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Thread: Dream On

  1. #16
    Senior Member Emil El Zapato's Avatar
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    I'm waiting for a dream revelation to decide if I should invest in the Stars Academy...
    “El revolucionario: te meteré la bota en el culo"

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  3. #17
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    Back Atcha, Elen.

    Quote Originally posted by NotAPretender View Post
    I'm waiting for a dream revelation to decide if I should invest in the Stars Academy...
    That made me laugh. I often have interesting dreams involving stars but that's been since before I heard of Tom's endeavors. There's an actual retail store in San Diego which I might visit. Get a t-shirt/hat. Maybe they have dice and beer mugs...


    (that was in reference to the SBA swag. weirdly nostalgic to joke about it)

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  5. #18
    Senior Member Emil El Zapato's Avatar
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    Quote Originally posted by Dreamtimer View Post
    Back Atcha, Elen.



    That made me laugh. I often have interesting dreams involving stars but that's been since before I heard of Tom's endeavors. There's an actual retail store in San Diego which I might visit. Get a t-shirt/hat. Maybe they have dice and beer mugs...
    Nothing wrong with that idea...
    “El revolucionario: te meteré la bota en el culo"

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  7. #19
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    Some more dream perspectives. Miguel has quite an interesting voice and introduction.


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  9. #20
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    This guy was an artist and draws things from his dreams. They also discuss tarot, origins of cards, and more.


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  11. #21
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    I was going to bump this thread yesterday, but didn't really have anything to add apart from to offhandedly say there's been quite a few dreams lately that have been interesting, bordering on profound.
    You are right, interesting voice to the point I can't listen to it.
    Second guy, I listened for a while but pulled the pin once the tarot got dwelt on.
    I wish I could get a bit more disciplined and write stuff down.
    Think I had some form of lucid dream the other week where I was absolutely certain it was real and went about trying to prove it within the dream, even though knowing certain things about the likelihood of it made it impossible, I was still trying to prove reality wrong or work out how I had forgotten a certain thing had happened in reality. When in reality, it actually hadn't happened, and I was merely dropping back into a part 2 of a long forgotten dream.

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    ...um, most of my dreams have been pretty pedestrian. No Blue Chickens, no alien spaceships, no revelations, I can’t even get my beloved dead cat to visit me.

    ...feeling kinda left out...

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  15. #23
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    You could do a dream incubation centered on your cat. I personally believe that the dreams come which we need. It's up to us to incorporate them. It's not necessary, imo, to recall them. That's where, in my experience, instincts come in to play.

    Instincts are quite often spurred by things seen in dreams. Like deja vu.

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  17. #24
    Senior Member Emil El Zapato's Avatar
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    Quote Originally posted by Dumpster Diver View Post
    ...um, most of my dreams have been pretty pedestrian. No Blue Chickens, no alien spaceships, no revelations, I can’t even get my beloved dead cat to visit me.

    ...feeling kinda left out...
    Do you ever dream about your cat...I have a friend that died a few years ago. I often hang out with him and even have discussions about how he's dead...he's ok with that.
    “El revolucionario: te meteré la bota en el culo"

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  19. #25
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    Quote Originally posted by NotAPretender View Post
    Do you ever dream about your cat...I have a friend that died a few years ago. I often hang out with him and even have discussions about how he's dead...he's ok with that.
    Nope, no Ginger (my cat) in my dreams...now Catwoman is another matter.

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  21. #26
    Senior Member Emil El Zapato's Avatar
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    “El revolucionario: te meteré la bota en el culo"

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  23. #27
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    It was very tense. Something had happened to make Papa and Rangi so resigned to the steps they were taking. Which seemed more and more, to be an intervention of some form.

    They were very serious in their movements, and the accusations which lay before the son and daughter were unmistakable. This was it. This was the ultimatum of which many would have thought could never come.

    This was a casting off of the children, a disowning almost, but in such a way, it was also a final acknowledgement of responsibility. A scene of destined sorrow tracing the outline of a moment of regret in what must be, the forcing of consequences.

    Almost with embarrassment the words unfolded, an awkwardness in that the children had seemed to have reached an age, in which these punishments ought to be obsolete.
    Something certainly had happened, a change, a milestone perhaps? Something to have tipped the scales, into a finality which seemed to have now left everything cold and silent.

    Now, some many miles away, some time later, people were gathered upon the hill where the past had seen a few such gatherings before. Sometimes in joy and festival, and sometimes in much worse circumstances, when bodies had been stacked in isolation, and hope felt to have left.

    This time was like somewhere between. A gathering of lost hopes upon the hill of bitter memories. Many hours before there had been moments of activity, moments where some felt a plan could be hatched. Explorations of steps leading underground thwarted by dead ends.

    There it was received by all, a message the thing which they seek to hide from can not be hidden from, and it can not be protected against. The realisation began to sink in with growing comprehension. This was it.

    The scene therefore, had become somewhat tranquil. More like some of the tired after moments of the now quickly forgotten festivities.
    People sat in small groups, as if they were picnicking rather than panicking. Some soberly sipped away at their soberness.

    Amongst them walked a woman, with long straight hair poking out from beneath a shawl, her hands resting on many shoulder as she moved with an intriguing grace through the groups gathered around the hillside.
    The tattoo on her chin made the moment one of realisation. Sent by the mother and the father, here stood the princess of the people, in her long forgotten fashion, a visitor from the past, of course it was, it was her hill after all.

    In such times, things which seemed impossible quickly seem appropriate and expected. The comfort coming from her presence was unmistakeable. So many who had been spending time and energy in various modes of panic and plotting ways of escape, now joined those seating.
    For some it was a time for silence, while others had begun singing. It was this, if anything, that was going to save them, but not in any perceivable way, perceiving what was soon to happen was of no help.

    The answer would come later, after it was all past, and the scores counted. By which time, those who would care for the results would have lost, and the winners would have hardly even realised there were ever any stakes.

    Sept 4 2010
    Last edited by enjoy being, 10th March 2018 at 09:53.

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  25. #28
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    This is from August of last year and is about dreaming for healing and romance. It's Robert talking with Kelly sullivan Walden.

    Quote Originally posted by Nothing View Post
    It was very tense. Something had happened to make Papa and Rangi so resigned to the steps they were taking. Which seemed more and more, to be an intervention of some form.

    They were very serious in their movements, and the accusations which lay before the son and daughter were unmistakable. This was it. This was the ultimatum of which many would have thought could never come.

    This was a casting off of the children, a disowning almost, but in such a way, it was also a final acknowledgement of responsibility. A scene of destined sorrow tracing the outline of a moment of regret in what must be, the forcing of consequences.

    Almost with embarrassment the words unfolded, an awkwardness in that the children had seemed to have reached an age, in which these punishments ought to be obsolete.
    Something certainly had happened, a change, a milestone perhaps? Something to have tipped the scales, into a finality which seemed to have now left everything cold and silent.

    Now, some many miles away, some time later, people were gathered upon the hill where the past had seen a few such gatherings before. Sometimes in joy and festival, and sometimes in much worse circumstances, when bodies had been stacked in isolation, and hope felt to have left.

    This time was like somewhere between. A gathering of lost hopes upon the hill of bitter memories. Many hours before there had been moments of activity, moments where some felt a plan could be hatched. Explorations of steps leading underground thwarted by dead ends.

    There it was received by all, a message the thing which they seek to hide from can not be hidden from, and it can not be protected against. The realisation began to sink in with growing comprehension. This was it.

    The scene therefore, had become somewhat tranquil. More like some of the tired after moments of the now quickly forgotten festivities.
    People sat in small groups, as if they were picnicking rather than panicking. Some soberly sipped away at their soberness.

    Amongst them walked a woman, with long straight hair poking out from beneath a shawl, her hands resting on many shoulder as she moved with an intriguing grace through the groups gathered around the hillside.
    The tattoo on her chin made the moment one of realisation. Sent by the mother and the father, here stood the princess of the people, in her long forgotten fashion, a visitor from the past, of course it was, it was her hill after all.

    In such times, things which seemed impossible quickly seem appropriate and expected. The comfort coming from her presence was unmistakeable. So many who had been spending time and energy in various modes of panic and plotting ways of escape, now joined those seating.
    For some it was a time for silence, while others had begun singing. It was this, if anything, that was going to save them, but not in any perceivable way, perceiving what was soon to happen was of no help.

    The answer would come later, after it was all past, and the scores counted. By which time, those who would care for the results would have lost, and the winners would have hardly even realised there were ever any stakes.

    Sept 4 2010
    Is this your writing? Is the woman a dreamer?

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  27. #29
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    Quote Originally posted by Dreamtimer View Post
    This is from August of last year and is about dreaming for healing and romance. It's Robert talking with Kelly sullivan Walden.



    Is this your writing? Is the woman a dreamer?
    Hi Dreamtimer. This is my writing yes, and it is one of my dreams from the date included. The date of the first large earthquake in Christchurch NZ. There was an argument in the first stage, I took it as being between Rangi and Papa who are Father Sky and Mother Earth.
    In the second stage as described were the events. Some sort of disaster had happened and people were gathered in the place described, sort of as refugees. Some were trying to hide. A message was passed on that something was coming in "3". It was described as something you could not escape from, like a line of fire. An invisible line of fire, a laser, a vaporising wall of electricity. That sort of thing.
    I woke up, got up feeling very disturbed by the dream, knowing it was of THOSE sorts of dreams, the ones which have some kind of prescience to them. I walked out into the living area, feeling almost like I was either still asleep or the dream was real. I turned on the computer and very quickly found that at around 4.30 am there had been an destructive earthquake in Christchurch.
    The woman, I am quite sure, was Princess Tepuea Herangi.

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  29. #30
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    There is a new show on Amazon: Falling Water.

    It’s about interlocking dreams. Is anyone watching it? Dreamy?

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