Transformation
03/30/2011: 3/3/4
With as many times…that I wake-up with the word ‘transformation’ echoing in my mind; I begin to wonder what realm of sleep I am in. It’s been frequent in the last month. The Matrix - it’s quite clear - there is evidence - my programming is changing. The Script.
If [X != dreamworld.db”] then if [X != “transformation”] then if [X != “map.pdf”]
then export
X/matrix/myproject/resources/boar.fox.cat.rabbit.hawk.spider.bat.cockroach.snake.
animalspeak
Today, I actually thought I was a Desert Horned Viper before completely waking up. I could feel my body moving… sliding across my bed in a sinuous movement as I saw the snake in bird’s eye perspective - on my bed. I was seeing me (except my bed sheets were more bluish than they grey they really are). Oddity thrives in the onset of darkness in my mind.
I love it, no matter what! Who is a WACKADOODLE NUTSY CUCKOO?
Animal Speak: “The snake has long been a symbol of death and rebirth. It sheds its skin as it outgrows the old. This death and rebirth cycle is part of what a snake represents. Before the snake sheds its skins, its eyes cloud over - it gives the snake a trancelike appearance. To many mystics and shamans this indicated the ability to move between the realms or the living and the dead, of crossing over from life to death and then back to life again.”
In the last two days, my dreams consist of death, mortuary strangeness, and manipulation.
Theatre District of the Woman: 03/29/2011
Yesterday, I walked around a corner plaza of which looked like an old theatre district (theatres very prominent lately, as well). The era was that of 60’s and early 70’s. However, my body had more of a late 80’s feel. I was with my twin sister. I ‘knew’ the place was something of a museum owned by an influential woman. This woman rattled my nerves in some unknown intuitive way. One part of me admired her and the other feared. Life without polarities is impossible...I imagine.
Either way, my sister and I walk in. There are lots of people all dressed in 70’s classy attire and a lot of them are smoking. I walked in taking in the scene but in the middle of the ‘museum’ stood a staircase. This staircase was square and rose-up at least four stories. Each floor had (four- maybe) rooms in which visitors could enter and appreciate the interior decorating and art.
My sister and I passed many people walking up and down the stairs - couples in a more modern era, older men, and women. Hmm…now that I think of it…most of the older folks seemed to represent the era of their prime as did the young folk. Don’t think my prime was late 80’s…it’s just how I felt.
I don’t recall entering any rooms until we got to the very top. I can remember over hearing conversations but what was said no longer has any existence in my memory. My sister and I end up in a room with two sections. I recall feeling like we weren’t supposed to be in that room. I take a closer look at everything in the room and come to realize that we have invaded the owner’s room. It is then that I remember that she had mystical powers and if she found out that we invaded her room, she may very well…well, do something not very pleasant.
I looked to the right and walked towards where ‘I knew’ my sister had previously treaded while I visually ‘took in’ the master bedroom. The restroom was well lit from outside light and everything was very bright and white. The bedroom had thick curtains which allowed little light. The bed spread was a plush maroon with ornate detail gold threading. The prominent colors were maroon and gold and very 30’s décor.
I kept calling to my sister saying, “We have to get out. This is not right. We need to leave before we are discovered.” It occurred to me now that she had walked out somehow and because of this…I was stuck. It was like one for one…one in, one out. I tried breaking a hole in the Venetian doors that somehow were the only place I knew would provide an escape. I think this is how Roxanne got out. I ended up escaping and telling Roxanne “Let’s get the fuck out of here and quick!” I didn’t want to cause alarm so we didn’t run. I was so relieved to be back outside the theatre.
Standing outside looking lost was a beautiful girl - long dark brown hair, about 5’9, in her late to early 30’s. I think her name was Beth. She was looking for a man named Michael. I walked up to her (at this point Roxanne has disappeared) and I ask her if she needed help. When I touched her, I could see her history. She was looking for a man she had gone to the theatre with. I then recall seeing them walking down the stairs together. He, however, was a lying douche bag. It was revealed to me that the lady, the owner of the theatre, paid Michael - a heroin addict - to clean up his act and seduce Beth to her theatre. She wanted, needed Beth to be there…and Michael was charming enough to seduce her into relations. I dunno - weird, I know. (By the way, Michael looked like Dexter actor, Michael C. Hall, with darker hair and much thinner).
I don’t recall what happened after this ‘knowing’ other than there was a murder and I was called to go ‘on-site’. I saw a young black man lying on the ground with a large slit behind his right ear to this throat. It feels like we are on a platform. The surrounding area was a visual blur but had the feeling of my grandma’s yard. Police offers began to point out or speak about the scene. I then come to realize that I was being tested. The murder was staged so that I could prove my loyalty and responsiveness. Either way, the police continue by showing me how to process the body only NOW they are showing me how to mummify the body - from removing organs and all.
03/30/2011
Dream#1: I was in a morgue - my purpose unknown. I was investigating something but I was trespassing. I had to hide. There were 2 bodies that I could visually see a strawberry blonde woman and an older man.
Dream#2: I am holding a 4 or 5 year old Chinese boy on my shoulders. We are playfully looking at the mall below us from some high point. Below this platform, stood either his older brother or dad. This man kept calling for me to throw this kid down there. I declined saying it wasn't safe. The kid got excited at the idea. I kept playing the scene over in my mind on how to approach this circumstance. "If I just hang him down from his hands...the man can catch him in his arms...or if I drop him this way...he'll be safe" I could see myself performing this action…and in this moment of contemplation, the kid fucking jumps off and over jumps - way out of the man's distance. He falls behind a 4ft. wide pot. My perspective immediately went to his side while I stood at the top . I could see his face up close - he broke his leg. I could feel his little warm body. I wanted to nurture him so I changed my perspective back and ran down the escalators to his side. I picked him up - looked at his broken leg…and held him. He was so warm and not very, very scared. He had little white shoes. I placed my hands above the broken area…and began to heal him.
Dream#3: I can surface fleeting memories of a guy I used to date. He was trying to get a hold of me to tell me he was going to move back to the country of Jordan and wanted to personally say good-bye. He contacted me via Facebook. I took a moment to review his profile and photos where I ‘felt bad’ for just up and ‘dropping’ him. Our relationship, after all, was “just for fun’ as he always stated until he wanted ‘more’.
Then next thing I know…I’m trying to wake-up and the word ‘Transformation” repeating like an echo in my head and I see the Desert Horned Viper in my bed and feel my body simultaneously move with what I’m seeing in bird’s eye perspective. It was beautiful!!!!