Welcome to Thus Says the Prophets!
Welcome to Thus Says the Prophets!
The Amusement Park
My March 5, 2009 Dream
Before re-telling this dream let me first say that I don't consider myself to be a prophet and am making no claims that this is anything other that what it is. I am simply sharing an experience.
I study the prophets and seek to understand what they have revealed. And sometimes I dream and occasionally I have visions.
I do have a lot of remembered dreams, I always have. Sometimes these dreams seem to be the product of my own mind, i.e. working through various issues, memories floating to the surface and so on. In other words, they are "just dreams." Sometimes however my dreams seem too real to be "just dreams." When I experience these kinds of dreams I typically pay close attention to them but usually keep them to myself. But on occasion I have dreams that I feel I should share with others. Last night I had such a dream.
As is always the case with such dreams this one may be significant, it may not be. What if anything it means I can't say but I do see various things in it that leads me to ponder it. As always your thoughts are cordially invited. It is what it is (whatever that is).
My friends who study UFOlogy and who believe that people are sometimes "taken" may see certain parallels here that I personally would not discount. Those who interpret dreams symbolically and those who understand them in Freudian terms and so on may find familiar symbols here as well. Those who believe that dreams are sometimes granted by God to inform or warn us may see messages to that end, while yet others may think it's only a weird dream and wonder why I bothered posting it at all...
Again, it is whatever it is. I just feel it is something I should share and so I am.
I should possibly mention that the later portions of this dream include descriptions that some may consider to be adult content. As I can't imagine kids reading this it seems sort of silly to point this out, but I've received such complaints before, so there you go.
The early morning hours of March 05, 2009:
As I slept I became aware of what sounded like carnival music outside. Curious, I got out of bed to determine what a carnival was doing in our fairly remote Northern California area. It sounded to be coming from very nearby.
As I pushed back the covers I was surprised to find that I was wearing lederhosen (knee-length Bavarian leather pants), knee high white socks with stitched roses at their tops, oversize brown patent leather shoes, a red shirt with poofy sleeves, suspenders, and a traditional tyrolean hat. Aside from the fact that I was not dressed like this when I went to bed, there was another peculiarity in that I don't wear leather at all. This fact seemed more interesting to me at the time than the change of attire.
As I walked through our darkened house I realized that it was no longer our house at all. It looked more like a European youth hostel and now the sun was shining brightly through the windows.
As walked into the next room through heavy wooden doors we don't have, I saw the exit and walked through it into the bright sunlight of our wooden deck.
As I looked out into the distance, rather than seeing our fish pond, the neighbor's horses or the distant mountains, before and below me was a HUGE amusement park! People were everywhere. Many were patiently standing in long lines, others congregated in small groups wordlessly eating something out of a paper cone (sort of like the cones cotton candy is served in but what they were eating looked more fried okra or some other fried substance that I didn't care to consider). But most people seemed to be just slowly walking around the park as though in a daze.
I noted in my mind that it seemed odd for such a crowded place to be so quiet and orderly. Amusement Parks are usually very rowdy and rambunctious places but this one was eerily silent.
People behind me were now leaving the "hostel." They pushed me forward, away from the door and onto the now concrete "deck" clearing the doorway (there was nothing hostile in their actions) and they seemed oblivious of my presence.
As a group they turned to the left as if knowing where they were going and so I decided to follow them (or I did follow them -- it seemed like the thing to do but I don't recall actually making the decision).
As we walked I looked around and the place was magnificent! Above us was an arched glass dome that spanned the entire park without a seam. I seemed to be on the far west side of the park towards the top of the domed encampment. Below us, the main floor resembled the patched fields one sees from an airplane.
We trundled on (this seems like the right word because even though we were walking it was as if we were rolling along, or better perhaps being rolled along -- although I sensed no external pressure to move onward we just did as if on a conveyor belt) until at last we arrived at a lift (elevator) and came to a halt.
The lift doors opened by themselves with a gentle swoosh and we walked on board. The enclosure was made of some sort of plexiglass so fine as to be invisible on all sides and above but the floor was carpeted in green and resembled freshly mowed grass. I was tempted to touch the sides to confirm they were even there but thought better of it.
Without notice the lift began to drop rapidly and I felt a tad nauseous so stepped away from the windows and back toward the door. Soon with a swishing sound the lift stopped and the doors opened. I turned to leave but noticed the others were not moving so I too paused uncertainly.
Three people -- two men and a woman -- were standing at the door as it opened. They were dressed in identical white outfits that looked like a cross between nursing and military uniforms. As they leaned in toward us I tried to back away from them but could not because the lift was filled to capacity. There was a peculiar odor coming from the threesome that I could not identify but which frightened me for some inexplicable reason. As the two men closely watched us the woman began placing postage-stamp size adhesives on people's upper right arms. One man looked at her quizzically and she smiled an empty smile, "You need this to enjoy the park and get back in." That seemed to satisfy him and he accepted the adhesive patch.
I eased myself just behind him. As the "nurse" turned to one of the men accompanying her for another patch I placed my hand over my shoulder as if curiously feeling the plastic coated patch (which I had not actually received) and the nurse seemed to assume she had already "stamped" me and moved on. Soon the doors closed and the lift continued down to the main floor.
My red shirt had short sleeves but I somehow managed to pull the sleeve down enough to conceal the absence of the "entry stamp."
When the lift doors opened I quickly walked out thinking to run for safety but soon realized that just made me conspicuous. I forced myself to slow down and approximate the dazed shuffle of my semi-zombified peers.
In the distance I could see an opening in the wall and beyond that was daylight. Real daylight, not the artificial light that I now realized illumined the domed amusement park. While there was no way to be certain, it appeared that was the exit and I shuffled toward it. The only problem with my plan was that on either side of the opening stood three black-clad soldiers (without insignia but clearly military). As I watched I noticed that one of the rides, a small train, ran past between the soldiers and out of the dome. As far as I could tell its occupants were not being searched. Keeping the railroad tracks in sight I made my back toward the center of the amusement park looking for the train station where the ride began.
As I made my way through the park I was somewhat surprised to notice that while not everyone was wearing Bavarian dress like I was, most of the people did seem to wearing traditional cultural costumes that had, due in part to globalization, become obsolete. Today most everyone in the world wears the same basic clothing style.
The various areas I had seen from above that resembled the quilt-like patches one sees from an airplane, I now understood, were actually themed sub-parks. It now appeared that each cultural group had its own park within the greater amusement park. Doubtless the other people from my "hostel" had gone to a Bavarian park. Although my ancestry is mainly Welsh I now understood why I had been dressed in the lederhosen. Oddly enough that realization made me feel more calm. At least there seemed to be some method to this madness!
As I followed the tracks for what seemed like hours I finally entered an area that might best be described as a shantytown. The buildings looked like the old slave quarters still extant in parts of the US South or the migrant worker shacks of the West. Most of the people in this area seemed to be of African ancestry and most were almost naked. The women were all topless and many of the men (and women) wore nothing but scant colorless loin cloths such as one might see in old issue of National Geographic Magazine. On the "porches" of many of the shanties men were passed out seemingly drunk with empty bottles of Wild Turkey littering the area. That seemed to be the only brand. I walked onto one of the porches and picked up a bottle. Although I'm not a drinker I could smell that this wasn't alcohol at all but something else. There was a smell that I remembered. It was the same odor I had sensed from the nurse on the lift! Only now apparently in liquid form.
I left that compound and continued walking. The fact that none of the white uniformed workers asked me what I doing or why I was not in the Bavarian park never crossed my mind. They ignored me and I avoided them.
In time I came to another area. There I found people I suppose would best be described as 1960's era "hippies." They were mainly Caucasians but there were other racial groups as well, especially Blacks. They were male and female and many sported flowers in their long hair (and preposterously massive afros); beaded necklaces and peace signs adorned their necks ... all the stereotype accouterments that belong more to 60's fiction than period fact. They were all stoned out of their minds and a cloud of what was doubtless supposed to be pot hung perpetually in the air around them. Some of the hippies were unconscious from it while others sat staring off into the distance oblivious of their surroundings. Some of the hippies were having sex in the bushes but like the others without any passion, any life... That was the main feature of all the areas. There was never any "there there." As with the Wild Turkey that was not, neither the cloud nor the joints and pipes from which the hippies toked were really marijuana! It was that same mysterious "something else." Ragged filthy little kids were passed out along with their stoned parents and excrement was every where. It was a truly disgusting sight to behold and a mockery of everything the real hippies had tried to accomplished.
As I left the area I tried to keep my eyes focused on the ground before me. I didn't want to see any more disturbing sights, but just then a group of Hare Krsna devotees sauntered by on hari nam mechanically singing their mantras but without any enthusiasm or spirit... As they passed I noticed that needles were dangling from their arms and I knew somehow that what they had been injected with the same chemical "something else" as the rest.
I then heard the singing of a monotonous choir and turned to see a group of Christians sitting in neatly ordered folding chairs on a blood red carpet before a huge screen. Their eyes were glazed and they waved their arms mechanically in the air singing the words that were printed on the screen before them. It occurred to me that the words could be anything. To them it didn't matter. That same smell lingered in the air and I saw its source, a priest swinging a censure of contaminated incense. I moved on.
Next I came to a group of Muslims who were passing around a paper bag. Each in turn buried his or her face in it and breathed deeply like kids foolishly sniffing airplane glue. As I approached one of the Muslims passed me the bag and ordered me to breath from it. I tentatively sniffed the contents and smelled the same odor. I shook my head and walked away.
As I walked on I began to smell something different, something vile and repugnant. Although I tried not to breath it in -- there was something disturbingly familiar about the odor -- I was drawn inescapably toward its source. Before me I saw a series of large shiny metal crematoria ovens on maroon brick bases. Thousands of Jews, perhaps millions, were standing in unimaginably long lines waiting for something -- waiting for the ovens -- but I sensed they did not know for what. As they stood I heard them debating so many things with one another. Some wearing long Peyot, full jet black beards and black clothing were debating with short haired men without beards (many of whom wore business suits and looked immaculately well-coiffed) the legitimacy of Israel's very existence seeing as how the Moshiach has not yet come. Others said Israel must be a Jewish state while yet others countered that that would be disastrous since so many Jews are not religious. They all seemed to be oblivious of the ovens they were approaching -- except some very old Jews who seemed resigned to the fact as if they knew this day was coming all their lives... I then began to perspire profusely and before my eyes my life-long recurring dream played on the screen of my consciousness for the umpteenth time. As always I could do nothing but watch it unfold.
Finally I was released from the dream within this dream and found myself standing in line for the train ride that I hoped would take me to the exit and away from this nightmare.
The three people who ran the ride (again two men and a woman), like most of the others who worked there wore the standard white nursing/military uniforms. As I reached the front of the line they were smiling brightly (if emptily) and the woman wished me "a most excellent trip" as one of her companions escorted me to my seat. As he secured the "safety bar" that dropped down "for my protection" he leaned over me and I could smell the same odor I so often had whiffed in this odd amusement part. The odor was still disturbing but I now realized it didn't bother me as much as it had before. Indeed, there was something almost pleasant about it and despite my lingering concerns I breathed it in with a sigh of almost-pleasure. "Almost" I told myself.
The man with the interesting fragrance then reached down and rattled the bar at my waist, confirming it was in the safe and locked position for my protection. Noting that the bar now firmly held me safely in the seat he smiled at me and despite my wishes I helplessly smiled back. (I still didn't like the place but that didn't mean all the workers were bad people, I told myself. They mean well.). He then moved his hand from the bar to my leg and up under my lederhosen and stroked my penis a few times with an open sigh of enjoyment.
"Please don't do that," I said quietly, frankly without much resolve. My skin crawled at his touch. He looked at me with a question in his eyes and rolled up my shirt sleeve.
"Ah he said," and motioned for the woman working the next car. She came over and shook her head, "It happens some times," she said with a thick Bavarian accent as she produced one of the postage-stamp patches from her pocket.
I uselessly tried to explain that I didn't need the patch, that I had already been stamped but that it had fallen off... but it was as though to her I wasn't even there. I was trapped beneath the safety bar so could not move but I covered my arm with a hand and said "No please." My no sounded as if it came from the bottom of a deep well... noooooooo Pllaath...
The man then securely took my wrists and held them in my lap with both his hands while his fingers toyed with my penis through the lederhosen and the woman administered the patch and I inwardly screamed in horror.
I glanced at his hands and then back up at the woman preparing to complain when she said to him, "I think he likes it yah?" and pressed the adhesive patch onto my arm waiting for it to set.
"Yah he does, don't you my little leipshin?" I wasn't sure if they meant I liked his creepy touch or the patch. I didn't like either!
The patch was actually a little larger than a postage stamp. It was white and had a tab along the top that was used to remove the backing and activate the active ingredient. The tab featured two repeating symbols, the first was green x shaped falling snow flakes, the second were red crude Christmas trees made of dashes. It looked as though each tab of the drug was cut from large sheets, presumably by a machine as the edges were perfectly straight.
"Have a nice trip leipshin," the man repeated once the patch was securely in place. He kissed my forehead tenderly, then slapped me harshly across the face as the ride began moving.
My face stung from his slap, I was light headed and felt very stoned but as quickly as possible I again began tearing at the accursed patch, ripping it from my skin. As I pulled it loose the adhesive was stringy and difficult to remove but I finally got it off. I tossed it over the edge of the car with an effort because the glue clung to my fingers as if refusing to let me go.
I hadn't noticed it before but like with large roller coasters there were four joined seats to each car of the ride. Perhaps fifteen or twenty such rows were in our train and every seat was occupied.
As I worked at the patch I realized the man sitting beside me (I had an end seat) was watching me with passing interest. "Get yours off too!" I slurred at him. My voice was groggy and still had that deep-in-a-well tone to it.
Smiling sickly sweet he looked at me quizzically and said, "Why do that? This is most excellent; enjoy the ride my man."
I couldn't believe my ears! He actually liked being imprisoned! "Look we're...." I began but my words and my consciousness were now drifting surely away and I began to feel happy... VERY happy. Everything WAS sweet and fine and right with the world..
More as a kid mindlessly picking at a scab now than as a man struggling for his conscious mind I continued working on my patch and finally got it off just we were approaching the "exit" I had seen earlier. I felt a little sad to realize that I would soon be leaving the amusement park. A tear even slipped from my eye but perhaps it was from my stinging face... but perhaps not.
Whereas the white uniformed workers in the amusement park had seemed non-threatening, even nice, the black uniformed ones by the door seemed to seethe with contempt for us. As we approached the exit I slowly began to reclaim my senses. I was afraid the soldiers would stop the train, realize that I had again removed my patch and that they would, what, beat us? Kill us? That didn't seem so bad...
As we approached the exit and I began to mentally obsess about what the soldiers might do if they discovered my patch was gone, the sun light began to torment my eyes. I was blinded by the light and could see nothing but shadows. My eyes and indeed my whole body hurt, burned, I was nauseous. I wanted to vomit but could not. And then...
... And then I awoke to the sound of an alarm clock... but... we don't use alarm clocks...
I rolled over in the bed and beside me was a naked woman!
She opened her eyes, "Good morning darling," she said.
I jumped out of the bed and backed away from her in horror. Who the hell was she!!!!
She looked at the erection I was sporting and licked her lips licentiously, like an animal desiring to consume me both body and soul.
"Come back to bed leipshin" she purred.
Its just the meds lover, you'll get used to them. You'll love your new life... Now come back to bed..."
But I turned and ran from our room into the next room. It was the same hostel as before. I looked out over the park, ran through the door and dove from the deck into the blinding light and deafening noise of the Amusement Park below....
And awoke falling to my death.
What does this mean?
MAYBE its a warning that medicines are now being intentionally contaminated with mood altering drugs. There are many reports suggesting this is sometimes the case.
Maybe its a reminder that we live in an almost completely controlled Matrix-like environment and are oblivious even of who we really are.
Maybe its just a weird dream...
If you have any thoughts on this I invite you as always to Contact me at AllFaith.com or through my blogs.
You are visitor number...
Who cares, I'm glad YOU'RE here!
Who cares, I'm glad YOU'RE here!
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