The Slap

I need to get this on the blog and out of my mind (for now). I know I will come back to read it later, but I hope to clear my mind for now and also need to remember the symbolism.

It starts out, I was walking down a big street in San Antonio. I was pushing something with wheels in front of me, maybe one of those little shopping baskets people can take on buses. I began to cross the street, jaywalking. I looked behind me and the cars at the light were at a stop. When I faced forward again, I see two young women crossing in front of me, wearing backpacks and maybe sleeping mats or sleeping bags on their backs. The longer I looked at them, I became aware they wore no clothes! It shocked me into a standstill. Suddenly I realized I heard a difference in traffic, looked behind me and went back to the side of the street I started from.

When I finally made it to the homeless shelter, I took a seat in the waiting room. To my left were a series of short shelves open to the other side, some shelves held containers of food. Somebody placed a container on the top shelf next to me and then came back with another container that went into the shelf underneath that.

I could not see the person on the other side, but I asked, "What is that?"

They said, "It's warmed milk."

I saw women with babies sitting in the waiting room and thought maybe it was for one of them. However, I asked anyway, "For what?"

They said it was for the soup. I figured I must be sitting in the wrong chair, so I moved. I walked out of there and went to a bar. Husband and I were drinking beer, standing and talking because it was crowded with people. There was a contest for a diamond ring and Husband won the contest! From out of nowhere, a dark-haired woman walked up to us, looking at him smiling, saying she knew he was going to give her the ring, right? She asked him if he wanted to go out in the back alley and do some kissy-kissy.

I looked at her like she was crazy and asked her if she was talking about having a threesome because he wasn't going nowhere without me (not that I really would have participated in a threesome). She slapped me! Then I walked away. (that was pretty stupid, right?) I was mad and I decided I wasn't going to go home. I didn't want to be there when he finally decided to show up. I walked toward a bus stop and saw a bus approaching. Scrambling to get enough change (for Metro Transit prices), I realized I had no idea where I was planning to go. I thought about going to Ingrid's house, but she would be in another state. Before I had the chance to do anything else stupid, I woke up and laughed because my arm was posed as if I was holding on to a pole on the bus.

The Surgery Never Completed

I was supposed to have a surgery. It seemed like it was to be an angioplasty, except they weren't going in the normal way, they were going in through my armpit.

The first day they tried it, my cat and another cat were at the hospital with me. At first they were cool. Later they decided to run out of the room, which was worrisome. The surgery was interrupted and they told me to get my cats and take them home. I was to return the next day to try again.

The next day, I was there and when they began the surgery, I felt so strange, like I was not getting enough air. (Strange, because they should have been giving me oxygen). They were surprised when I complained, saying they must not have given me enough of a certain drug. They administered more drug and left the room. The drug didn't do anything. I became bored from waiting so long for them to return, so I eventually got up, got dressed and left.

I met some friends who were going to see a magic show. We went to a theater in a different town, that was unexpected, Rina's brother said it was a better show and it was true. When we arrived, there was less of a crowd. We had better seats, closer to the stage than it would probably have been if we had gone to the usual place. I didn't go home with them.

Next thing I remember, I was sitting at a busstop. There were all of these people in houses nearby, looking out of windows at me and talking among themselves, arguing about what race I was, so much that it became extraordinarily annoying. I began singing about them, like an opera, which only made it worse because then they all came out of their houses and converged upon me, stealing too much of my air. I got up and went to another bench, exclaiming "I have heart problems and I am having problems breathing." An old Black woman said, "I'm glad you told us that", and then I woke up.

Dream a Little Dream

I dreamed several dreams, but of course, this little dream was the last one that woke me and the only one I remember all day. It was a migraine overnighter.

It was the smitten 27-year old who is so upset with me and alternately badly influenced about me from the waggling tongues of false tale-tellers, that I make him “uncomfortable” to be around me, who suddenly and surprisingly walked up to me, looking like a big-eyed puppy dog  as I was sitting down googling something on the Mac.  His hair looked better than I’ve ever seen it. After all of this, I made my search engine seem more important. I need an apology. His "discomfort" and these lies need to quit. My honor needs restoration. I refused to speak because he needed to speak first. I couldn’t look at him, but I was looking at both of us from outside of my body (I rarely dream like that). He kept looking at me, but he would not say anything. I don’t know if he just couldn’t speak or if he was waiting for me to say something. I woke up.

Funny thought for me to think of anyone reading this: you know how some people have the same dreams consecutively? Of course, everyone does this. Hahaha. I wonder if it was originally his dream because his hair looked so good.

Who's zooming who? I still maintain my innocence. (smile)

This is TROUBLE

First, Rina came into my room, trying to talk to me about the controversy about me and her brother. I began to tell her and we were interrupted. I never got the chance to set her straight about things. Her brother was cross. I called him a heathen to his face and I made it clear that I had no understanding how he could think I wanted to be intimate with him. There was a heater that was out of order. It would not turn off. (yes, I get the innuendo) He said he would fix it. Instead, he MADLY took a stick to the fan behind the heater and kept hitting it until he broke it to pieces. Next thing I remember, I was in their mother's car. She was going to take me to the grocery store. I was in the passenger seat of the car. She abruptly got out of the car, while it was moving in reverse. I asked her what was going on, as I did my best to maneuver over to hit the brake, put the car in park, and get behind the steering wheel. Was I supposed to drive myself? She said yes. I did fine getting to the grocery store, but after I got there, I could not control my shopping cart.

Woe!

When It's So Much Trauma

I can't help knowing there is a message involved and I am not doing an adequate job of delivering the warning. It was like 6 hours of nightmares and trying to reason why. SS all over the place, but more. Knowing someone is going to die an early death because of her obsession to help him, because she thinks his soul is salvageable, because she doesn't recognize the extreme evil and crafty cruelty he exudes.

I am traumatized only because I know I am supposed to convey a message to ears that close themselves to my words. I know I am here with these people, in this situation that I don't want to be in, for specific reasons. Yet I don't know how to communicate it right. I don't even know anymore if I am supposed to break through the barriers they put up against my communication attempts. I must think about this for awhile before going further with action.

Meanwhile, since my last post I have had more dreams about walking about large building structures that are apartments or living quarters for massive amounts of people. I am still processing this, not knowing for sure how this symbolism should be interpreted.

Sometimes Dreams Go All Over The Place

So I say this with caution: Sometimes dreams do go all over the place, one minute your in one place and the next it's something completely else. I can't exactly remember what order any of this went in, I just remember it was all so very disturbing.

I was offered a job as a Spa Director, presumably for a place I had worked before (except for the fact that in real life I have never worked there). The woman who used to run this place was someone in real life who used to run another company I worked at for a minute, however in the dream, she had relinquished her position and quit. That was one of the reasons they wanted me back.

In the dream, I was having problems deciding what I was wearing to get there. There was also a dilemma of shoes. This place was nearby and it would have been simpler to walk, I wore walking shoes, and later realized I was going to have to get on a bus anyway because there was a part of the street where people were tearing up the sidewalk. I almost considered changing into something that would go better with heels and finally decided against changing at all.

Taking the bus, I was still going to have to do the majority of the walk because the bus stops were about 2 blocks away in both directions. I could walk up a hill or walk down only a slight hill. I didn't take the hill and the driver let me off early. Then I had to jaywalk and only walk past a few shops before I got to my new job. As I went in, I suddenly felt overdressed.

Girl dreams! HAHA

Then it got more serious.

There was a part where I was being hurried up by people, there were others who joined or were herded in with us. It was random, but it reminded me of primary school, everybody stay in line, please. I could not stay in there lines. I kept running off and exploring. The building was new. I lifted a key to a bathroom we passed. This was supposed to be my new home. There were people I have known there and people I have never met. Funny, I felt like I was in Orange County, California and later it was stated that we were indeed there in Orange County and we were on Beach Blvd. Derrick and I escaped off of the property, we went to a convenience store to get something to eat because we realized it was going to be all cafeteria food at this place. I realized it was not going to be kosher and there was no choice to have a kosher part of the building to live in. (not that the convenience store was kosher... it's a dream and does not have to make sense.

Then we went off in another direction as if we were not going back. We ran into a gang. SS was there, high on crack with a bunch of thugs. One of them grabbed me and they were trying to scare me. I just kept smiling, almost like I was a madwoman. Some other guy had a meat cleaver he was brandishing. They grabbed my hair like they were going to chop it off. Another guy threateningly zipped his finger across his throat and people laughed. Meanwhile, they were seriously pulling at my hair and trying to make me scream, but I wouldn't scream. Instead I just had this lunatic smile on my face. They chopped my hair off and I turned around smiling at them and asked, "Are you happy now?"

Derrick was impatiently yelling, "Come on!" as he was acting like he was going to run off and leave me alone. It had dawned on him that we didn't really know the neighborhood and he thought we will probably be better off where we were. I dreaded that if we went back to that place we were never going to get back out of there. I went back with him anyway, and I don't know why.

The other really bothersome remembrance that I have from this morning's dreams is that I was rising up into the sky, I couldn't help myself but to keep going up, I could not slow myself down. I was looking down at my cat. She was also rising up into the sky below me. She wasn't rising as quickly and I did not want to lose her. I called to her and it was like there was an invisible string between us, holding us together and it was getting longer to make up for the increasing distance, but I was trying to bring her closer anyway. The Shekhinah was drawing us upward, I remember that feeling and trying to explain this to my cat.

This is the second dream I have had about me feeling like I am dying, living in this house. And in real life, at present, the owners of this house I live in are allowing SS to stay here because he has "serious problems". Oy!

A Vegetarian Frying Chicken?

I wish I could remember all of it. Husband was in it and I guess he was here. So was T-Bone or someone who resembled him. I had a Buick. It wasn't a Regal, I think it was an old Skylark. It was cherry-classic.

Husband had his own car, even though it was painted like an advertisement for some kind of motor oil. They were driving the cars back from somewhere and I disputed they should have picked me up and allowed me to drive my own car home from where ever it was because I didn't want anyone driving my car. If my own mother wasn't driving my cars, nobody else should either. T-Bone apologized and threw me my keys. I had to leave. There was somewhere I was supposed to go. They left in the oil-mobile and I went back inside to get ready.

I ended up in Minneapolis. I was using my cane. I stopped to get something to eat and then saw one of the holier women that I know over at a table with other women. This friend of mine is a vegetarian and she was frying chicken.

I remembered I had not fed my cat. For a minute, I was struggling to balance my tray and walk over to their table. My friend wasn't looking up to see me and no one saw my dilemma. I decided I would probably not stay in the city overnight as I had planned. I had to go back and feed my cat.

I'm pretty sure this was entirely a psychologically induced dream. Signs of the times...

My Uncle and The Eggs

First of all, my uncle would never divorce my aunt. But in this wacky dream, he was in the process of it. We went on a vacation after he signed some papers and wrote that he was only paying $300 a month in alimony.  We rode in one of his Cadillacs. As he drove, he morphed into a younger person, all the way to looking like a teenager. When we got to the motel, as we were going to our separate rooms, he asked me if I wanted to go get plastered with him. I don't believe I've ever seen this uncle take a drink so that was equally bizarre. I declined.

At that point, having temporarily forgotten that my uncle had morphed younger before my eyes, I started thinking I should maybe call the police and report that someone is using my uncle's credit cards and has stolen one of his cars. Then I met up with best friend and we got some gift bags  from somewhere. We had these huge bags with assorted toiletries, including what looked like a ladies' version of Avon's Black Suede, only it was pink! After we looked through our bags we went for a walk. Along the way, we walked on a sidewalk that where there were chickens laying eggs. It was so hot that the eggs were bursting open and frying on the sidewalk.

More on this later.

Flashback to December

Same vision/nightmare/premonition as in December 2011 with a little more added to it.

Same group of women sitting in folding chairs, in an area that may be inside of a church? The room is somewhat centralized in that it's not a simple four-cornered room and there are other rooms and doorways that are a part of what I see. I am standing behind the mother of the child that starts screaming bloody murder from inside one of those rooms. The mother has wavy brown-black hair. I only see her from the back. She gasps "Jacob" as she jumps up to go to her son. Another woman gasps "____ is in there with him," as if she already knew there was a possibility of something terrible happening because she knows he is a sick excuse for a human being. B___ is once again defending him and woman are immediately cutting her off with expressions that are shunning. As the poor mother is screaming and physically attacking SS, B___ is still trying to plead for his case talking about don't be so hard on him, he had this happen when he was a child  and he just needs mental help, I am yelling that he is past mental help and he belongs in prison and deserves whatever the guys in there do to him; he needs to pay for all the bad things he's done to people, especially for messing with children. He should know better if he really was raped by a man when he was a child. And if it was such a horrid experience why is he still talking to his so-called rapist? I woke myself up yelling.

I went back to this several times this morning, but I can't ever see the mother's face or see the child. I've seen into the room (it's like a nap room or a room for childcare) and I saw the mother hitting SS, but I wasn't focusing on the child to see what he looks like. For about 15 years now people have been talking to me about lucid dreaming. I wish I could direct myself better in dreams, but I'm not sure that I am the one who should control what I am being shown. Perhaps it would have kept me from realizing today that if B___ doesn't take care about her close associations with SS, her reputation is going to go down. Of course I probably already perceived that, but if this is a group of women from her church, it may be more relevant.

So I am a glutton for punishment sometimes in the scope of trying to be righteous. Knowing fully well that B___ has some viewpoints that totally go against my beliefs, I must go into prophetess mode and tell her this vision has happened again. I already know she will meet with an untimely and shameful death. I don't know the exacts, but she is too close to SS and the way he is and they way so tight, I wouldn't be surprised if he and his actions are the death of her. But I must warn her. If there is anything she can do to prevent this, she should! But she won't because instead she wants to impose that my visions are demonic. She asks me if I think I am a medium and starts talking to me about her idolatrous religion. I am ready for a bonfire and to be burned at the stake as a witch. It would be laughable except 1) there is this little boy named Jacob who is going to have a terribly traumatic experience and I am totally frustrated with my efforts of trying to stop it, 2) after she tried to call me possessed, I told her he was nasty and she was nasty for trying to defend somebody who is so nasty, 3) She keeps on with this stupid misery talking about "I know you don't like him..." and I still feel (and may always feel) I am only an observer and that like has nothing to do with this! I live a holy life and she doesn't. My gift is a blessing and not anything from anybody evil. People didn't treat the prophet Jeremiah very kindly either.

Really strange dream the other morning! (When aren't dreams strange?)

I was in a setting with Vincent Irizarry and Walt Willey. It was as if they were interviewing me, although I don't know if we were being televised, if there was an audience or if it was just the 3 of us in a room alone. They were jovially asking me so many questions. Some of them were a bit prying and personal, but the vibe was comfortable and fun. In fact, some of the questions and answers were a bit humorous, which is what caused me to wonder if we were in a show after I woke up and thought about the dream. One of the funny questions was when Walt asked me if I liked to wear t-shirts. Then he said Susan likes t-shirts. In the end, they both told me I was ready to find my husband and that I would find the right man to be in my life.

Yesterday morning I kept having migraine dreams. For me that means nightmares that go on and on. I wake and feel so pained I must go back to sleep and return into the same nightmare. 2 hours after I awoke I was talking with a friend recalling these nightmares. When I got off the phone I tried to remember exactly what they were about and I didn't remember anything except a random remnant that showed me exactly where to find something I'd lost over a year ago. I walked over to the bookshelf and  RIGHT ON the very books it was on top of in the dream it was there! I had thought it went behind and under the bookshelf and there was something else on the books, in front of what I'd lost so it couldn't be seen.

So in the past few years, I am seeing more good predictions coming from my dreams. It's an amazing gift and I am in praise mode that I may keep seeing more good to compensate for all of the bad things I have had to see in advance.

Anybody who reads this dream blog may be interested to know I hope to be posting dreams and thoughts of dreams more often BECAUSE today I was thinking back to a dream I had 3 or 4 years ago and realizing it was about my life here in this house and the way things are at present. It frustrates me that I didn't record it so that I could have an exact, descripted memory of the symbolism. It involved a lot (many sets) of mis-matching containers (such as spice containers, food cannisters and other containers that one usually sees in matching sets). I used to keep a great dream notebook and stopped when writing became much more difficult. Sometimes I have to type one-handed, and sometimes it just hurts to much to do beyond what is necessary. However I think dreams and their meanings or correlation in our lives are so intriguing and worth sharing, If nothing else, I'm sure it could be at least mildly entertaining to some of you. :)

The other thing that came to mind while I was thinking about this is a random (or not so random) dream I had in recent weeks. Very short, I saw The Notorious One talking with another guy as they were walking up to a convenience store. He was talking to the other guy about me and then said, " If I'd known I was going to have the chance to be with someone so special, I would have lived my life a lot differently." Then I woke up.

Sometimes in dreams, we don't always see the people as they really are. Well I don't know. I have never knowingly received a communication from The Notorious One since he's been gone off of this earth, so that's probably what startled me out of my sleep. At first, I thought, that was really something fantastic that I had a communication with him. Later though, I think maybe it was someone that's been more recently involved in my life. Unfortunately, it's really looking like I need to accept that special part of my life is over... OR PERHAPS what I should focus on is the message: I am someone so special. :)))

Horrid Enlightening Dream/Nightmare/Revelation

They say our most horrid nightmares are important spiritual messages meant to get our attention so that we can be aware. Not everyone makes it past the original content.

My message this morning came along with a migraine. With migraines come some of my most vivid revelations that I am forced to continue through until it's through, dreams that can wake me up and then when I go back to sleep I am right back in the same mess.

Mr. Half-Penny, I am renaming him: Sir Sicko, more likely minimized to SS.

SS was raping me furiously. It hurt bad and he was yelling at me telling me this was my payback for living rent-free.

He turned into my mother's 2nd husband, without changing form. Then I knew they were the same. (My step-father always seemed to think we that he abused "owed" him something.) Moreover, it helped me to realize the negative energy that both of their spirits are still throwing at me; they are both so full of hate. They are both demons in life and after death.

(Still, the other nightmares with the SS monster, it's only SS, those are all things that are really on him and I just keep praying that he will be caught and imprisoned before much longer.)

This is a message meant to compel me to shine positive light, more than I ever have been before. Christians want to talk about spiritual warfare, they ain't got nothing! All that I've been through in life, there is something I am here for. Whatever way I have to I will fight against their evil energy. My family tried to take me down with their negative energy and that purpose was defeated. This year, this day, I finally see what I need to do. The message has been thrown at me a few times, but it took a nightmare to hit me in the head with it.

I must let my light shine!

A Dream Worth Pondering

I really should have recorded this the day of the morning I had it, for specificity's sake. I need to figure out interpreting this. Still thinking about it.

Starting out, I was living in this apartment in a building that otherwise only had occupation by office and retail space. Maybe I had no curtains or blinds. Some of my windows looked out into offices and stores. It was strange. I had a baby in the apartment with me. The baby never made a sound, although it was alive. I went out to get something for just a moment. Shortly after I returned, Ingrid arrived. Apparently, she was the person who had given me the baby. I asked her why the baby was so quiet all of the time. Suddenly, I realized I could not find the baby! She had disappeared. Worse, I realized I didn't know why I had left her all alone in the apartment when I had gone out to the store! I felt really terrible about that and Ingrid was of course looking at me as though I should feel really terrible and what kind of nurturing woman was I?

So, I had to move. I was tired of my windows, feeling like someone must have been looking in and took the baby. It wasn't like Child Protective Services had come in. No police entered into the dream. I just had to go. I moved into this HUGE place where the main room was expansive and then there were many compartmentalized rooms mostly made from accordion-like walls that could be opened up. However, some rooms had regular walls. Ingrid was there for a moment and remarked she wondered how I could afford such a place. I sort of wondered why I needed a place so large. But then people started coming over, filling up the space. Just about the entire Buchanan family from OLTL was there and eventually, we were having a musical jam session. My guitar strings became loosened and they were inadvertently attached to something else. Despite my guitar problems, we were having a fun time and the music was decent. Tonja Walker and Thom Christopher walked in and disappeared. We looked all throughout the place and couldn't find them. Then, Vicki said they must be in the secret room. Well, leave it to Vicki to know about secret rooms. We found so many secret rooms, but we never found Tonja and Thom.

My husband showed up and he also wondered how I was able to get such a huge place and wanted to know why.

Next thing I know, I'm sitting next to Mr Prince of the Ghetto in a car and he was talking about my husband and other guys, saying I always come back to him but why do I always go running away to go and end up with other guys. My revelation: I told him I have never stopped loving him, however HE is the one who is always so busy with other things and has so many women out there with kids of his and I am overwhelmed by all of his other associations. I tell him last time I gave up on him it was because he had moved in with some other woman that his mother told me about and why was I supposed to wait around, so of course I finally found someone to marry.

Then I woke up.

Most Funniest Disturbing Nightmare This Week (thus far)

The Artesia Freeway began where the boulevard begins at Aviation. I only wanted to go as far as Vail, but the exit was in the left lane and I totally missed it. The freeway was built double-decker and I ended up on top. A young man who knew my Prince of The Ghetto was riding with me. Apparently he had something to do with the music industry. He wanted to hear me sing and all I could do was sing, "Row Your Boat"! Very annoyed with myself for blowing that chance and never singing anything else, aside from the fact that I drove all the way to the Long Beach Freeway because traffic (and my car also) was moving too fast.

May the Name Of Mr Halfpenny Be Blotted Out of The Book Of Life

I am SO SICK of having these nightmare visions concerning this monster! He is an abusive rapist, child molester, abuser. He prefers little boys, and I've had nightmares about him before I even met him 2 1/2 years ago. I have nightmares of his horrid interactions with my dear friend. I usually see things from her perspective, but lately I have been seeing from someone else and I don't know who. I don't know if it's past times or future. Either way it's ugly and it's about a little boy I never saw before this last month. His name in my visions is Jacob. I am seeing from the perspective of a woman who is an aunt or a friend of the child's mother.

Enough on that ugliness!

These Are Good Omens

Ok, so in order to explain the first part of this dream, in real life there was a somewhat evil supervisor (JJ) who thought he was working in a sweatshop and he had a problem with me since January or February and he finally found a way to get rid of me a couple of weeks ago. The week before that I had a day when I felt like somebody put drugs (the date rape pill?) in my coffee and it affected me really badly for about a day, so I'm REALLY glad I will never be returning to that temp job again.

So, I went to this job in a dream last night and when I got to my desk, I was speechless. I froze. I didn't know what to do because there on my desk was a bag of weed! It wasn't mine (so I thought) or at least I hadn't left it there. I tried to hide it anyway, but other people saw before I was able to and then JJ walked up to me with a plastic box with a whole bunch of bags of mj and a vase full of water and a bouquet of flowers. He said "I'm sorry you weren't feeling well, but I'm glad you're back to work. I don't ever want that to happen again, I want you always to have something to smoke, so here." He handed me the box and put the vase down and handed me the flowers. Then he said, "All of this is for you, and I'm really sorry about what happened."

In the dream, I thought to myself, he understood!

I got really flustered and put the flowers down on the desk. I opened the plastic box and I couldn't believe the amount of weed that he'd given me. It was worth hundreds of dollars. Thinking about this, (and nervous about the fact that everyone around was gawking at my work station), being my klutzy self, I knocked the vase of water over and it got a lot of one of the bags wet on the inside. Then, instead of one vase full of water being on my desk, there were two. I poured the water-saturated bag of mj into the vases and immediately it sprouted and grew into huge plants.

A woman I worked with helped me get it to my house. In the dream, I thought her name was Stephanie. She looked like another woman I used to work with, but later today I realized she also looks like one of Angel's friends. After we dropped the stuff at the house, she told me we were going to go to a party. I was changing my clothes and realized I needed to go to the kitchen to get something. Some other people came home while I was walking around naked. We were all doing our best to play it off, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, like they were asking me questions that I had to answer before I could go back to my room and put on some clothes, but I finally got that accomplished.

When we walked into the party, I was asking this woman why we were at this party where everybody was white people. I didn't want to be at a party full of white people. She looked at me like I was crazy and informed me this was not just a party full of white people and led me through the room, introducing me to people, getting a glass of wine for me, and kept on leading me around a corner where there was another room full of people and a high-backed recliner that was turned away from us until it spun around and in it was Angel. Smiling, she said, "Welcome to my party!"

Then I woke up.

So my consensus, at least about the first part of this dream, is that although it's a bit of a setback, I am going to have pleasing results that are so much better than what I was getting from that temp job that is no longer... and life is gonna be good in upcoming times. :)

On A Train To Colorado

One of the strangest dreams I've had lately. At first I thought we were on a bus; later, I realized we were on a train. We were all on our way to Colorado to take a series of classes. There was a man who was in charge of our trip, directing us, making sure we all stayed together, etc. For a while I had an empty seat beside me and I was changing my clothes. In the middle of my change, we came to a stop where some people were boarding. I was just about topless when a woman came to sit beside me. She looked shocked at my state of disarray at first glance, but then she must of realized I was trying to change clothes as modestly as possible. I had tights on and soon had a layered mix of shirts, the top layer was a long sharp-looking long fascia, purple and green with multi-colored lace. I had a pile of clothes in front of me on the floor and I quickly made sure to find which pair of jeans and what pocket I had hundreds of dollars in, because I was aware that I had only paid my fare one way.

There were several people I knew on the train. One lady was one of my Facebook friends who I don't personally know. I saw more of them at our next stop, where my acutely sensitive hearing observed that there were agents outside the train station who were looking for me. We were told we would be stopped here for awhile and that we should get off if we wanted to pick up something to eat. I saw there was a taco stand with good prices and I was also thirsty. After I got my food I saw the agents talking to our trip director. Conveniently, there were other people that I could turn and talk to so that my back was to the agents and they couldn't see my face. I overheard the trip director telling the agents that it was not his place to give up personal information about any of the students on the trip and since they didn't have a warrant, there was no reason to comply. Then along comes Antonio, my big hero of the day. He put his arm around me and smushed my face into his body as we walked past the agents to an area where everyone was sitting down to eat. After we passed them, he put his arm down from around me and reached to hold my hand, caressing my palm. I told him that I bet he was going to marry an older woman and he told me I was probably right. Then, as if this must have been too much for me, I woke up. Hahaha!

Did I Really Kill Him? Will He Be Killed?

So, there are many nightmares that I have had in the past year or so, not worth posting because they are not at all symbolic of anything. There is a crack-monster, rapist abuser (we will call him Mr Half-Penny) and his misdeeds, arguments, abusive behaviors, terroristic behaviors toward others, I believe they are all things that have happened or will happen and I wonder why I must have these terrible sightings continue during what should be my restful sleep. He is the abuser who still involves himself with the woman who used to be my best friend. I see what they go through or what they will be going through. Sometimes it seems to be endless and always nightmarish. Often, my nightmares of Mr Half-Penny are seen from the eyes of someone else, a child or an old person, sometimes my friend. When she tells me they have nothing to do with each other anymore, I always know it's a lie. In fact, within the past month while we were on the phone, I busted her with her lie in the same phone call when her phone malfunctioned and she was talking to him while she thought I was on hold, but I was right there able to hear the entire conversation.
If I would have entered this dream in the morning, there would be more to it, but it was so ugly (as are all nightmares with Mr Half-Penny), I couldn't bear to continue thinking about it.
Basically, in the dream, I felt I had killed him. My father and I were living in a house together, Mr Half-Penny had come into my house and I killed him. It was necessary to do so, I remember that. But after he was dead, I did not know how to deal. I just left him there, dead on the floor.
In another room there was a huge puddle of something. I don't know if it was blood or what. I walked by that room on my way out of the house, leaving to go to work.
My father was home and I don't know why, it was almost like I just thought he would take care of everything. I took the bus to work and called him on my way. My father asked me, "Don't you think you should call the police?" I replied, "You didn't call them?" and he said "Why should I call them? You're the one who killed him." I was incredulous, "You mean the body is still just there on the floor?" (it had been hours and all I could imagine was a really bad death-stink). "Why should I clean it up?" my father asked. "You're the one who did this and you need to take responsibility."
At that point, I was imagining being arrested and having to serve time for murder, I worried about my cat, then I re-focused, realizing this couldn't really be my fault, and that worse-case-scenario, I would be in jail for just a little while and then they'd see I wasn't at fault and send me home. But did I want to return to the house where this dead body of such an ugly-spirited person had been putrefying for hours? When I got to work, I looked for the police I thought might be waiting on me. Then I woke up.
I woke up wondering if I would be killing him soon. Obviously, it wouldn't be in a house I share with my father. Or is this again another case of me seeing this happening to someone else from their perspective, except that I am putting my father in the place of someone else in their life?
This is creepy. I am relieved in a way to have a premonition of his death, considering all of the other premonitions I have had concerning him, I hate to say this, but hopefully this means we will see the end of him soon. Still, I do not enjoy at all seeing this. When I first started having visions and premonitions about him, I thought there was something I was supposed to be doing to make him stop what he is doing, but there is nothing I can do. I warned my friend who refused to listen and then all that is left to do is pray. Now, most times I believe the reason I am seeing these things is so that I will have understanding, patience and forgiveness for my friend in later times when she is ready to allow me back into her life (because he doesn't want me in her life, as it stands presently)

Louis Armstrong At Grandma's House

Dead people... Louis Armstrong & that grandma

Before this part of my dream, I was actually (and successfully) doing aerial acrobatics at a place that resembled a circus ring.

Then I went to the apartments that belonged to my grandma. They weren't the apartments that she really used to own. But they were the same apartments from another dream in which I'd visited with her sometime within the last year. (yes, I do not always record all of my dreams.)

There was another woman that I was talking with on the porch. I don't know who she was. We were out there, smoking. There was a little camera in one of the windows. There was another apartment with children. She said she'd stashed their toys in my grandmother's apartment. We went inside.

Viewing what I could see on the main floor, I said I didn't see any toys. My grandmother wasn't there either. The woman said the toys were downstairs.

We went downstairs and then I realized this place looked familiar from another dream. In that dream, I had been talking with my grandmother and asking if I could live there for awhile, using one of the 2 spare bedrooms that she had downstairs. She had told me no, because she was expecting various visitors that would be using those rooms.

Later, after finding the toys, we went further into the downstairs where there was a utility room and some other rooms. Several people entered through another door that came in from outside. One of those people was Louis Armstrong (with longish hair). He said he was a distant cousin of mine. He produced several baggies from a bag that he'd carried in. The baggies contained useless trinkets, but the way he was carrying on, I was really supposed to be appreciating these gifts. Some of the other people were massage therapists who had coupons for a free massage. I was considering this, wondering to myself if I had enough for a substantial gratuity.

Mr Armstrong could tell I was not overly enthused about his gifts and I could tell this was bothering him, however I didn't feel there was much I could do about that. He really wanted to do something to make me happy and I couldn't fake my feelings. I was aware that I couldn't ask him for an autograph because I knew he really wasn't alive, therefore nobody was going to believe it. He sadly brought out what may have been his only other bag of goodies, saying "The only other thing I have is this ratchet and these things. That bag had tools and a little thing of oil and what I saw as useful things. I traded the bags he'd given me for the bag of tools, happily smiling and saying, "These are good things. I'm a Virgo and I like useful things." Then he also looked happier.

Then I woke up. What a strange dream! (as if I don't ever have strange dreams, hahaha!)