Category: Dreams

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All I had to do was remember that five digit number when I woke up. If I did, then something truly amazing was going to happen to me or my family or the world civilization maybe even the whole universe.

What this truly amazing something was, I can no longer remember. All that mattered was that I memorize the five digit number no matter what.

I kept on repeating the five digits over and over again. I had to make sure that by repeating it enough times, I could not possibly forget it.

In my excitement, I could feel the number slowly but surely fading away. I repeated the number out loud, louder and louder until I was shouting. Please do not let me forget it, please.

Of course when I woke up I forgot the number. Don't all dreams end that why?

However, I did remember very clearly that it was a "five digit" number, and I'm pretty sure now that it started with a two followed by a five. Though if I had to bet my life on it, I cannot be a hundred percent sure.

Too bad, no truly amazing something this time around. Will give it another try the next time and figure out a better trick to remember.

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I never knew before what it was really like to perish this way, but now I know for sure. I'm on my hands and knees in some kind of ditch, and there are a couple other people next to me. There is this overall feeling of a pending doom, and the faces of the other people describe the fear that I am feeling inside. The ditch is maybe twenty yards long, and if we can move across the narrow ditch fast enough, we might make it in time. Suddenly, there is this rumble behind us. As the ground starts to shake more and more, we realize that some kind of giant bulldozer is approaching us quickly. Then without warning, this wave of darkness curls over me, the sky on the distant horizon gets filled in. First in my hair, then my shoulders and the rest of my body get covered, as tons of dirt fall on top of me. It's a lot heavier than what I had expected, and it is the weight of the dirt on top of my chest that prevents me from breathing, not the lack of air. When there is no longer a single ray of light, all sounds get muffled and then disappear, and I just wait while it gets colder and colder.

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So it turns out that my wife has won the national lottery. No less than thirty-one million euros. She's been buying lottery tickets since I've known her, and finally it has been worth the effort. Thirty-one million euros, and that's a lot of money. Unfortunately it has transformed my wonderful wife from a fun-loving beautiful person into a hateful greedy monster. And she's got me under her evil control.

It all started the day afterwards, when my wife insisted that we rush to the nearest bank first thing in the morning and withdraw the full amount in cash. All in one go. Didn't make sense to me, but she was very eager to have it in her hands. Before anyone found out, we had to hurry and then hide it away some place safe.

I had this old cardboard box with the bottom falling out, and we dumped all of the money in it. There were a couple of big cloth bags of change and it weighed a ton, as well as stacks of bills. The bottom of the box kept falling open, with the bills and change spilling out onto the mall floor. The bills were being blown away by the breeze and the coins were rolling every which way. People stared at us, but for some reason no one noticed that I had thirty-one million euros in that box.

My wife was a greedy witch and I was her slave, tagging along hurriedly at her side carrying the treasure. She rushed towards the exit and I had a hard time keeping up with her. Hurry up before anyone finds out. The box was very heavy and the muscles of my arms were strained to the limit, the box bottom kept opening up no matter how hard I tried to keep it closed. Coins and bills scattered in my wake and people started to notice. Quick, we got to get away.

Then my wife noticed that there was this big sale at a clothing store to the left. She had to rush inside and take a look. Always brainwashed by those sales: thirty percent off, everything half price. She told me just to put the box down on the ground in front of the store window, we could pick it up later on our way out. This is crazy, I thought. Anyone could just walk by and steal the thirty-one million euros and it would be gone forever. My wife has become completely crazy and I must save her.

I decided to play a trick on her, the greedy evil woman. When she walked into the store, I took the money out of the box and stuffed it all in my pockets and inside of my jacket. When she came out I pointed to the empty box and started blaming her for her carelessness. See what you caused, someone has stolen all our prize money, how stupid of you. There was shock in her eyes, a flash and some sparks, and I was prepared for her to explode in angry tirades and lash out at me. That's when the miracle occurred: she transformed back into the beautiful loving woman I used to know and care for. A good enough time as any to wake up and return to reality.

This might have been a really weird dream, but underneath there is much truth in it. My wife has asked me in the past what I'd do if I won the lottery. My answer is always the same: I'd give it all away as quickly as I could. I do not believe in winning so much money for doing nothing, while there is so much pain and suffering in the rest of the world. So much money for nothing is evil, unethical, and against nature's ways. My wife is also very careless and loses everything. I also like to play mean tricks on her to teach her a lesson. We joke about how much she's into sales and buying things on discount all the time. Whenever I compliment her on her nice new outfit, the first thing she tells me is that it was seventy percent off.

My greatest fear is that with so much money the family will be torn apart by greediness, and forsake our love for each other by immersing ourselves in a mad frenzy of buying fancy objects. In the end, I am glad we did not win the lottery and it was all just a stupid dream.

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So then we are looking around, and then what? There is a lot to discover out there, but then one wonders which way, and then what?

When you think about it logically, the best way is more than obvious. Logically that is, at least. Let's proceed and see what happens.

But then again, in terms of creativity and following what feels best from inside, we should turn left instead of turning right. Or even taking a couple steps backward before proceeding again.

In then end, looking back on the way we made it to this point in the first place is what it is all about, nothing more.

Looking-around.png
Driving home.

Back in the good old days I had other expectations of how things would eventually turn out, but of course life is unpredictable and things have turned out much differently. Completely differently. Too much differently than I could have ever expected.

Nothing more, really ...

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There is that last fleeting moment right before you fall asleep when your mind empties of all thought and is replaced by nothing.

The next thing you realize is that it is the next day just one minute before the alarm is about to go off.

You wonder how that's possible, whether it is just a coincidence, something which can be explained by thorough scientific investigation, or simply some intuitive twist of the subconscious mind which is trying to trick you.

In the meantime, you have completely forgotten that last moment right before you fall asleep when your mind empties and all thought becomes nothing.

The next time you go to bed and wait long enough, you will remember it again, just a fleeting instant before the alarm is about to go off, that same cycle.

The repeating cycle that defines the fine line between what you think you are doing when awake and what you think you are dreaming when asleep.

Then you wake up and realize that all of the above was simply stuff you had been thinking within a strangely convoluted dream.

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The skin all over my body was covered with small pins sticking into it, some going straight in and others at a more obtuse angle so that the sharp points came out the other side.

The process of extracting them was painful and time consuming, but the most frustrating thing was that for every pin I took out a bunch of others appeared elsewhere.

When I tried to ignore them I kept inadvertently bumping edges of tables, door knobs and various other objects which made the pain even worse.

People around me seemed to accept this as some kind of known disease and they all treated me very politely. I knew that underneath they felt very sorry for me, but this prevented them from coming close or taking me seriously.

When the opportunities arose I would sneak into the bathroom or behind a tree and continue trying to extract these awful pins hastily, but it was to no avail.

Maybe that is why I am having a rough time finding work.
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Had a dream that I missed my tee shot after waiting forever for the slow-poke goof-balls ahead of us to finally get out of range. In anger I took out a second ball tossed it into the air and swung at it wildly with my driver.

I somehow managed to connect with the ball and hit it way out there, about a hundred and fifty yards right down the middle of the fairway.

The only problem was that it hit the spot where the shaft meets the head causing an ugly cracked dent to appear. That's going to cost me a ton.

Fortunately this was just a dream, a nice warning I guess.
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I'd never known that it was possible to get an aneurysm of the elbow.

They surrounded me and then made me lie down motionless fearing that the slightest movement would cause it to burst. The ambulance would arrive soon, so please lie patiently, and whatever you do do not move!

My will power could define life or death, meaning that a quick flinch of my arm and then it would be all over. Or then I could choose life in the hopes that after the doctors had saved me I wouldn't be a vegetable the rest of my life.

Which should I choose?

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Surely it was not only an honor but a pleasant surprise as well. Who could have ever imagined that I'd be invited to the Queen's birthday?

One can therefore imagine how nervous I felt when the palace door opened and she appeared no more than ten feet away. The one and only Queen Beatrix! She nodded to the crowd and then proceeded up the aisle towards me, shaking each and every hand along the way.

All of sudden she was standing right in front of me. Her famous smile turned into a frown. Her gaze was hard and true. She spoke out angrily so that everyone could hear, "Next time you will have to brush your teeth better, they are awfully brown. Please do something about it."

I had let down the queen.

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In my dream I rolled over in bed and glanced at the digital alarm clock, seeing that it was ten fifteen and time to get up - don't want to waste a good Saturday by slumbering the time away.

That's when I woke up, rolled over in bed and saw the digital alarm clock snapping from ten fifteen to ten sixteen, deja vu style.

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I come home after a long day of work, feeling tired. My wife has a surprise for me. Alright, what kind of surprise could it be? There on the table is a cardboard box and I have to open it, at least that is what my wife wants me to do, all smiling and giggling about things. So when I open it I discover that there is a baby girl inside (oh dear), very cute and adorable, I had always wanted a fifth child but really, this is something I hadn't really expected. But still, life goes on, try to adapt. My wife has to apologize to me, almost in tears, her pregnancy kept hidden because she was so afraid I would get mad at her. Why would I get mad? I would have never minded if I had known about it in advance. How is this possible? I feel angry, frustrated, like nobody understands how I feel or react to the situation, but at the same time I am happy. When I pick up the beautiful child she feels soft, smells clean, and fits into the world as I have envisioned that it should be. A wonder, something that has come to be, and then life goes on as usual. What next?

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As things turned out it was to be a trip around the world and when I left I had loads of luggage about ten big heavy bags at least.

After each stop I lost one item of luggage but had to hastily catch the next flight, boat, train or whatever.

In the haste I inevitably lost yet another piece of luggage, but the continuation of the trip took priority meaning that I had to continue with one less item or else.

By the end of this frustrating journey I had but two pieces of luggage left over from the original pile of important items, and even then during the last leg of the journey yet another vital piece was misplaced and or lost.

When I finally arrived back home, I felt relieved not only to be back home in familiar territory but also to be released from all that extra baggage that had been weighting me down.

Finally back home and time to start all over again.

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Why on earth I was made to attend the Stanford summer school and take a course on Dutch history given in Dutch was beyond me. I felt happy to be back in familiar territory but was not very keen on struggling through difficult material in Dutch of all languages.

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I walked up the stairs and saw him standing there.

"Hey Lennart, what are you doing here? I thought you were living in LA."

"Yeah, well I just figured I'd drop by and check out the new room you had setup for me when I get back. Just curious is all."

When I turned around again he had disappeared and I felt bad that I hadn't talked with him a little longer.

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As it turns out, he wasn't that big bad war hero at all who we had always taken for granted and was based on all those stories which were never told because they were just too painful to discuss. Even if as kids we kept begging him please please tell us more about what had happened, the time you landed on the beach and all those dead and blown-up bodies lying all over the place, what was it like? As far as we were concerned it never happened in the first place, but being part of the family wanting to believe that that was the way it had happened no matter what. Or were we the ones making things up, filling in the gaps and making things up in order to make sense of the way the soldier was or ended up being? In the end it turned out to be a sad case that lead us on, but led us on nonetheless. So it must have meant something in the end, we following as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.

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There was this yelling and cussing and everyone seemed to be hollering at each other without regarding the true condition of the situation in which this sea of voices had unknowingly found itself.

There was this subtle unawareness smothered underneath frustrations and fear and a sharpened readiness to jump at anyone who dared.

There was this inner animalistic attitude that though providing an endless source of energy required for such bizarre and unrestrained motions of flailing arms and legs held each individual firmly in place preventing unnecessary bodily harm.

There was this erratic mindfulness that somehow kept everything in check as if even the slightest imbalance would cause the whole scene to dissolve into nothingness.

There was this.

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There's nothing more exciting in the world than discovering the solution to all human suffering. Not only that but also the fact that because of this historic discovery you will be the richest person on the planet for the rest of your life.

Too bad that when you wake up you forget the solution almost immediately. What a terrible loss to humanity, that's for sure.

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The house in which you are staying is crooked and ready to fall apart with the slightest touch. The wooden floor is tilted and the stairway creaks when you walk upstairs. Each storey higher is tilted even more, and when you walk over to the edge to look out the window, the house sways slightly with each and every step you take. You can feel the unnerving vibrations beneath your feet. Better stay in the center of the room just in case. There's no way you would dare ascend the attic. The bed that you have to sleep in is also slanted to one side and when you lie down it creaks and breaks off. Often objects break off when you touch them or just look at them or just glance in the general direction is all that is needed. These are the drawers which collapse to the floor, here is the door knob that breaks off, over there the bookshelf that tips over, and in the bathroom the sink that cracks open and the shower curtains which rip and tear. You trip over the mess on the floor and the landlord gets all mad and raving at you because you have broken yet another one of his prized possessions. Shame on you! So why does he leave it on the floor or on the stairs in the first place then? This is not important! Even if you are very careful, you inevitably break something else, and the house wavers even more, those terrible vibrations getting more and more powerful...

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I've heard that it does happen to some people once in awhile, but I never expected this terrifying experience to happen to me. Though I can ever so slightly remember similar numbness when I was around ten years old, but nothing as intense as this fleeting episode in the wavering darkness.

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While we were getting our house rebuilt, the queen had invited the whole family to stay over at her palace for a couple weeks.

Before I had met her I had despised her as a stuck up pompous person, but during our stay she turned out to be a very cordial and personable hostess.

I also discovered that she was a very intelligent and wise person who through long discussion in front of the royal fireplace made me feel much better about myself and life in general.

When the house was completed and we returned to live in our humble abode, I became a fanatic fan of the royal family, hung up posters and flags all over the place, and taped every single television and radio program on which the queen appeared.

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Whatever it was, the thoughts and emotions had been building up inside of me for years. Hidden experiences and awful secrets that I had not dared to reveal. Not until now for some reason.

It just all came out with crying and angry words of despair.

What these thoughts were exactly at the time is not clear to me. However, the emotions of tragedy were very believable. Even in the waking state they bite strongly within me. But are they real, were they real?

I believe that this has something to do with the recent sixty year commemeration of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp. Something on the television, some collective remorse.

Some unconscious element of humanity which is seeded deeply in each and every soul whether we want to admit it or not.

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This is the dream I had.

While shaving in front of the mirror, I noticed a slight blemish on my left cheekbone just below the eye. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that it was a pimple ready to be popped.

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We were all quite surprised when she started acting that way, as if she had been awakened with new magical powers, to do whatever she wanted as if that was all it were about.

I immediately sensed that there was something wrong, but stared in eager anticipation with the rest of the family who were visiting her on her seventy-ninth birthday. Naïve, prepared and unknowing at the very same time.

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So I am really sorry that I kicked you so hard in the knee. But please allow me to explain. There was this little old lady sitting right next to you. She had an over-sized fish bowl balanced ever so precariously on her delicate lap. There were even these exotic multi-colored fish swimming around in circles, all excited and nervous. As the train negotiated the curves, the water sloshed back and forth. When we hit the first slight bump and then the second which was a little bit harder, the bowl tipped over towards my side. The fish bowl and all began to tumble to the floor. That's when I jerked awake so I could catch it just in time. My reflexes caused my leg to fling itself upwards and kick you. Sorry about that, I hope you understand.

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When he went over to the counter to pick up his assignment, he was a little surprised when told that he was expected to take that plump duck over to the restaurant on the third floor of the fancy hotel. About halfway there, he felt the softness and warmness and had second thoughts. He became quite attached to this little creature and felt no need to bring it any further to its near future execution for the big fat bellies of all those chinamen. Detour to the left and the great escape that would take him away into the eons of time. Through this desert and arid countryside, past a longish mountain range, along the coast and then to a cove of water which bent inwards just past the knee. When the tide came in, the water level rose quickly and he discovered that he and his duck friend were trapped on an island in the middle of the sea, no hope in sight. The duck was getting thinner and thinner and would soon die. Luckily the water receded just enough to provide a shallow entry to these caves. Had to feed the duck just had too. Finally, grass and twigs and a bunch of dried leaves, and that duck just wolfed it all down gulping and gagging and nearly choking to death. How ironic that would be when and if the little skinny shrinking duck would just suffocate under its own greed or get such an extended belly that it would explode. Better keep on moving before it is too late, the guy was thinking.

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When I woke early that morning and abruptly sat up straight in bed, I noticed right away what had happened during my sleep. It was all over the place. On the walls and ceiling, puddles of it on the floor, and splatter marks on the windows. How could something like that have ever happened without me waking up? I should have noticed but I didn't. Instead I was sleeping away in a land of nothingness without a single worry in the world. I could barely step across the room to the door without slipping and sliding across that redness, causing streaks and sliding noises. It smelled acrid, rotten and like a distant rose, all at the same time and after one another. Next time I would pay more attention (I hoped) and be sure that even while I slept I would remain alert at the slightest hint of something happening. Didn't want to waste my life away in a land of slumbering nothingness, now did I?

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The C.G. Jung page has been redesigned and it looks really impressive. Just the right balance of colors and graphics that would make even Mr. Jung himself feel very pleased.

Not only is there a good slew of articles and papers, but the discussion forum is also an interesting place to visit.

Among others, you have the following forums from which to choose:

An interesting essay you might like to read is called On Life After Death by C.G. Jung.

Highly recommended, so please visit.

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So good old Christmas is approaching ever so quickly, and I do not know for the life of me what I may wish for when it comes to telling others what gifts they may give me.

To be honest: I am just not in the holiday mood yet is all. Also, I feel like I do not deserve anything, because I have been a bad person (boy).

All of a sudden out of the blue it hits me. I know "exactly" the perfect most fantastic gift idea imaginable. At the same time, I realize that I am sleeping. This is a real shame, because I also realize in this dream that when I wake up I will completely forget what this great gift idea was.

That is how dreams work alot of the time: you wake up and you forget.

In this dream, I take hold of myself. I grab that imaginary dreaming self that only exists in the subconscious state. I take hold of him by his collar, and I hold him ever so tightly. And then I tell him to concentrate and remember, because it is very important that when I wake up I can tell the others what to buy me.

Just remember, remember, you better remember, alright?

When I wake up (you guessed it) I just forgot, plainly and simply forgot. The funny thing is that I can remember every single detail of that dream, even the feeling of having discovered the most perfect gift idea.

Except the most important aspect of all, what that gift actually is, I have completely forgotten. Right at the tip of my tingling fingers of the mind whatever that could be.

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Here I am as a beggar..."Hey I had a weird dream about you last night," Marlies told me this morning when I came down to make my usual coffee and toast.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled while my mind slowly started to wake up.

"I dreamt that you were a beggar," she continued. "You spent whole days in front of the grocery store begging for money."

I grabbed a plate from the cupboard and found the butter.

"Oh, that sounds like an interesting dream." (I wonder what it means.)

So I reached over and grabbed a couple slices of bread, and there was a slight pause as I thought about what Marlies had just told me.

I cleared my throat and asked quite seriously, "Are you sure that was a dream?"

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This is the circle of folks around that guy again...There was this guy again and he was saying that you know what there are a number of things that you should not forget. Whatever you do and whatever happens never ever forget these things that I am about to tell you. Listen carefully, very very carefully and do not speak back while I am explaining it. Be silent and absorb the sounds. When he spoke out loud and listed these number of things verbally in a monotone heavy voice and with a stoic expression and hands turning and arms flailing like subtle and undulating waves atop the ocean of awareness, it made perfect sense. Strange that it could but it did. Although it was not in any language with which any of us were familiar, the movements in time were just right to convey the real meaning to all of us standing there in the circle. Actually the number of things were not multiple nor were they disconnected: they were one and the very same thing. The feeling was that yes we would heed to this wise advise, spread out from this inner circle, return to where we had been, and then continue as if nothing had ever really happened. Off we went knowing in sadness and in happiness that we would never see the man nor any of the others again for as long as we lived.

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Information

This personal weblog was started way back on July 21, 2001 which means that it is 7-21-2001 old.

So far this blog contains no less than 2288 entries and as many as 1877 comments.

Important events

Graduated from Stanford 6-5-1979 ago.

Kiffin Rockwell was shot down and killed 9-23-1916 ago.

Believe it or not but I am 10-11-1957 young.

Began well-balanced and healthy life style 1-8-2013 ago.

My father passed away 10-20-2000 ago.

First met Thea in Balestrand, Norway 6-14-1980 ago.