and in front of the van. The van pulled into the right lane cutting me off once again but this time nearly hitting me. We stopped for the light, the van in front and me behind. I went to get the information from the van logo on the back when the light changed, and the van sped ahead.

I wanted to catch up with it, but my car began to stall through the light. I pushed the pedal to the floor which caused it to sputter and jerk. After only a couple of seconds, the car lurched ahead. As I made it through the intersection, the van made a left turn into the driveway of a heating and cooling company. When I got out, I noticed that the driver had just stepped into the front office of the building.

A sign on the door said the office was closed over the weekend. I began writing down the information from the van when the driver came back out pushing a bicycle. The driver was a young woman in her early twenties. I informed her that she had cut me off twice back at the light, and I was going to contact her employer first thing Monday morning. She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking past me and down the driveway onto a circular sidewalk.

I yelled over to her, “You don’t care that your employer may reprimand you?”

No, nothing will happen,” she said.

Why’s that?” I asked as I was still writing down the information.

Because you’re dreaming,” she responded.

I looked up from my note pad over to the girl. She was standing facing me holding up her bike when she screamed,

WAKE UP!!!” Which startled me, causing me to wake back up in my car.

Point of Origin

There is some repetition in my editorials; this is due to the many new visitors I receive daily. I do not want to misrepresent myself by the way I describe  my dreams. Although some of my dreams have deep conversations, my memory is not to the point of recalling each and every word. It would be easier just to write the general idea of the dialog but that would leave out the emotional reactions and some really great discussions. For the most part the conversations you read are 90-95 % accurate.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012; (Unconscious dreaming)

Dreamed I was drifting in space. Whether in a ship or floating with just my body, I do not recall. I do remember the bright stars of many colors and the blackness of space that could be seen between them. One star in the center of my view got brighter. The surrounding stars did not move, giving my brain the information that I was approaching the object. Even as it filled the sky, I could not make out the shape. If I thought of it as square, then it seemed wrong. If I thought of the object as a circle or ball, that seemed wrong also. One thing I am sure of is that it was silver, bright and large like an amphitheater or coliseum.

As I neared the object I could not see any ports or entry points. I want to say that I do recall some form of lines running horizontally to my view, over its surface but I can not be sure. My course was straight at the object and just as I had tensed up waiting for an impact, I found myself inside a narrow hallway. Somehow I knew that I was inside the object and that I was safe. There was normal gravity and air with no traces of smells.

The hallway was dark but for an intense light that was reflecting a short distance away at the end. I proceeded to the end of the hall. The hallway opened into a large chamber, how large I could not tell due to the darkness beyond the light. I stepped into the chamber and saw the light hovering inches above the floor. The light, an intense red, was about 60-70 feet in diameter and made up of dozens, of thread like beams of light sprouting from a center point. As I walked over to the light I passed a dark haired woman going the opposite way. I said hello to her but she passed as if never noticing me. I turned in the direction she had passed but she was gone; even the hall I had just come through had been replaced by a dull gray wall.

The surrounding walls that made up the chamber, were placed together like an octagon puzzle. The intense light that was the focal point of the chamber did not reflect off the walls.  The redness was that of an LED that had been stretched out some 25-30 feet. The light did nothing to push back the shade-like darkness along the walls.. As if looking at a noon sun on a television, I could stare directly into each thread without squinting. Approaching the light, I saw other people walking around, none seemed to pay me or the light any attention. They all seem to be coming and going in different directions. I did notice openings in the walls as they entered the chamber but but the openings quickly closed in a shrinking fashion until only the solid wall remained.

I came up to the light, stopping within inches of the thread-like beams that made it up. All the threads were evenly spaced and protruded from a single point in the middle. This middle point did not shine any brighter nor thickened with the merger of all the threads but looked to continue down as if looking at the center from many miles away. Perhaps they did not meet at all but only looked as if they did. From the corner of my eyes I saw two people, a man and woman approaching.

Excuse me,” I asked the couple as they went by “can you tell me were I am?” they paid me no mind and continued past. I wondered if they knew I was even there. Perhaps only certain people could see or hear each other so I shouted out;

Can anyone here tell me where I am?”

Almost instantly I heard, “You will have to be more direct.” I looked all about,  for I had no idea where the voice had come from.

Where are you?” I asked.

Here,” it spoke. I turned to look in the direction of the light.

Where?”

Here,” it repeated but this time one of the threads brightened briefly more than the others.
I stepped up to the end of the thread which was only an inch or two higher then my eyes.
“Are you communicating through this?” I asked.

No, this is who we are.”

A being,” I stated.

Yes, this is our form here.”

In this chamber?” I asked.

Yes, and in this dimension. Here, we are pure energy but take on different forms in each dimension.”

Where are the others?” I asked.

What others?”

You keep saying, “we” but I only see one of you.”

What you see are the sum of us,” the thread communicated.

Each thread of light is an individual.”

Yes, but the correct term would be ‘Ligature’..”

I knew very little of the word except the term meant link or binding if I recalled correctly. A man passed near us and once again paid me nor the Ligature or Ligatures any mind.

Who are the people around us?” I asked.

Energy patterns. Along with dimensions and universes we explore time lines. In certain places we can not transverse time, so chambers like this one, house the energy patterns of the beings we study through their times.”

So why can I see you but they can’t?”

You are here. A product of your own will.”

So you are studying humans here,” I stated.

Something like that. We come here often to keep a connection with our ancestors.”

Ancestors?” I said with a shock. “You were human at one time?”

We still are, but evolved from our physical form as we mentioned.”

When?”

Soon after your time.”

My time? What year is this?”

It’s what you call the year 6232. Within your millennium, many humans evolved from your form of human.”

So this is all that’s left of the human race.” I said.

No. Over the millenniums, humans have taken on many forms. A few still resemble the ones of your century.”

Where do you live now if you’re traveling through the multi-verse?” I asked waving my hand to acknowledge the group of lights.”

Here.” The center or point where they all seemed connected lit briefly, as a small twinkle. “This,” it continued, “is our point of origin.”

But where is that?” I asked. “In the past or in another dimension?”

It is not a time or place but is where they started.”

Are we talking this universe or just everything?”

Yes.” It responded then added, “It is time for you to leave.”

But I want to learn more.” I said.

Good,” it spoke. “Go there.”

The single Ligature stretched out in a blink, almost touching one of the many walls that made up the place. I looked at the place it had reached out to. It was if not near the point I had come out into the chamber from. I looked back to the light.

There’s nothing there,” I said.

There is,” it said. “It is your point of origin. Go there.”

I walked over to the section of the wall that the Ligature had reached out to. I stopped just inches from the surface and looked it over. I placed my hand out to touch the surface but instead of contacting the wall I awoke.

As far as the name “Ligature”, I actually could not recall the name they had told me; however, recalling that their name was symbolic to “link” or “binding”, Ligature was my best guess.

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