A series of dreams I had after we met

The Ping Test

(dream ~ 2016; written around 2018)

About two nights ago, I was feeling more haunted than usual. It occurred to me to look up on google/youtube to see if I can find how genuine gold sounds like. Sounds like a weird thing to want to know, but there was this dream I had after I met A....

Shortly after we met, I had this dream where I was in yet another dilapidated, post-apocalyptic looking building. I found it odd this dream had that post-apocalyptic noir vibe to it, because around this time in my life - post spiritual experience - my dreams were set in environments filled with light, compared to the usual aesthetic of my pre-spiritual-experience dreams/nightmares. The building was made of large stone blocks, and I was left with the impression it burnt at some point in its past. It was dark, cold, and damp inside. The interior was medieval looking, and it seemed, and felt like a maze, with most rooms leading to many other rooms.

I didn't know why I was there, but I was going from room to room. At one point I wondered if I got lost, but I kept on going. I started to feel as if I was looking for something, as if I was supposed to find something inside the building. I didn't know what I was looking for, or even if there was indeed something for me to find in there. I reached a large room. Somewhere to my right, there was a large rectangular, and slightly elevated niche. Inside that niche stood two beautifully carved, black wooden rods. The rods were mounted on a wall in an 'X', and at the end pointing upwards had what seemed like a solid gold flame.

I took one of the rods having the inner knowing it belongs to me. I, then just stood there holding the rod as if I was waiting for something. I remember I was on the cusp of getting bored, and annoyed with waiting, when A. showed up, and took the other rod. We just looked at each other briefly, and then proceeded to find our way out of the building. We were walking side by side holding onto our rod, gold flame pointing down. The golden flames were touching each other, and their contact was making a deafening, ringing sound. Replaying that ringing, high pitched metallic sound in my memory I feel my teeth hurt.

The golden flames at one of the rods' end looked like genuine solid gold, but hearing that sound...for some reason I associated that sound with the idea that the gold had to be fake.

Some time passed from the moment I had this dream, and I don't remember what gave me the idea to google/youtube the sound of gold this particular night. I found there is something called the ping test for metals, which helps you identify metals based on the sound they make. In my mind, I was sure I was going to find gold makes this low pitched sound, rather than the high pitched, ringing sound I heard in my dream. I was wrong because the sound gold makes is the same exact sound I heard in my dream.

Your Folder Has My Name On It

(~2017)

I've always been a heavy dreamer. Ever since I can remember I had some truly wacky dreams. And by wacky I mean nightmarish many times, or just surreal wacky the rest of the times. I can actually count the number of times I had beautiful, and peaceful dreams - I have trouble remembering any right now.

The wacky surreal type dreams usually feature realistic type interactions, mostly with people that are already in my life at the time of dreaming. These dreams seem to hold the existing emotional energy between me, and the person from my dream, and sometimes they are filled with all sorts of symbols.

After me and A. met, I had numerous dreams of him. The following is one of them.

***

We were in whatever was that lounge room of his. The room had a different interior than the interior it had the night we met; a different interior with the same vibe. On the wall opposite the window there was a double bed, with tan coloured sheets. It felt as if we were in a relationship. We were lying naked in bed, next to each other. We started making love.

We were in an embrace, with him on top of me. All of a sudden he held me still making me feel I couldn't escape. He looked into my eyes, and I looked into his. As I was looking into his eyes, I saw them turning red. He acted as if he wanted me to see his eyes turning red. I instantly became terrified, and felt I had no escape. It seemed that in that moment he showed me his true colors. It seemed it was turning out he really was that entity I had hoped he wasn't. Whatever love I ever perceived coming from him, seemed like a lie meant to lure me in. I didn't know how to react to his eyes turning red, so I said nothing. I felt paralyzed, and it stopped feeling like we were making love the moment his eyes turned red. It stopped feeling we were making love the moment I came to fear him. When the 'love making' ended, he didn't acknowledge anything that just happened. I didn't know who he was anymore, and I was scared. His failure to acknowledge what happened scared me even more, and I found myself thinking I should free myself from him. I acted as if nothing happened, just like he did. I didn't want to confront him, and possibly jeopardize my potential escape. It was only potential escape, because in that moment, I thought that maybe there was a reasonable explanation for it all, or maybe I just imagined it.

We both made our way to the bathroom in complete silence. It felt we were both pretending nothing out of the ordinary happened. For a moment, I thought I was just imagining he was unperturbed, but he was too silent; silent enough for it all to feel bizarre. Something happened, but he was pretending it didn't happen. That had me feeling a lot of fear. I feared that if I was confront him, he would just gaslight me. Then, I found myself hoping that the oddity of his silence meant he was just working up the courage to tell me something weird happened to him when we were making love. I found myself hoping he was going to address what just happened.

I waited to see if he was going to say anything. A day, or maybe several passed with both of us pretending everything was normal.

One day, when he wasn't home, I decided to go to a place I knew had folders with files on everyone, on everything a person is, and isn't; files containing the essence of their being, and all alterations of the soul, that society made happen. It was a big office building of sorts. In those offices there were cabinets filled with such folders. This was where I was going to find everything there was to know about him, about his being.

I entered a dark office, opened a cabinet, and looked for the folder that had his name on it. When I found it, I double-checked to make sure it was his folder. It had his name written on it, A.M. I took it, held it close to my chest, and got out of there before anyone could see me.

It was raining outside, and I was making my way through a busy market. I was impatient thinking of the contents of that folder. I started contemplating ringing my ex-boyfriend hoping for advice. I was playing a conversation with him in my mind, going through possible scenarios. As I was thinking about sharing the contents of A.'s folder with my ex, I realised the folder I was holding had my name on it. I was sure the folder I took out of that cabinet had A.'s name on it, but somehow the name had changed from A.M. to T.C. How did that happen? I was now revisiting every step I took when I entered that office. I was going over every little thing in my memory, revisiting every single detail of how I went searching through the cabinets looking for his folder, how upon finding it, I double and triple checked it had his name on it. How could now, all of a sudden that folder have my name on it?

***

What am I to make of this dream? What do you want me to make of it? What should I make of it?

All there is to see in your folder is the same as all there is to see in my folder? All there is to know about you, is all there is to know about myself? 

Lobster Symbolism - Soulmates

(~2019)

I write rarely. This isn't because I have nothing to say, but because I find it very difficult to get all of this out of me.

A dream pops up. One I had recently.

It was nighttime - as usual. I was crossing a stone bridge. I was with S.. I think we were holding hands. I was apologizing to her. I felt guilty for her experience that night. I felt guilty, because I lived through it all before. I lived through exactly that, long before I even met her. This time around though, I never lost her from my sight. Apologizing to her felt both right, and wrong at the same time. I did my best in that circumstance, but I still feared my best was not enough.

In the next sequence of my dream, I was on a busy street. It was a beautiful, but rather stereotypical urban landscape. It seemed to be morning now. Around this time in my life, this was one of the few dreams set in a light filled environment. The street I was on was crowded with shops, and restaurants. I ended up in what looked like a tiny East Asian restaurant. I felt the restaurant was one of those hidden gems. I went to the counter wanting to order something to eat. Behind the counter was a man who seemed to wear an apron - the owner maybe. He was standing on a chair, facing away from me. He seemed busy with a cupboard opposite the counter. I was unsure if he was rummaging or reordering. His actions felt both purposeful and chaotic at the same time. All of a sudden, a pile of lobsters spilled from the cupboard just above the counter, landing right in front of me. Last thing I remember was the golden morning light falling over them.

I woke up. 

Your House is My House

(~2019)

You were oblivious, weren't you? As far as my soul and consciousness were concerned, you had to be in on it all. At least to some degree. My brain couldn't compute you were seeing me for the first time in your life.

How could I compute such a thing, when you pretty much altered the trajectory of my life, before I even met you? How wild is that? I won't forget that it was because of you that I came to discover aspects of my sexuality. It was because of the man from this dream I had as a teenager. Who would have dared to imagine I was going to meet you, and experience those exact circumstances? I remember this feeling I had, after I had that dream. I felt you were the man I never knew I wanted. Everything you seemed to be was such a perfect fit for every desire I ever had. So yeah, I may have acted too close for comfort, because I couldn't compute.

I remember this dream I had some time after we met. I felt and knew I was in your house. It was a very big house, with a beautiful minimalistic interior. Somehow I had this inner knowing that your house is my house. I also knew you knew, your house is my house. For a little while, I thought I was delusional that you knew your house was my house; a man who was wandering around, and seemed to be a friend of yours confirmed you knew I was there, that I was free to roam there, and that you agreed your house is my house.

I had this vague feeling you didn't like it that I was in your house, but there was nothing you could do about it either.

You were in a different part of the house, and I started roaming around. Maybe I went looking for you, or maybe I was just walking around the house.

I found you in a large room, like a classroom of sorts with several massage tables facing a blackboard. I think you were receiving a massage. I was writing on the blackboard. It felt like I was teaching something, but I didn't really care if anyone was learning, or even listening for that matter. I was just sharing the material I had.

I remember you feeling angry. You didn't like it that I was there. It felt like 'fine, if I had to be in your house, couldn't I, at the very least, not be in the same room as you?'. The audacity. You didn't throw me out, but chose to leave the room. You couldn't throw me out. That's was the thing. I distinctly felt that you couldn't throw me out, because your house is my house.

Disclaimer: This website reflects my personal memories, perceptions, and interpretations of past events. All names and identifying details have been changed. Its purpose is healing, coherence, and self-expression - not accusation or defamation.

Other Dreams with Elements that Later Became a Part of Reality

Because of how vivid they are, the memories of the experiences I have in my dreams, seem to be like almost any other memory of events I experienced in my awake state. They really do feel like full blown experiences. Sometimes my dreams are vivid, and intense enough that I remember, and am ready to recount them at any moment. Other times, it's a matter of the memory of the experiences I had in my dreams being triggered into my awareness.

A frequent theme in my dreams was the theme of war. I am offering their account because elements in them did become a part of my reality, and in trying to show consciousness as potentially connected to the collective field. I am however asking the reader to keep in mind that in my view they couldn't be more than probabilities, rather than predeterminations. I believe the probabilistic, and not deterministic nature of such dreams can be observed in the dream with three versions of outcomes that shattered my perception of reality prior to my spiritual experience.

Such dreams carried throughout my life. They very much have the same vibe as my other precognitive dreams. As a result of these dreams, I feel I had the horrifying experience of war many times over. There are some dreams, where for example I dream of a sequence of events, and years later I dream of the exact previous, or exact following sequence of events. The fact that I believe these dreams to be precognitive in nature, it doesn't mean they will happen, but it also doesn't mean they won't. I believe that whether they do, or don't is dependent on the state and condition of collective consciousness. 

I experience all of my dreams through my then years old consciousness, and they are, but snippets of a brief moment in time. For this reason, I can't speak on the wider context, and only of things I am triggered to think of, or feel during my dream.

I remember a dream I had as a kid/teen. I was in a large group of people. It seemed we were prisoners. Some of us were wearing striped prisoner-like outfits, while others only had rugged clothes on them. We seemed to be traversing what seemed to have once been a town. All buildings were severely damaged, and the place seemed to be deserted. There were no other people around, aside from this large group of people I was in. I felt as if we were moving from one location to another. Me, and others around me were talking. Someone was saying that since we weren't accompanied by any soldiers, maybe this was our chance to escape. There were no soldiers around us, we had no shackles, or something like that, and no one seemed to be supervising us. Someone else, or maybe me, said that it was very possible they were watching us, and it could be a suicidal mission. There was this sense that it was something similar to an unmanned airplane, that wasn't an airplane, and that we could have been watched, or shot at from somewhere above. We didn't really know if we were being watched, but we knew it was a common occurrence for those types of things to happen. We seemed to just comply with orders, and we were going from place to place seemingly by ourselves, with no one getting out of line, out of fear. There seemed to be nowhere to run to, or hide anyway. I had no awareness of drones at the time. I feel my lack of awareness of drones is obvious based on my then consciousness' understanding of how they could watch and shoot at us, despite there being no soldiers around. I have no idea who 'they' were.

I have a rather vivid memory of the one below as well. While no elements contained in this one manifested into my awake reality, I find this one interesting, because it was the next sequence in a series of 3 dreams of the same exact circumstance. I don't have vivid memories of either of the other sequences, but I know their order wasn't chronological - as an example sequence 2, sequence 1, sequence 3. The dreams themselves were spaced years apart, and during the dream of any particular sequence I become aware of the dream I had with the previous or following sequence. 

In some of these dreams where war was featured, I saw myself being taken out of my home, usually in the middle of the night, and forced to move to a different location. In one I had in the past few years, I was with my entire family in an apartment, other than our home. We were all together, me, my brother, and my parents. I remember how as I was dreaming, I was trying to work out how that could happen, as while I had been living with my parents, my brother wasn't. We were in an apartment smaller than our own, but still decently sized for all of us. It was a one bedroom apartment. It was modest, but had all amenities, and everything we needed to live in relative comfort. We had no access to internet, phones, or tv. All forms of communication, and entertainment were cut off. We weren't allowed to go outside. I had some awareness of food being brought to our door regularly. [As I am writing this, I actually remember another dream where I saw food being brought to us, while we were in that apartment]. I remember, thinking of the people who used to live there, wondering where they were, thinking they must have missed their home, just like we did. They were made to move out of their home, just like we were. I was feeling sad. I was aware - I had a similar awareness in other dreams too - we had all been relocated, although it was unclear why. When they came, and took us out of our homes, we imagined the worst - that we were going to die, but they put us in a decent place, much more decent than we were expecting, or imagining. It felt peculiar, and we didn't understand the purpose of it. Since we started living there, which seemed like a decent amount of time - months - life had been eerily quiet. I remember feeling really bored, and missing the sources of entertainment we used to have before. I started observing a dead bug on the floor. There was nothing else to occupy my time with. I was thinking how despite the fact that life was uncertain, we were trying to make the best of it. We seemed to have settled there, and had grown accustomed to the pain of our lives being uprooted. I remember observing how weird it was that we were just going about life as usual, making casual conversation about what were in essence unimportant, and frivolous things. I was thinking that even if they didn't say it, my parents, and my brother had to have been just as terrified as I was. I don't remember us talking about how horrible what was going on was. I think we were thankful we were alive, that we had a place to live, food to eat, and we were together. I also remember thinking of A.. I was wondering if the war had only started here in Romania, or if it started where he was too. I had no idea. I remember, how at one point, we were ordered, through a speaker probably, to all sit down in our homes. I remember finding it weird that no one came to our now home to tell us to sit down, but I remember complying with the order. I was scared. That kind of thing hadn't happened since we started living there. We were in the kitchen when the order was heard. Me, my parents, and my brother sat around the table. My brother reached for the fridge, at which point, a gunshot, and screaming was heard from outside. For some reason I felt, and believed they must be shooting through windows at those who weren't sat down. I remember not understanding how they could see into our homes. I didn't know if they really could, or if they were just shooting at random. I remember I started crying, begging my brother to sit down. We were in what was, I believe, an 'O', or maybe 'U' shaped building with an inner courtyard. I remember observing through the kitchen window an armed soldier stood in a balcony, at a higher level, in the wing adjacent to the one we were in. He was holding a rifle, and seemed to be ready to shoot. I imagined there were probably soldiers in every wing of that building.

The one above, I had in recent years. I also had others, where I was remembering parts of my experience with A. which have already happened.

In this dream, I was living in what seemed to be a student dorm. I was forced to live there, alongside many other people I didn't know before, after it seemed that a war of sorts erupted. Despite everything, we were going about our life, as well as we could in those circumstances, and life seemed relatively quiet those days. My brother seemed to be in the same dorm. At one point, some agitation started going on in the dorm. I didn't understand what was happening exactly, but I think I heard someone around me say that soldiers were roaming the building. I hadn't seen any soldiers, but I understood from other people, we were supposed to head towards the exit. I wondered where my brother was, as I couldn't see him. I feared for his safety, and wanted to go looking for him. There was a lot of confusion going around, and people were scared. Out of fear, I started heading towards the exit. I was going down the main stairs of the dorm. As I was going down those stairs, I started worrying about them finding my emails towards A., a Muslim man I had shown affection to. I worried about what it meant for me. I don't know what year it was during the events happening in my dream, but I had the awareness of having stopped writing to A. in 2017. I worried about what it meant for me, because I was also aware they were persecuting Muslim people Nazi Germany style. The level of persecution was disturbing enough for me to feel worried about having had ties and shown affection to A. I also remember worrying about rape as I was going down the stairs going towards the exit. As I was approaching the exit, I saw a soldier guarding it. He was of East Asian ethnicity, and he was wearing an olive coloured uniform.

I, actually remembered this dream in 2017, as I was pondering to stop writing to him, and the memory of this dream had me write to him again that year. I clearly am a daredevil if you must know, plus I don't live my life taking these dreams as a given. 

I had many war related dreams, and the way the war starts changes. It usually happens during the night, and is from what I can remember, is always a completely unexpected disruption of an otherwise mundane life. In one of these dreams, because I am aware of all the dreams with this theme I had throughout my life, I jumped out of my third floor window. I remember looking down, putting in balance the pros and cons of me jumping, as I heard them barge into my home. I knew they were about to come, as I had already heard them barge into other apartments in the building.

I remember the crippling fear in all of these dreams.