Category: DREAMS

We’re getting ready to leave the briefing room of the Enterprise (D). A serious mission is at hand.

Commander Riker is describing the details to “myself” and a few, two or three, others, saying how we’re gonna have to splinter into smaller groups and roust “them” out, because they are bold and will attack with that selfsame boldness, leaving them vulnerable, making an opportunity for himself and/or Captain Picard to strike or get something done.

I see, as we’re leaving the room, my sister is one of the other team members? or just her form. equipped with a kind of mega hand-phaser and a one-handed axe, sheathed at her thigh. I merely have a standard issue phaser.

We transport to the surface of some planet. It is a massive open area, possibly the dimensions and size of two iwl football fields, and it is all ruins. Dark, not ruins from time, but from siege.

I’m on the outskirts, high-ish up in what are arranged like bleachers – king like being at a school football game – with a vantage where i can look down and see the entirety of the ruins, but logistically im taking secure cover, hiding out (from “the enemy”)

There is a little nook near the very top where i am stooped low

I suddenly can sense some life below, out in the ruins, some activity – but at the same time someone comes casually up the risers, almost exactly to where i am but they do not detect me.

I stoop a little closer to the structure as an ornately adorned Klingon, majestically stands and plants himself just on the other side of this partition in the risers between us.

He, in a stoic pose, is looking out over the ruins (or battlefield?), almost with an air of satisfaction. (Maybe things are going well – or maybe it’s just that he can be here to witness the [glorious] battle – he is a Klingon after all.)

Suddenly i see the Klingon become stricken and fall, dramatically, dead

The blow seems to have come from somewhere far off, but not too far off.

After he falls, i realize/remember than in getting here the battery fell out of my phaser (and even in dream it felt sort of like a wtf-moment, b/c phasers don’t operate like that, with simply batteries that can just pop in and out, but sure enough), i look into the small compartment where the battery goes and have a vague flashback of a memory of hearing something drop earlier.

“How foolish!” i quietly think-feel, and i begin to make to go back and retrace my steps, going down this narrow hidden side corridor or stairwell, when suddenly i notice another Klingon, again ornately dressed and adorned, slowly come up to where the other was before.

I stay stock still and remain unnoticed. This Klingon behaves in the same way as the one before him, but there’s something different. That sense of satisfaction seems more palpable, or pleasure(?)

He’s just standing there for a moment and nothing happens.

From where I’m posted i can just see the top, back-top, and back of his head, like before. and it’s not a regular Klingon hairstyle; it’s basically the same except that instead of being long long and straight, it’s long dreadlocks.

The 1st man’s hair was all black, this one, his dreadlocks seem to be an even intermix of black & white strands, that themselves are as thick as slender fingers.

After a few moments another one comes up and stands to the right of the one with the salt & pepper locks, his hair more the usual jet black.

They are standing side-by-side but the right one a little lower on the riser below. They’re looking out together in silence.

Another comes up with the same dignified air about him, differently ordained but still ornate. He’s a lighter skinned Klingon, and his hair seems to be mostly white dreadlocks with some black strands dispersed here and there.

From this vantage – as theyre queuing up in this way, an invisible crown seems to lift form the previous one’s head, and alight over to the right onto the next one’s head in succession.

At first i thought they were doing some kind of gesture with their hands, but it was a subtle motion of the dreadlocks that made them look as if some diadem was being lifted from around them, and placed on the subsequent head.

This goes on as two or three more queue up, all slightly descending stair-by-stair as the crown lands on the newcomers in turn.

I begin to get that sense of unease from being hemmed in, but i dont feel in danger. And actually i feel a curious sense of calm, almost as if i’m suddenly part of something, the likes f which i neither know nor understand.

A female presence is suddenly existent to my left, not at all visible from this vantage, but it is quiet yet STRONG, and even though the presence is right there, it seems to have an everywhereness about it.

She is saying things – not quite words? – with an air of proclamation or decree.

The row of Klingon men seem to all be giving her their attention, though not necessarily enrapt.

One of the Klingons i notice suddenly has his head turned a bit to the left and i see is looking right at me. Im only slightly taken aback/caught off guard, but otherwise feel the same sense of calm, and this feeling is also mixed now with curiosity, as the light-skinned Klingon is looking at me with these sort of “Well, well, well…” wizenedly knowing eyes.

The speech/proclamation is mounting in fervour and feeling in the whole air of the area.

I see another one of the Klingons briefly glance back at me, with the same feeling but more briefly.

I feel something, like i have to move soon, but i dont really know why, or how for that matter.

Im in a darkened stairwell along the backs of the risers. There are railings on either side and i grab them with either hand tightly, getting ready to make motion to descend.

It looks a long way down to the final stair, and as i make this assessment i see, tiny from down there and looking directly up at me, another Klingon, dressed more in nondescript grey, much less ornate.

Seeing him looking up at me instills a feeling inside, or something jostles or rises within me and i stand up erect.

There is a windy silence for a moment, and i feel the female presence notice me, but there is not fluctuation in the rhythm or pattern of her action.

I can discern words. Shes talking of…great shift / movement. The something thats about to happen.

I dont see her at all – almost as if theres no body there, but a definitive presence for sure, with force and personality and gesticulation, and reckoning.

I can sense more people, no doubt Klingons, way on the other side of this structure, all with that same feeling; it’s a gathering! One that was planned some time ago.

The Presence is coming to the conclusion of her speech, and in so doing, i feel her attention land on me and i hear her say clearly, “And i can personally vouch for this one!” in a grandiose and approving manner.

At that moment, with those closing words, as if in one great nod, all the Klingons start to disperse, the presence dissipates into the aether, and the entire structure starts to change form of its own accord. The stairwell turns into a long ramp made of iridescent glass or crystal. same for the other side. the whole ruins area is totally transformed into an immaculate and vast chamber of sorts; the ground itself is crystal, and everything seems to be glinting or sparkling in a light of unknown origin.

There isnt a single Klingon in sight, neither corporeally nor energetically. I begin to descend the ramp, slowly, leerily and somewhere jarred, with the feeling as it could have been totally another dimension, but my memories of it are vivid and keen.

As i get to the bottom of the ramp, commander Riker and Captain Picard are strolling past me, coming from my left. I can hear them having casual conversation and Picard says something like, “It was truly fascinating to see her behaving like a Jedi.”

At first im taken aback by this, and i wonder if he was referring to me at the Klingon summit. And suddenly i have a mini-flashback, of noticing the other side of the structure and sensing a different feminine presence! (Could that other side itself have been a split world (within a world)? An alter mirror image?)

In this same moment, as they are strolling away in conversation, im suddenly very aware that i am no longer operating on behalf of the Federation, and that with this really quite mystical happening i was essentially initiated into some other, more pure, side or faction or brotherhood, and that now there are people around me who may not take lightly or kindly to this change of game/mood were they to find out.

I begin to walk, not too briskly but with purpose and intention.

I veer right coming off of the ramp, going where i don’t know but somewhere i HAVE to go.

After a few steps i arrive at another slight ramp. As that it is along my certain path i simply begin up it without any thought or hesitation.

The ramp leads up to a circular platform some 5 to 7 feet off the main ground, and right as i arrive onto it, i hear Lt. Commander Worf exclaim triumphantly, “Right into our trap!”, leaping onto the platform from out of nowhere.

At the same time he lands on the platform, he raises a phaser rifle at me. In just the slightest beat after, i reach down for my own phaser, only to realize/remember that not only is there no battery, it’s somehow completely gone now anyway, and i’d merely slid my hand over the holster where it was. I raise my hand pointing nothing at him.

The slightest of smirks draws across Worf’s face. I also notice that he’s not wearing a Federation uniform, but rather something that seems more like civilian or mercenary dress.

I square up for melee combat, ready to dodge any phaser bolts he fires at me.

Suddenly another figure leaps onto the platform from my right, right toward me and they attempt a blow.

I barely manage to dodge his attack. I square up again and take a stance for the briefest of moments, and i see that this new combatant is Wesley Crusher.

There’s barely a moment to process anything and we dash toward one another. I take a swing which he deftly avoids, instantly rebutting with a lightning fast right hook which i just manage to block by throwing my arms in front of my body as a shield.

All at once, i realize that had i not blocked that blow, it would have wrecked me, because it sends me sliding backward several feet until i topple off the platform.

Very ungracefully i manage to land on my feet, and im looking up at the two of them, both smirking and haughty.

I realize with unsettling certitude that this is a fight i cannot win right now, and i angle to make swift retreat.

Dreamt Norbert was getting married AGAIN, and i was the best “man” again, but i had been racing or something, and forgot my shoes and the tux jacket in my car — nobody was upset (that I could tell) but i felt a little bad

~ ~ ~

Hiding under (literal bed) covers with a girl, her left hand glowing with orange fire. trying to help her tone it down by talking to her, says something like “I doesnt usually just stay on like that.”

A malicious witch is pursuing us. Our hiding place [loc] changes f__rlly from a rocky and wooded area to an under-the-floorboards area in the witch’s house.

I have an ability to see through physical material, so I see this, and also am keeping watch for the witch’s movements.

She looks around some- outside there have been FF⏩ time lapses too – and she’s getting ready for bed.

Realize i am in my maternal grandmother’s kitchen, semi-under the table (x-axis) under a cover like the Elven cloak Sam and Frodo used passing by Mordor

She goes to the bathroom, which is a little askance into the bedroom

Once she’s on the toilet and the door closes, my companion and I spring up, gather some things off the coat rack by the front door and rush out into the night with glee and relief

Just awoke from the dream of climbing up then down this precarious narrow staircase to a squat in an alley that was in a forest. it was like i had entered a portal from the city (getting the sensation now in waking that i danced the portal into existence.)

as i am gallivanting throughout the town with no destination in mind wearing only these loincloth type underwear and a small backpack-like satchel.

The thing is, that going up the staircase is completely accidental, but more like that feeling w hen you’re driving somewhere but a memory or something in your brain makes your arms and hands start driving somewhere else – an old dwelling that on’es moved from, a former lover’s house that was so natural to angle toward.

as i’m approaching and beginning my ascent of the stairs on all fours, which at first don’t seem as dangerous, more like ancient and welcoming stone, crisscrossed mostly with wild morning glory vines trailing upward, all the while i can hear some faint music from an everywhereish nowhereness that could be the innermost chamber of my mind and informing the woods around me. and at the same time i can hear my own voice, with the same nebulous distance, talking, to someone, as if in an interview from the future, talking about this very moment, of the woods and climbing up the stairs and over the vines. i hear them refer to them as moon flowers over and over again, tho they do no seem like moonflowers at all, rather the intermittent flowers are the vibrant royal purple of most morning glories one may find in the city, and they are in half wilt.

i realize my phantom destination / accidental detour once i get to the top to the landing to the apartment. i can hear friendly voices inside. (i don’t understand why i’m swelling up with tears right now as i write this)

It seems three or four people, communing in a kitchen or cooking together there perhaps. laughing and their conversation even turns to the staircase and how they can usually tell when someone’s arriving.

Their awareness doesn’t change my bearing, but rather the notion of having taken a wrong turn. and, like perhaps a climber who has taken the wrong route, i start to descend back down in the same position, using all fours.

the staircase is now all wood, old rotted grey brown planks, many broken away to the point that it doesn’t make sense that i should have even gotten this far up(?), and with each placement of hand or foot, a note in the song plays, the same song as before but now it is full and rich, the only sound. and that former sensation has transformed – i feel, this feeling, like when you part from someone dear and you know it will be a long long time before you see them again; concomitant with another melancholy sense of…being somewhere where one doesn’t have a place. hard to put down in word; like going to a place where there are ghosts, but one is still mortal.

getting to the bottom there is a high cello note, and i have mind to press on the way i was going, but it is seemingly shrouded in the darkness of the thick of the wood; i merely pause at the bottom as the note rings on.