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"Programming" gone hilariously wrong

Morning March 15, 2014. Saturday.

Sometimes when more precise “programming” (a special method of dream scripting I have practiced for years) meanders off (even after a few hours “in state” but while fully conscious) and remains in residual patterns, the result is somewhat amusing. This happens now and then due to the fact I do not presently have the setup near the bed to remain in the special phrasing flow while going in and out of sleep.

As I have stated before, I do not normally include deliberate precision dreams - as that would be highly unfair for “normal” people (especially those who are completely unaware of the possibilities or methods), only ones with very loose and indirect foundations of the phrasing/special waveforms, such as solely “universal mind”, and those based on very general ideas lacking more detailed symbolism. As someone else said years ago, real-time flow is the most powerful and viable - that is - the speed at which a person consciously but internally “speaks”. Although the brain is supposedly capable of extremely fast manifestation, real-time event linking (that is, real-time “pulsing”) is the best, I think, rather than hyper-accelerated sessions.

However, even so, I usually get the programmed dream in a fair number of automatic and extremely fast (and accurate) practice runs before any potential variation is “grown” from wherever. In this case (in the original) the setup was fine but somewhat disorienting in the evening prior to the next day when everything meandered off into general hilarity. In the practice runs, the twelve multicolored butterflies eventually encircled (horizontally) the area so swiftly that they created a clear impression of a helicopter rotor - in fact, a subtle sound of a rotor was vaguely discernible later on during some sort of liminal transitional period where the “barrier” is active, almost like a front (weather term - “the interface between air masses of different temperatures or densities”) of the kind that results in a breeze. In such a case it is you making the dream rather than the dream making you - I guess an interesting way to put it.

Having seen “dreams in the making” change into something else and having a grasp on how that works has taught me a lot. Normally, there is unlikely any association between butterflies and helicopters in the mind of the average person - but sometimes transitions are seemingly speed-based or “blur-based” as well as mirrored duplication in radial symmetry - something I noticed years ago and is probably how the cylindrical “tunnel of light” is manifested in NDEs…and, as another poster pointed out some time back, you do not have to die (or even be close to death in any way) to experience that level of extended bliss. (I should know; otherwise I would have died as a toddler.) Ironically, the “worm” was shown as a negative implication (Hell) in the movie “The Frighteners” (1996) - implying the NDE tunnel was then the inside of the giant worm, plus people associate the white worm with the dragon aka Satan, and of course you have Poe’s “The Conqueror Worm”.

I digress (again). Now for the actual purpose of this entry…

At the beginning of this dream, I am working at the Ford Taurus-based factory I had in reality years ago. The area seems to be the upstairs lunchroom though seems on the first floor in the dream. Awards are being given out based on service to the company. I am mostly on my own at one picnic table, but there are several other people in the room. Apparently I am in waste management and garbage disposal of some sort and there is a speech of appreciation for my service and how I have been rewarded with a new trash compactor for upcoming usage in my service to the company. (In reality, this is the compactor that exists on the southern end of the building - much scrap went out every day - probably as much as three cars or more in volume - though I did not work in any position relative to that at any time.)

I am given an award in the same manner as a few other people. The trophy award looks like a horse’s saddle stirrup but larger and bent at somewhat of an L-shape, and is somehow pulled from the corner of the wall. It is an allover shiny silver. I hold it and do not say much.

Later on, people are standing and I think a few more people come in, but then it is more like a class reunion of some kind. I leave the area with a male coworker, as it is seemingly a ten-minute break period. I ask him about who the people are but do not remember any coherent answers. I end up riding a black motorcycle through an area that I take to be the entrance to the special “magical” location (which I assume as fictional) I have often dreamed of in the past, and going in at the usual familiar angle from the original road. It seems to have somewhat of a dirt road at first, though, which I follow for a time, but then just steer through various dense areas of the forest. It is very vivid and enjoyable.

The coworker is still with me (probably having been on the back of the motorcycle, as I remember someone else yelling in enjoyment, with a few more stressful yells regarding near misses with trees). I am near some outcrops of rocks and unusually narrow mound-like areas about six feet up, which are climbable. I soon have to go to the bathroom, which is a bit strange. It is extremely rare for me to need to use a bathroom in a dream if I do not have to go in reality at the time (so rare, I can recall a similar dream only from childhood). I get the idea to actually do this from the edge of a ledge whereby there is a small ravine across from a much higher hill (about double the height to where I am) with a ledge of about the same distance up and an even denser forest on the opposite side on the hilltop. I look down and it is like looking into a narrow area between two walls about four feet apart, with a bit of shrubbery and such, but which arcs out in both directions towards the mound I am standing on.

Just as I start to get ready, I look around and down and notice a large white gorilla has entered the area. I am rather concerned, because, although I really do not want to hurt the ape, I really need to go to the bathroom and do not want an audience. I take out a rifle and notice the coworker is out of reach of the gorilla on a lower narrow outcrop of the mound, but the gorilla does not really seem threatening in any way at all. He tells me to shoot it in the head. I shoot it in the chest a few times, as well as the forehead and it goes down. However, a short time later, before I am able to relieve myself, it gets up again, slowly opening its eyes and calmly standing up and walking to the other side of the mound.

Obviously, I am very annoyed. Can a man go to the bathroom in peace? My rifle changes into a sort of simplified machine gun (based on some sort of thought of manifestation of such which I have in the background) and I start shooting at it again, over and over. The noise is not very loud, though, at least at first, but gets a bit louder prior to waking (and is also sounding more like a helicopter rotor). The white gorilla just stands there looking puzzled, yet not even remotely annoyed. The bullets are so numerous, the area in the air eventually forms a solid but transparent and ice-like horizontal waterfall-like effect from me to the gorilla. It sort of creates the impression that I am sending small cylindrical and transparent “probes” at the creature that apparently either have some sort of healing effect or are otherwise inconsequential. Not once does the gorilla seem angry or threatening in any way. So here I am, shooting and shooting and being inherently ridiculous. So much for a goddess-like indestructible “girl-illa” (facepalm) in a white gown in a “magic” forest. Blargh! Fail! The white gorilla was a form of the goddess that I did not, for whatever reason, coherently absorb in my meager brain at the time. The gun in this case, however, was indeed a transference of energy rather than one of killing, confirmed by the small rapidly moving (and spinning while moving) transparent and ice-like cylinders (which normally means the Source rebuilding or recreating something or even “solidifying” what is already there).

For those who do not already know, the “enchanted forest” or personal “place of power” is a representation of the Enchanted Forest from Harvey Comics (Casper and Wendy, etc.) from my childhood - which I had always thought was the perfect source for dream manifestation and endless unique potential.

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