From: 00jdbecktel@bsu-ucs.uucp
Newsgroups: alt.dreams
Subject: Enjoy these dreams. (Dream Poll)
Date: 8 Apr 92 19:56:37 GMT
Article-I.D.: bsu-ucs.1992Apr8.145637.5876


        I'm walking down a deserted country road.  It seems like someone
is with me.  The road is straight.  It's a dirt road.  The landscape is
flat.  The sky is dark, but not like a night sky, more like a tornado sky.
Ahead, floating a few feet above the path are 3 or 4 skeletons.
I become incredibly frightened, but then I realize that nothing in my
dream can hurt me.  The odd thing about this realization is that I never
actually realized that I was dreaming.  Anyway, I calmly approached the
skeletons--which were actually only half skeletons, they consisted of only
skull and ribs, possibly arms.  Without any fear, I told the skeletons that
I wanted to ask them some questions.  They complied.  I asked them
questions, and they responded.  The most annoying, anticlimactic part is
that I can't remember what I asked or what answers they gave.

Despite my inability to recall the conclusion of the dream, it was still
very satisfying.  The technique of confronting a dream aggressor comes from
the Senoi of Malaysia, specifically from the book, "Creative Dreaming," by
Patricia Garfield if that interests you at all.
                                        -Ben


Hi Sherlock,
            This is not a dream of mine, but my wife's .  She has a lot
of dreams, most of which she can remember. (Lucky her - I remember about
one dream a fortnight).  Anyway, one of her more interesting dreams which
meant a lot to her at the time occurred whilst we were in the USA - I was
working there, but she was unemployed and having a very frustrating time
trying to deal with the beaurocracy and hassle over there (she's a
qualified doctor here in Britain).  So here goes...

  She dreamt that she was in a large American style house with two
relations of hers [who at the time had been back in Britain about a year,
after living in Conneticut for 7 years].  The house, although it looked
impressive, was actually made out of cardboard.  The two relations were
giving her advice on 'how to get on in America' [as they actually had
done before we left].  They said that the only way to be a sucess was to
speak in a certain way, which sounded just like a barking dog, and also
to go around on all fours.  My wife tried this, but only suceeded in
roaring like a lion, which she was secretly quite pleased about.

There are more details to the dream but that's the gist of it.  It was
quite an unusual dream in that it was so easy to interpret - the feeling
that a career move to the USA was a 'house of cards', and that not only
did she find herself unable to adjust to the country, by barking like a
dog, but would much rather be a 'British Lion' anyway.
   We came back to Britain a couple of months after the dream.
If you want more details, or are goinng to publish it, let me know as I'll
need her consent!
                 Cheers,
                        Richard Beanland.


     Here's one of my worst nightmares...not because of it being scary,
but because it made me feel guilty all of the next day.
     I was two people at once, a tall, thin pale man with white hair
and white wings and wearing a white toga (an angel) and a short muscular man
and red skin who was wearing black shorts (a demon).
     I was in what looked like a large boiler room.  It was dark, wet, and
too hot to be comfortable.  Pipes ran in every direction and all of them
seemed to leak steam in short bursts.  A chair was beside me.  It had
wrist and leg clamps and a variety of other restraint devices.  It looked
like an electric chair with a few added featured and it was clearly for
torture.
     A woman walked up to me and the demon-me made her sit in the chair
and he strapped her in.  The look on her face was of absolute terror.
She looked at the angel-me and cried "What did I do wrong?".  She
fought the clamps and restraints, but to no use.  All the angel-me
did was shake my head and I thought "What a pity" without much compassion.
     The Demon-me pulled down a large black metal device that was shaped
to cover the torso of a person sitting in the chair.  It covered the
head and body of the woman, but her arms were still in plain view.  She
kept asking over and over "What did I do?".  The demon-me pulled a lever
at the base of the chair and the metal devide started moving toward the
back of the chair (clowly crushing the woman in the process).  I could
see her arms strain against the clamps and finally fall limp.
     I woke up with an incredible feeling of guilt that lasted the entire
day.  It wasn't so bad that the demon-me killed the woman, but I found
that the worst part was that the angel-me just watched without really
caring that I was killing her.

     Love and Peace and Guilt,
          -The Dreamer-


Are you ready for this one, James?  Few dreams have touched me so
intimately as did this one.  I will never forget it.

    I was being held, for reasons unknown, in a dark basement, guarded
by several large thugs.  I was in great pain, and they were mocking me. 
Eventually, the torment became unbearable, and I decided I would try to
escape.  I ran across the room, and up the stairs to the only door,
knocking my adversaries aside.  I amazed myself with my own aggression,
but when I burst through the door, I found it led to the basement again.
 I looked up at the stairs that I had just climbed, and my jailers
laughed at the futility.  I hated them, and instinctively took out my
aggressions on them.  I charged again, and the  three men and I wrestled
on the stairs.
    They clutched my arms and I clawed at their eyes and kicked at their
throats.  Then I noticed a window on the wall beside me, and I pushed
one man's head into it, causing deep lacerations on his face.  Then I
Grabbed a shard of glass and hacked at the other two.  I looked beyond
the window and saw the sunny warmth of day, and after impaling one of
the others with the shard, I leapt for the window and was running for
home.  As I ran I heard the leader say, "You'll be back.  You'll want to
come back."  I laughed at him, and ran home, bleeding all the way.  
    When I got home, I expected to find my family relieved that I had
returned.  But everyone was crying.  I asked my neighbor what was wrong.
 She said that my sister Beth, and Kate (who was my fiance at the time
of the dream), had been abducted.  I knew at once who had taken them,
and so I returned to the basement.
    Again the men laughed at me, knowing that they had had the better of
me.  My hate and my anger ignited, and I knew that at that moment my
fury was insurmountable.  I engaged my foes one last time.  My sister
and my lover pleaded for me to stop and be safe, but I ordered them to
leave through the door and return home.  The thugs tried to prevent
them, but I managed to keep them busy while Kate and Beth left.  In
doing so, however, I was morally wounded with a knife.  As I died, I
killed the evil men by breaking their necks.  
    But the dream did not end with my death.  Instead, my soul left my
body and went home to see if my sister and fiance had gotten home
safely.  When I got there, my friends and family were crying but my Kate
and my mother were in my bedroom, and I could not go in.  After some
time, my mother came out, crying bitter-sweet tears.  Then she said,
"Todd has left us, but at least he left us part of himself behind so we
could remember him."  And then she showed everyone a newly boy.   Kate
had my son.



the best dream for feeling is the time I was
in an amusement park, the sun was shining, I
was warm, feeling pretty, and I waited in line
to get onto the roller coaster called On Top
Of The World.  When I got on the ride it climbed
up to the top and there it would freeze a while 
and I was truly on top of the world.  I woke
up feeling strong and happy.


later!
lara


I had it a few nights ago and the vague,lingering feeling that follows some
dreams stuck w/ me all the next day.  I feel uncomfortable right now, as 
a matter of fact, just thinking about it.  

The dog from my childhood was by my side.  Another dog that we got when this
primary dog was aprox. age 10 was present. The younger dog was yellow in the 
dream as she was in real life.  The primary dog looked in the dream as she
had while alive.  My sister and I were chatting as the dogs were playing by
our side.  They were making typical, gentle dog-play growels and grunt when 
suddenly the primary dog cried a terrible sound- a sound that was horrible, 
painful.  Clearly the sound of an animal brutalized.  We turned to the dogs
and I saw that the primary dog had had her face bitten off by the younger 
dog. The gory immage was painfully clear in the dream.  In real life and in 
the dream she had a long snout, and in the dream only the bottom jaw remained
intact.  The top part was yanked off rightt up to the frontal lobe - eyes,
nose, everything gone.  Because the brain was unharmed she was still perfectly
alert and suffering terribly.  I called Angel Memorial Animal hospital
franticaly and explained the situation. They said there was no way the dog
could be helped and that it would not be cost effective to send the ambulance
and that I should just let her die.  The worst part of the dream was pleading wwith  
with the hospital for help and being refused.   I awoke very upset, with the
    the last scene of the dream was standing with the dog, suffering 
terribly, at my feet and being totally w/out help.   The dream was last sunday
and I still can't shake the sadness. 



I once had a dream that in some medievel-type country
somewhere the young much-loved queen had just died.
She had a radiantly generous nature and a very strong
sense of fair-play that inspired love and loyalty in
the ranks of the royal and the common.  The dream was
the occasion of her funeral.  In this country the funeral
custom was that there would be a memorial visit after
the burial attended by anyone who felt any affection or
respect for the deceased.  She was interred in a crypt
beneath a structure that consisted of a round plaza with
a curved solid wall on one side and four columns on the
opposite side supporting a domed roof overhead with an
opening in the center of the roof letting light fall
onto the center of the plaza.  In the center of the
plaza was a dirt circle and a wooden cross which had
been gilded stood approximately five feet tall.  Climbing
roses with the colors of sunset in each rose had been planted
at the base of the cross and they wrapped around the cross
from bottom to top and bloomed in profusion.  The funeral scene
had the young king in the back near the solid wall sitting in
a large chair.  He was alone except for his magician who stood
apart from him.  It was a gloomy day and little light came
through the opening overhead.  The king sat in shadow and the
cross was in a pool of soft silver light.  The procession of
mourners filed through most of the day.  It was the tradition
that the mourners would bring tokens of significance--something
that had meant something special to, or might have been appreciated
by the queen.  Each individual or each little family group would
come through the pillars and approach the cross and they would
leave their items either hanging from one of the arms of the
cross or at the foot of the cross. Toward the end of the day
the pile around the cross was immense.  Robes, jewelery, sashes,
books, papers, flowers, carvings, weavings, toys, donations for
the poor, sheets of music, fruit, foreign marvels-- everything
and anything.  The cross was nearly obscured by golden chains
laden with gems, opulent fans and lengths of rich fabric.  Night
was falling and there were no other mourners without.  The
magician approached the cross and muttered some words and waved
his hands for a few moments and then he approached the king.
Throughout the day the king had barely moved, barely noticed the
activity around him.  He raised his head to acknowledge the
magician.  The magician said only, I think you may appreciate my
gift most of all, and then he bowed and left.  The king sighed a
great sigh and put his head in his hands.  After a few moments a
series of widely-spaced eviscerating sobs escaped him.  He
stopped and it was very quiet.  Especially quiet because he was
breathing only intermitently and softly.  There was a rustling
sound and he looked up to observe the rosevine step away from
the cross to matter-of-factly don the shimmering gold and red
robe, the most stunning necklace and pluck an elaborately painted
fan dangling from an arm of the cross.  The creature with legs,
arms and a head of entwined roses approached the king and curtsied
gracefully lifting the hem of the robe with one hand and fluttering
the fan with the other.  Music began to play in the air.  Wide-eyed
and entranced the king stood down from his chair and walked to
the rose-queen.  He bowed solemnly and then took the richly attired
vines into his arms and they began to waltz.  They went around and
around and the king began to talk to the rose-queen telling her
all the things he hadn't had a chance to say and somehow the
sunset colored blooms had an attitude of loving attention to all
his words.  The spinning motion and the babble of thoughts and
feelings set free blurred together as the night wore on and one
moment they were dancing and the next moment the king was waking
from a sound sleep that was had curled up on the stone plaza.  It
was getting brighter on one horizon and the cross and the roses
and all of the tokens of love and affection that surrounded them
were unchanged.  That was the end of the dream.  
						S.


when i was young, i had a recurring dream that i was being chased by a 
town of seseme street people.  the mayor was the blue guy that sings "who 
are the people in your neighborhood."  he got really pissed and got the 
whole town after me.  then, suddenly, from out of the river, an army of 
lobster/crayfish began chasing the townspeople.  i'm happy, so i wake up.  
there is usually somebody in the dream with me, though i could never 
remember who when i woke up.  hope this helps or amuses.  for more, check 
out ATTENTION PSYCH MAJORS.
						Not signed

> My mother, daughter and I shared a dream ... I had bought her a new coat,
> and she wanted to go show grandma -- but it was too late. The next day,
> however, I took her over and she told my mom that she had a new coat. My 
> mom said, I know, I've seen it. After the discussion, we all realized that
> we had indeed come over the night before and show my mom the coat, but
> we had done so in our dreams. Each of us knew the place we were in while
> Beth modeled her coat. 
> 
> About 3.5 years ago, I started a dream in the morning, the alarm awakend
> me and I knew it was 7:15. I remembered the dream clearly. At 7:15, Beth
> awoke and was experiencing the rest of the dream -- either psychically or
> had gone back to sleep -- whatever. I had dated a man that I felt was
> dangerous, and had broken up with him several months before -- I was
> moving to another apartment, and my daughter and her boyfriend were stayig
> at the old apartment -- I dreamed that this old boyfriend was chasing me
> down this curving path; I awoke. Beth dreamed that the old boyfried broke
> into the apartment and shot she and Troy. When I looked at the dream, I
> knew the curving path was the one that led to that apartment.  Beth and
> Troy came to the new apartment, we got things out of there when it was
> daylight and made the place look empty at night. One of my friends needed a
> place to stay, and he stayed there for a couple of weeks... One night the
> phone rang, and his answer machine picked it up. The voice on the other
> end spoke in Arabian for some time, then said, "Have a good evening." Well
> this old boyfriend's best friend was from Iran, and spoke it naturally...
> Beth had had a couple of other dreams about the old boyfriend, that we
> put into perspective -- and I feel that I broke the cycle of his killing me
> from other life times -- but I definitely stopped his killing me this time
> by not being there.
> 
> Recently my husband came out and I was reading a article I downloaded on
> UFOs. He didn't see what I was reading, and said, "I had the weiredst
> dream last night. I dreamed a UFO came." As we talked, I asked him questions
> that I already had an answer to -- like what we were wearing (nothing),
> about the bright light outside the window -- everything was exact. Did I
> dream about the UFO too? Did we share thoughts about it? Did it really
> happen? I don't know. Our information was the same. He was frightened but I
> wasn't, and I wouldn't be frightened of such a bright light from an OBE
> during meditation that happened to me.
> 
> Good chatting with you!
> viki
> 


Sherlock:
Ok, here ya go! :)
	--John   aka YAFer everywhere else that matters. ;)

Ok guys, here's one for you...

Ever since I was a little kid, oh say, around 4-5 years old (that information
comes from my mother), I have had this really wierd recurring nightmare.
When I was a kid I used to have this dream almost every night, but as the
years went by, it did not return as often.  Now, I have this dream only 
about once every 2 weeks or so, but I KNOW when I have it because I've had
it so many times that I know exactly what the dream is like and exactly
how I feel when I wake up after having it.  I'll tell you step by step
about the dream in a minute, but first I want you all to know a little bit
about "me" (background) as well as some of my own thoughts on it.  Then,
if you all would be so kind, I'd appreciate a bit of that expert analysis
I see in this group. ;)

NOTE:  If you do NOT want to know any of this history OR my OWN thoughts on
	this dream PRIOR to reading about the dream itself, please skip
	the entire text in between the lines of ******************. 
	Kinda like a movie review "spoiler" notice eh? %-)'


****************************************************************************
***********Skip to next group of astericks to read dream itself.************
****************************************************************************



When I was a child, my parents were divorced when I was 5 years old.
I don't remember much about this time period and never have.  I think that
I unconciously "forgot" about it all.  It wasn't like it was a real jolting
experience or anything; the divorce was nice and "clean," or so I hear. But
still, I think and my mother agrees, that my unconcious mind may still be
harboring some very acute "hatreds" or "blames" (that type of stuff). 
Anyhow, I personally think that this is when my "big dream" started up,
and since I can't  really remember much about the time period in question,
I don't know if there's any truth to that. But if there is or might be..... 

Anyhow, to make a short story long, when I was around 7 or 8 years old my
dreams (NIGHTMARES!!!) were getting so bad that my mother and stepfather
found it necessary to enlist the aid of a psychiatrist to figure out what
the hell was wrong with me.  Well, I should qualify that, AT LEAST that's
what my parents TOLD me at the time.  And so I see this psychiatrist once
or twice a week for awhile.  Her and I talk, we play games, we do my homework,
all that kinda stuff.  Then it's over; I stop seeing the shrink.  My dreams
are still there and all, but they're not as bad and not as often.  And so
the years roll by.  Several years later, when I was 16, I was rifling through
my parents' room (you know how kids do), and came across some paperwork.
You guessed it--the psychiatrist's final reports to my parents.  Well, it
turns out that my nightmare's were only ONE of the reasons I was there.
The biggest reason I was there was because I was having problems making 
friends, keeping them, in school, all that social stuff.  Anyways, one of the
things that I remember reading in that report (at least it sticks out in
my mind) is that the psychiatrist said that "while playing games with 
John I learned that he didn't like to lose."  No kidding!?!?!?!?  I could'a
told her that for free. ;) Anyway, I now see the importance of that sort of
stuff when it comes to social skills etc., as I'm sure you all will.
I really wish I could read that report right now, but alas, it's 3k miles
away.  The reason I told you about all this is just to let you people know
that there has been at least some sort of professional analyzation (sp?) 
done on me which obviously was NOT fruitious.  So I turn to you.... *grin*
BTW I think i might should not have told you all about all this BEFORE I
told you the dream, as your opinions might be tainted now.  Still, I felt
strongly enough about it that I felt you should at least know MY thoughts
on it before you go and make some analysis on it. ;)  Besides, we're all
adults...we can formulate our own opinions on things objectively, right???
*chuckle*




****************************************************************************
*******************Below is description of dream itself.********************
****************************************************************************
(Someone wanna email me a list of those escape character thingamabobs?) ;)


Ok...here's the dream:
During my dream it is as if I am watching a movie, one of whose characters
(well, ONLY character), is ME.  But even still, it is strange because although
I am watching myself, I still FEEL emotions.  Maybe this is just the effect
of remembering the dream.  I don't know.  You tell me.
The atmosphere is a strange, cloudy, smoky, orangish-red.  Very spooky.
I feel as if the whole place is just so huge and I am so small, so 
inconsequential.  I'm walking along this dirt road that is sort of like
a levee that continues along forever and ever.  The levee thing is raised
up off of the "ground" by about 6 feet.  The "ground" that is on either
side of the road is not dirt like the road, but rather it is a very flat,
very taught (sp? "tight") shiny canvas type thing.  There is nothing that
I can see anywhere around me except for this canvas "ground" and the road
continuing on in front and in back of me forever.  No mountains, no buildings,
no nothing.  Just horizon.  I'm having this strange sensation that is like
I am being torn apart from all sides.  Some force is pulling at me in every
direction.  I feel like i am going to explode.  I don't know what it is,but
something is here, something is hurting me.  I start running down the road.
I don't know where I am going, just trying to get away.  I'm trying to get
someplace, i know where I am going, but i can't see it and it seems like i
will never get there.  Something is chasing me, i can see it now.  It's like
a tank or something.  Something huge is following me down the road.  I can't
get off the road and out of it's way because the canvas "earth" won't 
support me or something, i dont' really know, i just know i can't stray from
the road.  I'm really scared and screaming.  it's getting to the point that
I can't stand it.  This force is tearing me apart and this thing is chasing
me, i feel like i'm going to have a heart attack or something.  Finally,
I get to where I am going.  Like the end of the road or something.  The 
"tank" thing or whatever it was is gone.  The place where I am now is some
sort of city, an empty city.  I looks like some sort of old muslim city or
like the kremlin or something with a bunch of minarets and stuff like that.
There is nobody but me around.  I'm very scared now of what i don't know.
I'm running through the city, but it's not like a city or anything that i
would call a city now.  It's more like i'm running through the back alleys
of some sort of "shantytown" type thing.  Wooden shacks are all over the place
and fences block my way.  I'm running to something, to what I don't know,
I never find it in my dream.  But all this while I am so scared and that 
force that is pulling me apart from all different directions is still there.
I look in a bunch of different shacks for what I am looking for, but it is
not there.  
This is vivid guys.  I'm recalling this like it's happening, I thought you
oughta know that.
Somehow I end up back on the road again and the city that i was in is nowhre
to be seen.  The thing that is chasing me is chasing me again.  I'm running
and running, crying and screaming. The feeling of being torn apart is just
too much to handle.  I've got something in my hands, it's some sort of rag
or something that is wet.  I'm holding onto it for dear life.  It's as if
it will protect me from the thing.  I stop and turn around and face the
thing, but it dissappears, but the force that is tearing me apart increases.
It hurts so bad.  I can't stand it.  I'm crying like I've never cried before.
Nobody can help me.  I'm all alone and I can't find something to help me.
I fall down onto my knees and  just sit in the middle of the road looking
up at the orange sky screaming and crying.  I look around but all i see is
that damn orange canvas going on forever and ever.  I can't stand it.  It's
going to pull me apart limb from limb and i can't get away from it.  

The dream ends with me just sitting there on the road crying.  The strange
part is that every time I recall the dream while I am awake, I can remember
all the way up to that point, but that is it.  However, for some reason,
I always have this strange feeling that there is more to it.  The dream
does not end there, but rather something else happens.  What it is, I do
not know.  I wish I knew, but I don't. 
One other thing....Even when I have this dream now, I am still a child.
I'd call myself about 5 years old, maybe younger.  All I know is that in
this dream I am severly scared shitless to say the least.
When I wake up from this dream I KNOW i just had it.  I'm drenched in sweat
and that feeling of being torn apart is not completely gone yet.  It's almost
like something really IS tearing me apart.  Not violently, not like some
horror movie type thing or something, but more like just a feeling.  I don't
really know how to explain it better other than just that.  It is a feeling.
A very intense one to say the least, one that scares the living &%$# out
of me to this day.

Well, that's a wrap.  I'd appreciate ANY and ALL comments, analysis, etc.
Whether they be posted or email is left to your discretion.  Although if
you are gonna get a wee bit more personal than I did, some semblance of
courtesy would dictate email and would be appreciated.  Thanks. 

----John 



Thank you all for sending me your dreams. These are the ones I have selected.
Upon writing my book, I would ask that each one of you send me permission
to use these dreams. If and when you do I will notify you about the book, etc.
These dreams are quite interesting. I'm not going to analyze them or ask about
your childhood. Just enjoy. I posted these dreams for your enjoyment.
Happy Daze
							-Sherlock Holmes
							(James D. Becktel)
VMS: 00jdbecktel@leo.bsuvc.bsu.edu
UNIX: sherlock@bsu-cs.bsu.edu