Tag Archives: Dreams

Superman can’t help us!

(original date: ??,1997)
Superman can’t help us
He’s in a wheelchair now.
It’s not his fault,
we should have learned
To take care of ourselves.

Where are our superheroes?
Now, when we need them the most.

Superman can’t help us
Who can save us now

Part of the feeling that I got with this dream (when Christopher Reeves had his accident) was that ‘Superman’ couldn’t help us now. I took this to mean that society’s inability to be responsible for its actions has left us defenseless. By relying on mythical imagery (tv stars, tv characters) to solve our societal turmoil, we have lost our self-reliance. Life does imitate art! Our needs are satisfied (more like – put off) by what we see in the movies. We make heroes of movie stars and professional athletes rather than looking within. Social leaders and members of our community are larger than life and can be a better role model & ‘superior’ mentors.

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I’m not a dummy!!

(original written: May 12,1997)
Why would God punish me this way??
This is such a harsh punishment for someone so young!

All I wanted was to be like the other kids. I just wanted to be an average kid. I wanted to lead a simple, mundane life – nothing special! I wanted to go to high school, go to the prom and move on with the rest of my life! I didn’t want to be treated differently and I don’t want all the kids staring at me!

Some people say that in between lives we choose what life to enter into next. We choose a life that will challenge us and allow us to fulfill goals so that our soul can progress to the next level. I wonder if that is what normally happens between lives. I wonder why I chose to enter this one?

On my quest for an everage life, I asked my parents to enroll me into a softball league. They were afraid, but conquered their fears and did it. I’m beginning to regret it! They are so harsh! They want me to do well. They want it more than I do.They push so hard – I sometimes wonder what they did to deserve this. Who did they make mad in a past life, to have to endure this life with me as their son? What did I do to make my parents mad?

I think I know what it was – but it was an accident! I didn’t mean to drop the ball. The coach puts me in right field. He wants me to do well, but doesn’t want to see me fail – so he gives me an easy position. All the kids say, “that’s a good spot for the dummy. Keep him out there!”

I’m no DUMMY!

But one day my chance came! The ball was coming right towards me. I tell myself “this is your chance. Show them what you can do! Show them how normal you really are.” I guess I was trying too hard. I was concentrating so hard on showing them… I showed them all right.

The soft, white ball was rolling just right! The threads were swirling and swirling in a slow motion dance. It was so sweet – spinning with the grace of a ballerina, and coming right towards me. The ball was high in the air and had a technologically precise trajectory, like a Patriot missile ready to hit its mark…

It seemed to approach me at a snail’s pace, though. So nice and slow, so peaceful that my mind wondered off into something else. I wondered off for what seemed like hours. I started to daydream. I never realized how beautiful the blue sky really is; nor how billowy the clouds seemed to be; nor how they swell up and turn dark right before a thunderstorm. I never realized how beautiful my mother’s blue eyes really are – or how swollen her sorrow seems to be when she cries. I wondered what makes her cry. I started to wonder why so many beautiful babies were being dumped in the trash like wilted lettuce. Or why mothers would abort a fetus just because he will be born with Down Syndrome. That does not sit right with me. There is no excuse for our inhumanity…

And that’s when it hit me. It hurt so bad!! That ball hit me dead on, like a sniper’s bullet – right between the eyes. All that planning and all that peacefulness was shattered like a tempered piece of glass. Little bits and pieces of my life all exposed, just laying on the floor – next to that soft, white ball I was supposed to catch. Forget the crowd screaming! Forget my teammates calling out to me to “pick it up!”

It is perfectly clear now. Forget it all – it no longer seemed to matter! I AM a no-good DUMMY!!! I don’t deserve to be here!

I am no longer ‘here.’ It all seems dark and cold and I’m very hungry. Where did everybody go!? This place seems so isolated and bleak. I don’t like being trapped in here – but I quess I deserve it. I deserve to be trapped here in my own world.

I miss my friends. I wish I could be out there playing with them. They are not so mean to me anymore – now that they know me better. We were going to play baseball today. We were going to make believe that we were major league ball players, like Babe Ruth or Mickey Mantle, but I guess I deserve this punishment. I did embarrass them. I should have caught that ball.

My best friend said it was an easy fly ball, and that I should have caught it – but he comforts me by saying that I will do it next time. I miss being comforted by him. He knows just what to say to make me feel better.

I wish my parents did. They don’t talk much anymore.

This dream seems to have had a great impact on me. My wife tells me that I was crying in the middle of the night. Sobbing so hard & with such fear that she was afraid I was experiencing a horrible nightmare. But it did not feel like a nightmare. It did hurt me a lot and I do have strong feelings for what was happening in my dreams. It felt almost like a pastlife experience.

It seemed very real and almost as if I was really living through this – living the life of a blond Down-Syndrome boy about 12-14 yrs old. Sorta stodgy and very energetic. His life was so full of sunny days and billowy clouds, but off the horizon there was this one dark cloud he did not understand.

His realization that he was retarded hit him like a bullet. He was not aware why he was different until that moment. And the pain of that realization is what drove him into his darkness.

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Traffic Jam

This dream starts with me trying to get from Ft. Lauderdale to W.Palm Beach. I have Marcelo with me and I feel a strong sense of urgency to complete the trip. We start off in a truck driving up I-95. The voyage seems to be fraught with problems.

The truck starts to breakdown & I get runned off I-95 into a ghetto kind of neighborhood. I get back on the highway & then the truck turns into a car as we speed up I-95. The car gets a flat & I need to get off the highway to get gas as well. At the rest stop I go into the gas station & everything seems out of place. It looks very Russian. The lady behind the counter looks like a rustic Eastern-European ‘Helga’ stereotypical character. I walk up to the refrigerator & pull out a Pepsi. I can only tell it’s a Pepsi from the logo because the words are in Slavic on one side & Arabic on the other side of the bottle. I pay for my drink & get back into the car.

We start driving up I-95 again and feel like we have been driving for hours literally fighting the traffic. The traffic is very tough & I am fighting my way thru traffic. Then all of a sudden the car turns into a tricycle. I am pedaling as fast as I can & am keeping up with the cars, but feel as I am not getting anywhere. At this point I’m feeling helpless & the goal seems far out of my reach.

I decide to call Mercy to pick us up. She arrives and meets us back at the same rest stop. Again I go inside. The people inside are staring at me. Things feel strange. I step outside & I see Mercy carrying Marcelo on her arms. She is passing him along to a man, whom I’ve never seen before. He puts Marcelo into a white Chevy Monte Carlo. I get very anxious & run to get Marcelo out of the car. I push the man out of the way & I get Marcelo out. I am horrified to see that Marcelo has been dead & shrink wrapped into an air tight bag. I scream at the horror & try to get him out.

It is very strange to see a body dehydrated. I carry him inside the store crying and screaming for help. The people in the line ignore my pleas for help. I call to the lady at the counter to call 911 and she ignores me. The last lady in line calls out to her down syndrome older child. She tells him not to look at us. “It’s not polite to stare.”

What a horrible feeling of helplessness! I wake up from my dream crying & feeling that there is nothing I can do to improve my situation.

Dreams are supposed to be a subconscious reflection of your daily life. So with this in mind & I will try to analyze the dream. The sense of urgency & not being able to reach a destination might be due to a feeling of frustration with my career. The feeling of helplessness & hopelessness might be an indication of what I have been feeling lately. I have two houses to design & I have no desire to do so. I do not have any inspiration or desire to design them. Now to psycho-analyze myself, I guess that my indecision & inactivity is, in my dream, affecting my relationship with my family & I am feeling, sub-consciously, that if I do not fulfill my goal I will not be able to care for nor provide for my family.

The vehicles that I am using are not getting me where I want to be. Each one gets progressively smaller and slower. This maybe that I am depending on them to do for me what I need to do myself. I even try o get Mercy to “do it” for me. The part where Mercy passes Marcelo off to the stranger feels like Mercy is working against me. In the dream she is not contributing to accomplishing my goals. Marcelo is dehydrated because I have failed to provide for him.

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Where’s My Stuff?

Last night was a major dream night. Like normal, I had several dreams one after the other.

1st one was that robbers devastated our home. Everything we owned was gone. In my dream I woke up in the middle of the night, went downstairs to find that everything was gone. Our personal belongings, and my computers. I can’t believe that everything is gone! My life, my work, my home – what an empty feeling.

The strange thing about this dream is that I really value my family more than my belongings, yet in the dream Mercy & Marcelo were still asleep. They were Ok – and possibly not a concern, because in my dream that was not even a thought in my mind.

This dream comes after another dream I had a few days ago.

I was frozen by fear. I hear somebody jiggling the door of our bedroom balcony. I wake up and see their shadows but I can’t get up! I am frozen in my bed full of fear & hatred. Then I notice that I am talking to myself (Me asleep talking to me in the dream). I am telling myself to “get up, move – you need to stop them before they get in and hurt your family” just then I wake up, look at the door and realize that there was nobody there. I went downstairs & everything was fine. It was just a dream.

The scary part is that I can’t tell the difference between my dreams & reality. Only after analyzing them can I discern the real from my dreams. I woke up, got our of bed and went downstairs to confirm that everything was alright.

This seems to be a reoccurring dream. Always feel that somebody is trying to break into my home or that someone is watching me while I sleep. Several times I awake to the sound of metal crashing or glass breaking. But nothing – nowhere. I’ve talked with several neighbors & they did not hear anything overnight. I must be dreaming this and being awoken by my dream.

The Dream Doctor calls this type of dream “Night Terror” dreams caused by total darkness in the room & a subconsious fear of the dark.

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La Cosa Nostra

The 2nd dream tonight hit me hard. This night had to do with the Sopranos, but with no less a realistic feeling. I feel all the same feelings and even can’t tell what is real or a dream until I get up and touch my real environment. Weird huh!??

I met up with Tony Soprano. One day, while driving with my family in the car, we get scraped by a taxi. The driver just runs off not even concerned what he has done. I get so mad & I mention this to Tony. He says I have to do something about it & he gets me worked up so bad, that I track down the taxi driver. I want to get back at this guy, but only think of small, childish ways. I see him taking groceries out of his trunk. I tell Tony that I am going to steal his groceries so that it affects him – but in a minor way ONLY. As I find out later, Tony has different ideas – more adventurous, more deadly.

I track the taxi driver down & follow him. Tony tells me to act at first opportunity. I get a chance at the next stoplight, but I hesitate & do not act, waiting for another opportunity. Tony follows behind me in a black Suburban (just like on the show) & I get the impression he is mad that I did not act. Next the cab stops at a gated warehouse. Tony wants me to act then & there, but I say no “there are many security guards around” & shrug it off. I back off & run off to the church across the street. I guess I must have had my family with me because we all walk in together. We sit down & soon I realize that this is actually a town meeting discussion – of all things – Tony Soprano and what to do about him. I then realize that Tony & Silvio had followed me into the church and are sitting 6 rows behind me to the right. He is steaming now – for I had dragged him into his own “condemnation.”

He gets madder then hell when somebody on stage stands up and shouts that Tony is a “sleazy Mobster & that he needs to be made to disappear” Tony gets up and shouts back. Silvio, taking this as a hint, jumps to his feet & shoots the guy on stage – shoots him dead! Then Silvio turns to the chorus & shoots at the gray-headed balding guy, while screaming – “bye bye Senator.” Silvio shuts him dead between the eyes!! Then he turns and shoots the guy standing next to me. Everybody is frozen in fear and a few seconds seen to be hours of slow motion movie track. All of a sudden the movie track speed up, like “The Matrix.” Slow motion is now fast track & everybody is running for their lives. I don’t see my family – where are they!!

I get dragged outside by the rushing crowd. As I get near the doors of the church, somebody pulls me out of the crowd – a bodiless set of arms. Again the Matrix slow motion kicks in & I realize that the doors are a pair of huge medieval heavy wooden doors, with chunky metal strap & big black metal rivets that bolt the door together. Now Matrix fast track hits & I am then pulled to the side of the foyer, to a dark corner where I get surrounded by Tony’s guys. “Tony wants to see you” they tell me & a mean looking thug in a tight black tee shirt & mustache strikes me in the chest.

I am now fast-tracked outside, near the Guarded warehouse. Tony tells me that I am part of the “family” now & that I better not let him down. I feel an empty feeling – how can I get involved with such a crowd; how can I do this to my family. He motions me with his eyes towards the warehouse & Silvio nudges me into action. All this is in a non-spoken language, but I clearly understand what they want me to do & what will happen if I don’t.

I guess it’s a culmination of my stereotypical ideas of mobsters, but it is now happening to me. All this time I am wondering where my family could be. I get nudged into the moment again & I find myself at the gates to this warehouse.

We rush the gate, while out of the corner of my eye I see Silvio greasing the gate guard. Again in Matrix-like slow motion I see five hundred dollar bills get handed to the guard one-by-one each slowly being placed on the hand of this black man. One hundred; two hundred; three hundred; four hundred; five…. Then a Matrix-like rush sweeps by and fast track action kicks in. We are now stabbing the taxi driver that cut me off & the guys (notice my familiarity with these thugs – I am in an ethereal state where I am no longer in control of myself & I associate myself with them. I am no longer the schmuck dragged into this, but I am a willing participant – I am one of them!!) are taking bag after bag out of his trunk. Only I realize that these bags were not groceries but tons of cash! The taxi driver, for some reason I now know this, is a runner for a rival gang & Tony used me to start the attack!

I seem to rebel against this & they start attacking me. Matrix-like I feel a beating going on around me & to me, but feel nothing. I see a guy punch me in the face. I see the Rocky Balboa scene where he is struck in the face & spins in slow-mo. Spit and blood flies from my mouth into the air at an extremely slow pace, but no feelings whatsoever. I hit the floor, my cheek slapping the pavement & slow bouncing away to again slap the pavement as if bouncing. While laying there I look up. I look to the right & finally see Mercy. I look to the left & there is Marcelito sitting on the floor, behind a picnic table, arms stretch – waiting for me- I need to hug him! Matrix like I kick all these thugs. Knock them out & I am twisting & turning in the air (again in a Matrix-like slow-mo) flying towards Marcelo. I pick him up & hug him, for I feel this maybe the last time. I now run with Marcelo to hug Mercy who is locked behind gates.

She is there alone surrounded by a hazy fog & only darkness behind her. These gates surround a swale with benches around the perimeter. I am standing at the gate when one of Tony’s guys unlocks it & lets me in. “Tony is waiting” he says.

I now find myself sitting in the ring of benches surrounded by a lot of people from the town meeting. I notice the morning dew accumulated on the blades of grass that surrounds us. All I can see is a spooky, ominous fog. This mist is very thick & humid. My chest is very tight & I am finding it hard to breath. Mercy is about 20 people to the right of me in another bench. She is crying for fear of her life & I feel it – I feel her pain. It was my fault she & Marcelo are here & it is my fault we are going to die! All of a sudden, shots ring out and one-by-one all the people around us are shot. Next I see (Matrix-like) a shot whirling towards us. With its smoke trail behind it, the bullet approaches me almost as a 1,2,3… get ready feeling. I am frozen in fear and it hits me in the head. The next one hits Marcelo in the chest (I am now overwhelmed with sorrow, anger, fear, RAGE & a father’s PAIN!!) Marcelo dies in my arms! His lifeless body, still sitting on my lap. Suddenly, somebody pulls me off the seat & I run towards Mercy. I no longer see anybody else around us. But I do see more shots coming at us. Mercy is hit in the arm, the legs, her chest, right shoulder and finally in the head! Her life-less body falls to the ground. OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE!!

I get hit again and fall on top of Mercy. HELP US LORD! For I feel Mercy starting to drift. I feel my body collapsing. My eyes – I can’t keep them open. They are closing & I can’t stop it. I now feel that I am regressing into myself – like the witch that Dorothy poured some water on- I feel like my soul is withdrawing within me. I am melting. NO THIS CANNOT BE! I feel death at by back & cannot shake it. Darker & darker is my life and further away is my existence.

They say that the body wakes you out of your sleep, right before you die – as a self-preservation mechanism. But I am still dreaming!! Mercy & Marcelo cannot be dead – this is a dream right!?? It has to be! GOD TELL ME IT IS. I need to help Mercy. I need to do something! My body is lifeless and there is so much darkness. I now float like a spirit as the only way to be able to move. I drift towards her face & tell Mercy that I love her & I will be there with her. She responds likewise, but in a faint voice. She is floating away!!! OH LORD I feel her spirit leaving her body & I feel her body go lifeless next to mine & I feel the cold waters of the river of death flowing between us. GOD HELP ME! Bye Mercy, Bye.

She drifts off towards heaven she is no longer with me! I look up and all I see is the black sky – its darkness only broken by the gray glowing spirits of all the people who are no longer here. They are drifting towards heaven looking down at me. It is my fault all this is happening.

Suddenly I get this warm sensation all over my body. I am not dead! I feel 20, 30, 40 bullets strike my legs, my back, my shoulders. But strangely enough, I feel no pain. GOD I feel them hitting me. What is going on! All of a sudden across the room I get this feeling – I feel a good white spirit calling for me. It is Marcelito’s spirit. Again this reoccurring Matrix-like shift drags me at light speed towards where his spirit is sitting. He is still here!! Thank you Lord! I get this warm feeling that the Lord has spared him from this horrible, senseless massacre. Along side of the bullets hitting my body & the kicks cracking my ribs, I start to feel a cold draft of rage & anger. I feel I need to do something about this. I need to get revenge against Tony!!

My mind starts to drift & I see myself, in the future, at this conference. I am on stage (I feel Marcelo next to me but I can’t see him) talking about mob crimes & activities.

I now hear a beeping of machines around me & I hear this echo of people talking. “Doctor, we are loosing him!” I call out to the doctor, BUT HE DOESN’T HEAR ME!! I am asking them “where is my son!??” but they do not hear me. I struggle to see what is going on but cannot open my eyes. What a horrible feeling of rage, loneliness and sorrow!

Anger and rage are my main feelings. Also I feel that this is real & that I have lost my family! I woke up, got out of bed and touched Mercy. Yes, she is warm & next to me. I went and felt Marcelo & was ecstatic that he was there. Even at this moment (hrs after waking up in the AM) I feel that pain and anger. I just talked to Mercy on the phone & Marcelo just nudged me, so I know they are alive and well, but cannot shake this feeling of doom & gloom. I feel that at any moment now he will be after me again. HELP ME UNDERSTAND THIS

Lets start figuring this out. Looking back it looks as if Tony had set me up.

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