Dream: Fifth grade again...?

I was in fifth grade, but still in my twenties. Various people I knew from college were in the classroom (the same one I had in 7^th and 8^th grade) and we had a new teacher (in her 30s I think). Somehow it seemed that she had Irish heritage, but blonde hair, and she decided that we would exercise every day for a half hour in our seats. There was a mixture of college and elementary school kids, but the difference didn’t seem too noticeable at the time.

The teacher moved people to different sides of the room, and only later did I realize she had separated us by gender. First she worked with the girls, and the exercises were not at all helpful. It was more like bending but not flexing—a uneconomical use of time and effort. She told one older girl to “stick out your diaphragm” and one of the younger girls went “ew!” at the slight belly bulge that followed. I kept wanting to show her various stretches or exercises that we could do without depending on the flimsy school chairs and desks for support, but she talked too fast and seemed to really think her methods were useful.

[I suspect this is about different yoga techniques and my interest in Kriya yoga, the lightning path, as opposed to other slower methods, but in this case, the teacher might actually be me due to my overall unwillingness to sign up for lessons from Paramahansa Yogananda’s organization (one makes a promise not to discuss the lessons with others, directing them instead to get their own lessons).]

The boys were exercising on the other side of the room, and they got to do their own exercises that were far more useful. Seeing that they were doing whatever they pleased without the teacher’s watchful eye, I began to work on my triceps by supporting myself on a chair seat with my arms but lowering the rest of my body in front of it. The teacher didn’t seem to notice and went over to the boys. The girls immediately ceased to exercise and took up talking about the teacher under their breath. I went to go down the hallway for a drink (this was in an above ground “tunnel” that links two buildings at my college together) and caught a look at myself in a window, stopping. I seemed to be me, wearing my light blue cami, but with blood—at least, I assumed it was blood, and fresh, from its color, in two large circles—bigger than half dollars--over the middle area, the bottom one slightly to the left, the top more centered. I zipped my hoodie up over it and came back to class, unconcerned.

The teacher had put on the movie Waterworld, except it wasn’t the Kevin Costner movie. It was a futuristic, post-apocalyptic kind of movie, but I can’t recall exactly what went on. It looked darker, like people were underground, and the lights in the room were off. The room was kind of loud, and I sat in my desk with my feet up on the desk in front of me. I was eating Doritos (most Doritos contain dairy, so I don’t eat them in waking life). A security guard came in and the teacher looked startled. The class became very quiet, and she told him that we were having a celebration because we had met some goal with a pledge drive or had read so many books or something fifth graderish. I kept thinking about being in fifth grade and trying to figure out the numbers of grade and age in my head.

I think the lights came on overhead, and I looked down and realized how many Doritos were sitting on my stomach (apparently I’d leaned back and put a handful of them on my stomach) and I felt like other people would see how many I had there and make fun of me for being a pig. [unresolved food, weight and body issues, I’m guessing]

I think there was something about French class, but this might be because in the dream I was comparing the class I was in to my French class in high school where we watched many, many movies (The Little Prince, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (in Spanish), etc.)

Here I don’t remember, so either it is when I woke up, or switched into another dream. I did wake up for a few moments, and then rolled over to sleep, where I had another dream of flipping through many different names, people David Wilcock mentioned in his interview with Project Camelot, but there were a lot more names and I don’t remember any at the moment.

Dream: "You gotta put your pants on."

I was watching from the eyes of this girl, three college age girls in a bedroom. There was a king sized bed, and they climbed onto it. One girl started to take her pants off, and the other girl did too and the girl I was in felt obligated to go along, for whatever reason, trying to fit in. One of them noticed the large mirror at the foot of the bed and said “here we go!” and became enamored of watching herself strip in front of the mirror. Then there was noise down the hallway, and when I looked back, I was me, with C and W in my cousin’s room at my aunt’s house.

They were confused about their location, and their partial dressedness, and there was shouting down the hallway, so C hurried to redress and went down the hall. The door hadn’t been closed but there was a cushion covering part of the opening. W laughed about being pantless, but I got under the blankets because I was entirely naked. My clothes were in a pile at the side of the bed, and I went to put my shirt on.

Before I had gotten my shirt on, however, a man in his 40s came into the room. He was very tall, with long dark brown hair that fell in waves, and he had a moustache and goatee. His eyes were dark (I’d recognize him if I saw him again) and he was dressed in black. He stood up very straight and became very perturbed when he saw my bare shoulders sticking out from under the blankets, which I hugged up to my chin. “What are you doing in here?!” he demanded, and W said “What are you yelling about? It’s cold in here.”

He stomped down the hall and I heard him shout “they’re doing something down there!” I tried in vain to hook the bra but I just got my shirt on over it. It was a grey shirt I have. I didn’t have a chance to get my pants, so I lowered the blanket over the side of the bed to cover them on the floor. W was also still under the blanket and without pants too. In came my mom and C’s mom with C in front of them, talking loudly as though to give us a warning.

I was like “mom, who is that guy?” and she rolled her eyes, sighed, and said “Duncan.” I asked if she knew him, and she said “From a long, long time ago.” It seemed like they’d gone to high school together. Then she mentioned that he was a horrible man, but he was going to be initiated into a Swami order tomorrow.

I said “What?! Swami?” but it was very loud with conversation and C’s mom and C and W were laughing about some party they had to host later, for which they were going to dress up. C’s mom kept pointing at the clock and chastising W because it was now 10:58 pm and was supposed to go to this party and wake up at 8 am for work the next day.

W managed to get dressed under the blankets and got out of the bed to go change for the party. C’s mom was laughing about their choice of costume, and I tried to sneak my leg down to my pants to bring them up to me so I could put them on, although I suspected they wouldn’t fit either. W and C came back in the room wearing their costumes, which looked like a dark toga of sorts with red taffeta sticking up around the neck. Somehow it looked all right on C but not on W. They had to leave, and I didn’t want to go out of the room because Duncan was in the kitchen.

At any rate, I woke up and typed this down. Then the ninja came into the room half-singing “You gotta put your paaaaaaaants on” over and over, while I looked at him like “uh… that’s what my dream was about…” and told him about it.

Since I’ve been studying the 2012 and ascension stuff again the synchronicities are numerous daily. I’d like to start interpreting dreams again, but I don’t know what the pantslessness was about. I guess I didn’t mention that there was somehow guilt—not self guilt, but knowing that other people would automatically assume I was guilty—about finding myself naked in a room with two half-dressed people even though nothing sexual had occurred after we switched from college co-eds to people I know.

Especially strange was Duncan and his initiation to the swami order.

Dream: Rainbows in the Dark

I was at my aunt’s house, out in the yard. It was summer, and nighttime. The sky was alive with light and cloud, and I realized there were two moons if I looked west. One was a crescent and the other was half full. I went to go in the house to call people out to look at the moons, but looking east, I saw another moon, a full moon. My cousins and I walked around the backyard looking at the moons, and then I noticed overhead I could see three nebulas with their feathery gaseous plumes, and they were so beautiful.

Then I realized that a large portion of the sky overhead looked like—if you’re looking at Doppler weather radar, it looked like a huge storm, brilliant red and orange with spots of white and pink, but there were also rims of yellow and green. I ran into my mom’s house (she lives next door to my aunt) to get my camera to see if I could take a picture. I told my mom about the sky and she said “I’ve seen something like that before.” But she actually came outside to see it. Usually in my dreams my mom dismisses what I say, which is not something she does in real life.

When I returned, the moons were gone, replaced by two huge full moons, and when I mean huge, I mean I’d have to use my whole hand to fully block one of them from sight. They seemed to be not far above the horizon. I turned to look in the east, and there was another identical full moon. I told my mom it was too bad the colors were gone, but when we looked up again there were streams of rainbow hued light. There was one that was partially hidden behind the trees, but it was huge, and I put my mom in front of me to point it out to her. When I moved to see the whole thing, there was a label tagged onto the end of it, as if it were a figure in a diagram, but I don’t remember what it said.

The sky started to get lighter, and I was sad because everything was so pretty at night, and it very quickly became day. Then Richard showed up and he seemed much happier than I’d ever seen him before. I think we were having a family dinner, and Richard had come for that.

It seemed like there were many more people than are actually in my family, but I don’t remember seeing them.

Dream: Valkyrie Profile plus stories

I was walking around Marquette at sunset in the summer with other people. One was a woman named Kira, then there was a man. There were actually a lot more people inside of me because they were disembodied einherjar, the spirits of warriors chosen by a Valkyrie that hadn’t yet been taken to Valhalla (obviously a Valkyrie Profile 2 reference, as is much of the dream).

We walked together, Kira, the man and I, and we came across a great purple whale that had just been defeated, lying kind of in the road. The street wasn’t there as clearly as it would usually be, but when we walked up to it, a little signal popped up in my vision that said “Split… X” meaning, to split the whale, press the X button. I told the others that we could split the whale and perhaps there would be some kind of treasure within it. The man drew his sword and slashed the whale all the way up.

The top part rolled away and dissipated, and inside the whale, without any sort of consideration for anatomy or organs were loads of weapons. A bow was wedged somewhere in the tail area, and I pulled it out and handed it to a blond archer woman who vanished within me again. There were wands too, some of which were really pretty, and I commented on how pretty it was and hoped it would stay that way so I could see it in action later. I distributed weapons as well as I could, giving Kira her preferred rapier and the man a more sturdy slashing greatsword, and there were also engraved daggers, who seemed to be notes for whom it was more convenient to be daggers.

One said “complete without help from Kira,” and then had a sort of experience bonus mentioned. There were two for Kira and one for the man with the sword. I didn’t know what missions they meant, but I figured they were to be used in battles where I could choose to tell different people to not fight, like in Rogue Galaxy (another PS2 game). I wasn’t sure what weapon I would use, because I wasn’t sure about my own weapons proficiency. I collected the weapons we couldn’t use now so I could later sell them.

Then Kira shouted something and I turned. Gleachel stood on the sidewalk, a skull in his hand. I knew it was a skull we needed to complete a puzzle, a sort of key. It didn’t quite look like a human skull, more like a proto-human. Gleachel is the villain in my fantasy stories. He’s a fire Witch, and the sunset sky burned for him. His hair was brilliant crimson. He dropped the jawbone of the skull and reached down to get it. I looked down at the weapons I had and picked a short sword that looked like a letter opener I once had. It was pretty crude, but seemed strong, dropping the rest, I jabbed at his hand, piercing its back with my weapon. He looked at his hand in disbelief, and I did as well. Gleachel in the stories is supposed to have blood like liquid fire, but his blood did not burn.

He lifted his sword against me, and I swung at his sword, breaking off the tip, and swung again, severing the blade from the hilt. He dropped the sword, and seemed ready to cast a spell, but I slashed across his arm. He offered the skull to me, and I took it. Two molars fell from it and skittered on the sidewalk. He reached down to them, picking one up and lifting it to me, still bowed over. I took it and stared at his blood on it and my fingers, not understanding why his blood did not burn.

It seems like we had a discussion, but we could feel the other’s feelings, and he knew how deeply I regretted hurting him, regretting that he was my enemy. He backed away, and I awkwardly tried to carry the sword, the skull and jaw as well as pick up the other weapons I’d dropped to attack Gleachel. I backed away, and he climbed into an old beaten up pick up truck and pulled out of the parking lot we were next to while I backed toward the direction of my house. Somehow I knew Gleachel would be coming to dinner as if we hadn’t just fought one another, perhaps something about secret identities. I crossed the street and turned back around, trying to wave to him, but he seemed determined not to look at me.

I thought, “I really should somehow bring elements of present time into some of my stories. No one would ever think Gleachel would drive an old beat up pick up.” Gleachel would have to turn a corner to leave my eyesight, but there were too many cars for him to turn. I began to cross a driveway, but stopped because another pick up was pulling into that driveway, a white one with two men in it. I kind of motioned for them to go, and turned back to Gleachel, who was still waiting to turn. The pick up driver waved for me to go, and I ducked my head and ran, not looking back to Gleachel who probably still ignored me. I went to my apartment, now alone, and went up the stairs, depositing the weapons in a closet.

The apartment wasn’t my own. There were more rooms to it, and my aunt and cousins were there. My cousin Rachel had a high fever, and when they had given her children’s Tylenol, she started crying like an infant. “This again!” Kayla said, and covered her ears. My aunt was sitting next to the bed where Rachel lay thrashing about on the mattress. I thought that even though Rachel was sick, I couldn’t just call Gleachel and cancel dinner because then he might think the cancellation was because of our fight. I also thought Rachel was somehow faking the baby cry because children’s Tylenol having that effect just didn’t make sense. All the while, I held a heavy sorrow in my heart about Gleachel.