Two strange dreams last night. Oddly enough, I had not taken any melatonin, which can certainly cause some deeply surreal dreams. Nor did I listen to any paranormal podcast or Coast to Coast, which I often do when in bed. The subconscious works in its own language for sure.
At night, a couple dozen people. Some kind of party -- more like a celebration, or an observance of something. A rite, an homage, a recognition. We either eat or drink something psychedelic. Not exactly that; more like this substance enhances in a way what’s already within. There is a beach ball sized globe, or orb, solid, physical but also made of light. Hard to explain. It’s a light blue color. We pass it around, balance it, play with it. Dance with it.
Someone has the orb now. There is a deep and intense connection here between me/this someone and the orb. Everyone else stands back. They know the orb has chosen its person.
The person is in rapture. Holds onto the orb, talks in tongues, falls down onto the ground. On his back, this person is holding up the orb, signing, talking in a strange language. Purple lights appear and swirl around him. Then he turns into a violet reptilian type being, with huge black eyes. I lean into this being and stare into those eyes. Nothing on this earth has ever been as black as the black of its eyes. Huge deep glossy black eyes.
There is nothing malevolent about this but it is terribly profound. True awe. I cannot believe this blackness, this never ending sea of dark. I am sort of screaming out about this -- wanting others to look, to pay attention to this. These eyes, this black it’s so damn important!
In the dream, I tell myself I have to remember this and write it down right away. The urgency is vibrating, I must get this down! I’m writing this dream down and Jim comes in to talk to me about something. I tell him to go away, I have to get this dream down immediately! Later, I tell him about the dream. And then it starts over again: the violet, the purple, the huge black eyes, the reptilian, the blue orb, the chanting and dancing . . .
Same night, different dream:
I’m in an empty room on the tenth floor of a building -- office building? -- built in the 1950s, maybe 1940s. dingy, frayed carpets, not many people about. I don’t know why I’m here. I look down into the street. Thousands of people, literally nose to nose. No room to move. Yet move they do. Crawling, scrambling, shoving, climbing on each others. Violence. People fighting. Something bout gas. Some force is stealing gas. I stay up here because I sure as hell don’t want any of that! A few people come into the building but they stay on the first few floors. Once they realize it’s an empty building (except for me or a few others in the upper floors) they leave.
After a few hours of this madness, two gigantic mothership UFOs appear overhead. They lift up two huge silver domes. Domes that have been covering the city. The aliens or beings or whoever, whatever, they are, put the domes in place to disguise their presence while they sucked up all the gasoline in the city. Once they filled their own tanks, they lifted the domes and left. Once they left, everyone was back to normal. No memory of what just happened.
This second dream doesn't make much sense to me, since, on the west coast, a lack of gasoline has not been an issue.
