33 Years of Dreams, LIfe's Nighttime Narrative

33 Years of Dreams

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Life's Nighttime Narrative

Roger Golden Brown

Published by Golden Galaxy Publications

Copyright 2016

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Purchase a copy (print and eBook) of 33 Years of Dreams here.

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You are free to copy and redistribute the material under the following terms:

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Also by Roger Brown:

The Truth Seeker’s Handbook

Insights

Heading Out

Encounters

Themes of my Life

Reminders From Life, for Life

Earth in Peril

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I can be contacted at the following e-mail address:

wordsmith@goldengalaxies.net

Also check out my world affairs oriented website:

https://goldengalaxies.net/Quasar/

And my more personal website:

https://goldengalaxies.net/

Foreword

I mentioned to a friend that I might publish a book of my dreams. Her response was, why would anybody want to read someone else’s dreams? I thought, yeah, she’s probably right. But as I got to thinking about it I thought, why would anybody want to read anyone else’s poetry? They are the same, in a way; kind of cryptic non-linear stories that take images and create something to be felt and interpreted.

I did some research and found a website where some people at a college had a bunch of people submit dreams and they made a database out of it and I found it fascinating.

So, I figured, why not. My book of dreams will see the light of day.

Statistics

In this book there are 1,013 dream entries. There are two cases of dreams in the same night getting separate entries. Thus the dreams from 1,011 nights or naps have been recorded here.

I first began keeping journals in the summer of 1975 when I moved to San Juan Island in Washington. It was in this context that the writing down of my dreams happened. And with the exception of the last few dreams written down in 2009, 2010, and finally in 2014, after I had stopped keeping my journals, the dreams span the 33 years from 1975 until 2008.

Dreams, As I See Them

Back in my 20’s I used to paint for a living from time to time. Many times while painting I’d get into a nice rhythm and notice that in my head little dream scenes were playing. Not daydreaming, which is kind of fantasizing, rather actual little impossible crazy scenes exactly like nighttime dreams and not associated with any conscious thoughts whatsoever.

It is my belief that we are always dreaming and are not usually aware of it because most of the time it is drowned out by two things mainly; one, the predominance of our senses and two, our agendas. By agendas I mean our daily plans and our self images that we maintain, both which kick in full bore once we wake up; everything that creates the structure we have erected and hold onto as our lives.

Crazy our dreams might be, but that doesn’t mean they are not by design. Our primary goal here on the planet is to improve ourselves and become more harmonious participants in the community of humanity. Towards this end, we must explore ourselves. The conscious mind can only handle so much information at once. But in cryptic and game messages so much essence can be absorbed. Dreams function this way to spark ourselves to be expansive and inquisitive much in the same ways that riddles and the teachings of mystery schools do.

This quote from one of my journals:

Rather than the Earth drama of not knowing, playing some Sherlock Holmes game, I want to know. I want to be psychic, open, see colors, UFOs, love energy. It seems that the only purpose of the mystery is to keep us from being overloaded while unraveling and identifying all the baggage to release and laugh away. But then the only reason we would become overloaded would be because of the judgment we impose upon our self. No amount of information or energy in flow would do that. In fact, it is said that the mystery schools encoded everything because of fear of persecution from the fearful. Is that exactly what we do within ourselves? Encode our lives and our dreams, in order that they be understood only slowly as we gain pieces to the puzzle, so we don’t persecute ourselves out of fear, if we found out what we were doing.

It has also occurred to me that the dream state is like or the very same as the way we experience, create, learn, and grow, adding to ourselves in a spirit form when not in an Earth life.

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I have never dedicated myself intently in any scientific way to the interpreting of my dreams, although I have dabbled in it as long as I can remember. Along the way a couple of techniques have come to me.

One is dream asking; asking my dreams for an answer to a question or for information about something going on in my life. To that end, regarding asking hard questions it occurred to me that instead of questions such as what should I do? and where should I be?, it would better if I ask how I feel about something or what does my body want. Or maybe address my committee members in my mind, and try and learn better what they want to help make more informed wake decisions. Should seems problematic. Like the answer would be some inflexible statement that I’m not aware of participating in. And the interpretation becomes an attempt to decide what I’m told and whether I should obey instead of being an attempt at more self awareness in order to make aware choices.

I also believe that it is possible to connect in a dream with a dream interpreter and ask within the dream for their take on what the dream or something in the dream means. I have had some experience of this happening. This dream interpreter may be a part of our self or it may be an earthly friend there to help or it may even be a spirit guide.

Some Notes on the Book’s Layout

Sometimes when there are several distinct dreams in a night or several dreams in one dream session that seem separate, for whatever that’s worth, I have indicated this by putting a bullet before each dream. If I have written down only one dream in a night, no bullet is used. Plus there are nights when it was just a series of scenes, having seemingly no connection, for which I haven’t marked each with a separate bullet.

I have also omitted, for the most part, editorial comments found in my journals like zillions more and rivals the dreams of the old days. I have left in some references to the residual feeling upon waking up. Most of these dreams were part of nights with oh so much more, which was forgotten or simply too much to write down but often flavored my sleep.

And the dreams were often written down with my head overflowing with images and events and were, as originally written, far from grammatically correct. So for this book I did put some effort into making the dreams readable. However, some of the syntax is not English class perfect but should suffice for the nimble reader.

Throughout the writings down of the dreams, I had often put question marks or commented how I was unsure. In most cases, I have deleted those question marks and just figured that if it seemed to be something, then that is what the dream was offering.

Over the years I wrote down a myriad dreams of divine feelings being with women or of rejection or anguish for lack of closeness to women. Although the sensation and feelings were profound and often affected me deeply, they are not such a good read and pretty repetitious. I have omitted them for the most part unless the dream has other worthy qualities.

Finally, as an editor, I was tempted to try and make some sense where events don’t sequence logically to make it more coherent, but I have not done this. Not only is it the nature of dreams to be free from the constraints of the physics of the real world but it is also my belief that dreams have no real need to be temporally logical. The images and events are, after all, just pieces to a puzzle.

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The dreams are in chronological order, starting in 1975; by no means the beginning of my dream career, but this is when I first began keeping journals and writing my life down.

And I suppose it might be helpful to know my age to give some perspective to my dream life. I was born mid-century, February 1950. So my first recorded dreams were at the age of 25.

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Of course, dreams being personal as they are, many of the characters and references will be unknown to the reader. I had intended to include extensive footnotes with brief one line explanations but at this point I don't have the energy or incentive so a brief list of main places and players in my dreams will have to suffice. This appears on the following pages.

A Brief Cast of Main Characters and Places

(In rough chronological order)

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Lake Forest Park - (LFP) - The small town a few miles north of Seattle where I lived and grew up in the woods with Doug, Mom, Dad, and dog Foxy.

Doug - My younger (by 3 years) brother, close friend, and fellow hippie and world citizen.

Dad - My father, a Quaker and high spiritual person; paralyzed from the waist down and in a wheelchair since I was 5.

Mom - My mother, a British war bride, a person of high integrity who worked her buns off taking care of the family and making our life comfortable.

Bill Cruchon - A Lake Forest Park neighbor and friend, Doug’s age, who I was close to in my 20’s.

Mike Stadler - A Lake Forest Park neighbor, Doug's age, and close friend in my 20's. Sadly, he took off and joined a Christian group in California and was gone from my life.

George School - A co-ed private Quaker boarding high school in Pennsylvania that I attended for 4 years. A profound experience in my life; a kind of communal pastoral living situation without cars and the normal go home to your separate family reality.

Ed Ayres - My cross country coach at George School whose friendship I have continued to enjoy since then.

Mike McClure - Friend and fellow top cross country runner at George School.

Rick Platt (Plick) - Friend and fellow top cross country runner at George School.

Alain - A friend since teenage years in Seattle. We owned land together in Olympia in the late 70's and lived together again in Ashland in the 2000's. A good friend.

Bellingham - A city north of Seattle, near the Canadian border where Doug and I and other close friends lived much of the 70’s.

Michael Short - Close friend and sometimes roommate in my 20’s.

Marian - A girlfriend in Seattle and Bellingham during my 20's. A friend and beautiful woman and peaceful soul.

Sharon - A woman I met in my late 20's in the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho, then traveled to California to be with. Possibly the most compatible woman I've ever been with. We were young but mostly I failed to try hard enough to make it work; the biggest regret in my life.

Mary - A lover, short-time girlfriend, and later friend who meant a lot to me and put me through changes; outside of my family, she's the second most appearing dream figure in my life.

Santa Cruz - A beach surf town south of San Francisco where I moved to when I couldn’t take Washington winters anymore. Here I made many close friends and lived a powerful significant 9 years of my life.

Massage Tables - sometimes just referred to as tables. During the 80’s and 90’s I made and sold portable massage tables of my own design.

Fred - One of my closest friends in Santa Cruz and in my life. Confident and attractive to women. Outside of my family, the most appearing dream figure in my life.

Rusty - Sometimes called Russ, he grew up with Fred and became a best friend and roommate in Santa Cruz, and later in San Luis Obispo.

Karlos - A friend of Russ and Fred's who became a roommate and friend of mine. A Leo who was impulsive and could access the world of magic when necessary.

Bart - A friend in Santa Cruz who was a devotee of an Indian guru, which was a point of contention between us.

Jane - A girlfriend who lived in Chico when I lived in Santa Cruz, a long distance relationship. Maybe the deepest love of my life. A beautiful, sweet, gentle woman.

Boehr - A short romance, a friend, and an honest present person.

Dorinda - A sometimes roommate, always friend, and one time lover. A truly quality relationship.

Yolanda - A long distance relationship in my late 30's that was totally dysfunctional. We had tremendous chemistry but our lives could never merge. I deluded myself that they could and paid a huge emotional price for it.

Austria - During my first trip to Europe in 1985 I ended up spending a good portion of it in Imst, Austria, a small town close to Innsbruck. I would return many times as I made many close friends there.

The Kerbers - The family (a mother and 3 college age daughters) who, after one of the daughters brought me home one evening, took me in and I lived with them for that summer of 1985 and again in 1986. A decent generous Catholic family.

Karin - A woman I met in Innsbruck in 1986, first as lover then becoming best friends. My closest soul mate on Earth.

Edi - A close friend in Imst, Austria. Fellow Aquarian and soul mate with whom I shared deeply.

Keith - A special friend from the 90’s onward. We shared cosmic and spiritual awareness.

Table of Contents

33 Years of Dreams Title

Foreword

Statistics

Dreams, As I See Them

Some Notes on the Book’s Layout

A Brief Cast of Main Characters and Places

About the Author

Other Books by Roger Brown

San Juan Island, 1975

Bellingham, 1976

Olympia, 1976

Sawtooth Mountains, 1976

Sonoma County, 1977

Olympia, 1978

Seattle, 1979

Bellingham, 1980

Santa Cruz, 1981

Maui, 1983

Santa Cruz, 1984

Europe, 1985

Santa Cruz, 1985

Europe, 1986

Santa Cruz, 1987

Los Osos, 1989

Sebastopol, 1989

Austria, 1991

California, 1991

Bellingham, 1991

Santa Fe, 1992

Austria, 1993

Bellingham, 1993

Maui, 1993

Kauai, 1995

Santa Cruz, 1995

Sonoma County, 1996

Los Osos, 1999

Austria, 2000

Los Osos, 2000

Ashland, 2002

Atascadero, 2007

Austria, 2008

Sebastopol, 2009

San Juan Island, 1975

Living on San Juan Island, Washington State

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August 13, 1975

A huge black man almost pulverized me until I cowered, whimpered and gave him the way to get to some drive-in that was open.

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August 31, 1975

I was embracing my old friend Jim Kirk goodbye. There was the feeling of having been close for a long time and separating for possibly a long time.

Bellingham, 1976

Living in Bellingham, Washington

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March 1, 1976

I wanted to shower at Michael’s house but he said it didn’t work; I had to use a neighbor’s shower. I wondered how to dress to walk over there, now being naked, with just a towel over my shoulder. Then I was in just pants.

I encountered a stream, where in reality the alley is behind Michael’s house, and people were playing frisbee over it. A woman met me and directed me to a shower. But I never did shower.

We stopped and shared apple pie. She said she made it. I said mine was better, then decided no, just sweeter. I explicitly explained my recipe. This took place on stairs in a boarding house with shared facilities. The frisbee players were members. The stream was on the grounds.

Then I was in a second bedroom of Michael’s.

Then I was playing pro basketball, sometimes with dress shoes, sometimes down booties, sometimes my wasted, too big, cross country shoes, often in the institutional kitchen of the place. Mr. Stadler was the coach. Other Stadlers were playing. Not Mike, though.

Halftime break - mostly people slept. One couple made love on a table, he behind her on their sides with clothes on; discreet but I and another guy were awake and aware. I was in and out of my down sleeping bag throughout the rest period.

I aspired to friendship with a woman who had brought me. But she had a close male friend.

An electronic clock signaled the end of the rest period. It showed only a minute hand until one minute to go, then a second hand. There was a light ring at 30 seconds. A different one at 15 seconds. A louder, but still soft ring at time 0 with the number 1 showing in the center of the clock splitting into 4 parts, then more; many shapes; drops and others.

There were many colors and patterns exploding silently across the entire screen after number 1’s trip. At some point I explained the clock to the others. I was the only one who had seen it.

Then I was outside again. A short distance away my recurring woman friend was passing. I wanted to go to her but perceived that she was close to this other guy. Just then Caroline came cruisin’ down the hill. I was on my bike; standing still. Caroline came whizzing down an incline past me; rather up to me. I held out my hand jokingly in her way. She came to a stop. All the while she approached she was smiling openly.

We hadn’t seen each other for a while. She put her arms around me and she kissed me awkwardly, a bit unsure. Still smiling she said you’re crazy. That turned me on. I put my arms around her. I tried to hold her tight mumbling something like, Oh Caroline, I just want to hold you. She broke away, got off her bike, came around to the other side and in front of mine and putting her arms around me, pulled me off my bike. I didn’t care if my bike was injured. We fell into each other’s arms and our mouths melted together. It was a feeling of total, unbounded ecstasy. I was incredibly high. I suddenly realized I was dreaming and I couldn’t stay in the dream.

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March 18, 1976

I was looking around in a Goodwill-type store. I was watching a woman’s football game and looking in the store during half time. It was a big building with lots of stairways and passageways. There was more football and then more second hand looking but in a junk yard.

A bunch of guys were needlessly destroying ceramic stuff in a bin. I was complaining and they were getting mad and throwing stuff at me; one of them making a reference to cutting my face.

They chased me down a hill (on a street) throwing pieces of broken glass at me. The chase eventually included Doug, me, Brock Rositzke, and another one or two through the woods to a house to call the police. Real fear. A guy in the basement laughed at me and wouldn’t let me use the phone.

I went upstairs and people let me use the phone but it rang for the guy downstairs (he renting) and when I got on he was on the line and still laughed at my predicament.

Doug was ahead and safe, I was ok, Rositzke was slow and close to the chasers. We went through more woods, barging through, and down a cliff.

Then at a house with a swimming pool party they would let me use the phone but it was too late. There were people doing a fancy group swimming maneuver, like a kaleidoscope.

Finally an explicit view of 10 or more guys filing out of the woods with clubs. But we now had protection in numbers. That’s it.

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March 31, 1976

I was where my car (VW) used to be parked near the commissary and many junked VWs were there. I was walking with a door panel and two police came by and claimed I had stripped it illegally off a car. They took me down a highway 20 or 30 miles east and south to one’s house. He was a friendly guy but I was none-the-less trapped.

Watching their TV I saw a report of the nicer, more in command, of the two cops riding his 20 speed bike great distances. We talked about this. He usually rode to town.

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April 27, 1976

There was a big hole in my chest and somebody (perhaps Mom) was replacing vital organs. My chest needed a bolt in the breast bone but we were having a hard time getting it on. I felt incapacitated. There was no pain or blood and guts. Just a feeling of incapacitation.

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April 28, 1976

I was near the Grand Canyon on a big plain. Hilly and wild though. There were groups of people here and there. And herds of snakes. I was sleeping outside near a shelter. There were elephants and several other unusual (for North America) animals. I was with Doug. There was tremendous dust or clouds whipping up out of the canyon at a distance. Altogether a fantastic scene.

Olympia, 1976

I move to Olympia, Washington

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June 14, 1976

I was sleeping in the basement room at LFP. An overflowing water pool. I lost my purse with Gary’s phone number and money, food stamps, etc. I found it but Mom accidentally threw it into the ocean which was where the valley below the house is. There was a beautiful winding path leaving the corner of the house. I dove into the ocean after my purse. All this time I was worried because I’m late calling Gary. Doug dove in and smashed himself on a rock. He said (in an adrenalin fashion) that he’s ok, he’s alright. But he’s broken something in his back. I carried him out. Dwight Evans hit two singles and a home run for 5 RBI’s. It would have been 6 if Doug hadn’t been taken out injured. Doug turns out to be all right. Chewy (tree planter) and Dan Halliday and a 3rd person are trimming bushes by the basement and hoping Mom will pay them. I locked the basement door when I left. Mom mentioned three strange people outside. I explained. More searching near the ocean for my purse. The MacKinnons helped in the search. There was a Chinese girl with a lizard. The lizard found the purse in a shellfish. Everything is intact.

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June 25, 1976

Several black guys asked me to buy beer for them. I did but they didn’t like the beer and took it back. Then they asked me to buy wine. The store didn’t have it so they complained and walked out. I followed with something I had bought at another store. I felt weird walking past Gerald Ford, the store clerk.

Next I was between 47th and 45th on the Ave, then turning up 45th, across 15th and onto campus I encountered a sheet metal box with a body in it. Further down the street another was being carried by some people. I became aware of a constant loud speaker (big brother) sending out news of disaster. Shit had hit the fan. Not rioting but just madness. I walked by a guy (David Chase or Mike King) and as he heard me approach he swung out his arm to hit me. I was just out of reach. I turned up 45th and crossed 15th. While doing so I feared motorists going out of their way to swerve and run me over.

In a block or so I was out of the bedlam and with Marian and another woman I was close to. I wondered who I felt closest to. I told them of my experience on the Ave.

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August 19, 1976

Total Chaos. A monster machine has rolled into the city virtually unopposed. Most people flee the island of Earth. I was one of the two riding atop the machine.

Cities were deserted. Originally all people were bitter and angry. Then they realized it was the necessary act to break down the system.

New communities are planning to be formed. Most of Kallyope remains. New social structure and modes of living are inevitable.

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August 31, 1976

There was one scene in a room, and one at a swimming hole on a river with Sarah and Marian. In both I was totally unable to get any response from either of them. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. Totally alienated. Next scene. Sarah and Marian are both in cutoffs, bare feet, and T-shirts, hitch-hiking at a freeway entrance. Me thinking great. I can pick them up and have their company. A car pulls up and after talking to them for a minute Marian gets in and they depart. Me thinking well, anyway I can pick up Sarah. Just an instant before I arrive another car stops and off it goes with Sarah. Another short scene. I head over to a cliff over the shore and find a guy who will take a ride the way I’m heading. Nice, but I’m really down.

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December 12, 1976

I was preparing to go away to school in the East; George School but different. Adult George School.

Romping with Sarah through a soggy, grassy, marshy area.

Sarah and others were naked in a swimming pool seen in a motion picture projected slide. Doug recognized her as an old lover.

Many skaters on a pond. A woman riding bike naked. A passing naked man in the back of a convertible.

I was having a hard time getting ready to go away to school. Sarah was also involved. She and I and Doug were going different places but catching the same plane.

I woke up in a room not remembering the night before. I woke up with shoes on, a different pair of pants, three layers of gloves, and sweaters. Two guys were filling a lunch box with kerosene; me directing them to cans in the garage.

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July 7, 1977

I was on a bus going along the water around Lopez Island. There were several cars like a train but not a train. I was in one car by myself watching a movie. A boot and a sock were somehow involved in the car. Another person entered the scene at one point. I was afraid the train would tip over on some of the curves. Finally it went over a body of water and stopped under a bridge where a logging operation was taking place. Dad was in his wheelchair up there. I climbed up some very tough and hard to hold on to rungs. I succeeded making it to the top though I was very scared.

Sawtooth Mountains, 1976

Spending the summer building a house in the woods in Idaho

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July 19, 1977

A new resident of our house was showing me around a flourishing garden. Broccoli had gone to seed and was a 20 ft. tree with yellow flowers and a foot and a half thick trunk. Doug was spraying an apple tree. Also huge cauliflower. I picked one and was about to pick another and the woman escorting me telepathically made me suddenly see it as not ripe. Somebody told me that I was being fooled and the little plant I was about to pick was really ripe. I picked it and it was ripe. I was trying to buy a ticket to Houston (on a train) but I had forgotten my money.

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July 28, 1977

I was playing pro baseball but it was ridiculously mickey mouse. The corners of the infield diamond had posts supporting beams and some flooring. I couldn’t find my mitt. I realized I had left it in Colorado. I couldn’t find any to fit. There were only small ones and one about 2 feet long around. I asked the coach if I was in the starting line-up and he put me at 2nd base. After finding an unsatisfying mitt I came out and blew all my warm-up fielding plays - in between the studs.

Sonoma County, 1977

Living in Sonoma County, California,

with Sharon who I met in Idaho

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November 6, 1977

Three of us were dead but living in the spirit world. We were physically capable. I proved it to the other two by putting a bullet through my head.

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December 8, 1977

In a store for Armor All. A lady showed me the wrong kind. I was leaving but she insisting I wait until a man came back who might show me some. I was spinning a small frisbee I found on a shelf while she was stacking goods or something and I knocked some stuff off a shelf. I had wanted to leave but she had persuaded me to stay. She wanted me to buy from them. The man came back but they didn’t have what I wanted. Next, I was a passenger in a pickup truck following people we knew in another one. We were in Cotati heading for Santa Rosa. The first truck was pulled over by the police. Sarah was in the back, a little cold, then she was out and so was I. I hugged her tightly. I felt like she needed to be hugged tightly. I offered to trade places in the trucks, then we decided to both ride in the back half way then bike the rest.

Next, I was in a strange room, dancing taking place. Ballet or modern dance of some sowrt, telling a story. Late in the dance one woman was naked. I was seated at a table. I moved a candle that was in my way to the side to see better but afraid to partake in the dance because I had a hard-on.

Next, I was in a store with a neatly folded, packaged dress shirt I wanted to buy. I walked around frustrated trying to find a place to buy it but all check stands were so full. Not wanting to deal with the store any more I just put it down and ran out and thinking I would be suspect of stealing, I ran. I was chased. I passed somebody in a doorway going into a building who was bewildered. I ran into the same room where the dance had been but now recorded music was blaring. The guy chasing me tackled me. I told him in a perturbed voice that I hadn’t stolen anything. He asked what I had been doing in the store hanging around not buying. I explained; also about the Armor All.

He wouldn’t let me up without checking my pockets for guns and feeling my penis while he was at it. He’s lying on my back, me on my side. Myself thinking, still perturbed, this cop is queer.

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December 19, 1977

Three teenagers on motorcycles were cavorting around the countryside disturbing the peace. Myself and somebody else stopped two of them. The 3rd escaped. I stood in front of one and the kid tried to hit it and fly past me or over me. I grabbed the handlebars and wrestled it to the ground. I told him how I felt about the disturbing nature of the thing. He broke down, sobbing. I asked or said something about his parents, about how he got no attention and they didn’t care. He really broke down and I held him in my arms - tight - him holding me. Consoling him. Meanwhile the other cyclist, having been humbled, and my partner returned to our scene. Warm, compassionate feelings, comforting this lonely boy.

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January 2, 1978

• In a room, visiting Dee (Shantz) talking. I went over and sat down by her and we talked. Behind us some guy picked out a record that belonged to a girl, also in the room, and smashed it with a hammer. She, shocked, yelled no! in anguish. I felt that she and he were boyfriend and girlfriend and that he got off on being hard to her and that she hated it but felt trapped and couldn’t leave him. He broke another record, then another. She was in obvious pain at the acts each time.

I felt that I couldn’t ignore it and confronted him. We discussed it though I was certain his tempers were rising and he was being defensive and aggressive. Much tension in the room. Dee and others in the room were not looking at us but listening in much apprehension. They were all feeling fear but that it was about time somebody didn’t play the innocent bystander.

As our confrontation grew I felt unafraid of him because I was a little bigger and stronger than him. But afraid that violence might be necessary. I felt that I couldn’t run or leave the situation because this guy would hold a grudge and track me down and back-stab me any chance he got. The whole confrontation scene was feeling; very little visual and very fast.

Violence came in the form of myself in some kind of animal scuffle biting or scraping his eyes out with my teeth, neither of us human. His head was something like a fox, long snouted. There was no blood, just a head scraped of its eyes. It looked like a carcass. There was also sensations of using fangs, not human teeth. Also the feeling of a bird being involved. Maybe he was a crow, not a fox.

It was over but murder hung over my head. I walked into the next room. Two women shopping out of co-op bins assured me I was in the right. Non-verbally expressing my feelings to somebody accompanying me to the back porch I flashed on the potential revulsion and thought about throwing up. I tried to and failed. It was forced, not a natural reaction.

After that I went through many thoughts plaguing my sleep for much of the night. Thoughts of whether or not good character references would save me in court. Thoughts of whether or not it was legitimate self-defense. Just lots of thoughts of the heaviness of killing someone.

• I got up, went into a different room, and realized I was still asleep. I had a whole series of waking up and doing things, then realizing I was still asleep dreams. I tried for a long time to get up before I finally could.

Olympia, 1978

I return to Olympia

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February 10, 1978

Some people I knew (about three of them) were swimming in a lake. Sharmon was one of them. I remember her skimming along or some smooth maneuver that impressed me. Above the water there was a space of about 10 to 15 feet of air, then a belt of 6 or 7 feet of water. I was swimming in the top of that. I was very aware of the feeling of the water; of the thickness of the liquid. I wanted to swim down through the upper layer, break through, and dive into the lower water. I tried to. I swam down but the bottom was elastic and I couldn’t break through. Finally I had to swim frantically to the surface for my life. I had been anticipating the air in the belt between the waters. Coming up I surfaced safely.

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April 22, 1978

I met two women who were newly aware of a need to campaign for women’s rights and were. I had just been all over the country calling for one U.S. official’s arrest because of abusing women’s rights. I was walking with these two women being careful to respect their feelings of women’s equality but realizing I wasn’t on the spot. They appreciated me for what I was. I was aware of first one, then the other’s sparkling vibrant eyes. I said so. I then developed a warm loving relationship with one of them.

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April 26, 1978

I awoke to backing around a corner, off the road and turning the car over into a pond or lake. I was thinking first that I was just waking up and was hardly ready to deal with escape. All the windows were up, there were no sounds of leaking air, and a person had observed it. Still though!! I thought, shit, so Roger Brown ends thus. Just like that. A little mistake and death.

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July 16, 1978

I was outside somewhere with Karrie. She asked if I wanted to kiss. I said sure. We kissed deeply. Our tongues met. It felt great and we both enjoyed it. A little later, both of us in the same area, I kissed her again. Deeply, warmly. She said this is great. I said I wish I’d known before. We could have been doing it long ago.

An attractive woman came into the scene, a friend of Karrie’s. I got the feelings there were other people around also. She asked if anybody wanted to make love. I said sure. It sounds beautiful. I felt attractive and charismatic and she seemed pleased.

Some time elapsed, then Sarah came into the scene, fresh back from traveling. She asked if anybody wanted to make love. I don’t think she said it but it was understood she hadn’t had sex in a long time, during her travels. I said I would. I felt like I expected her to be more woman and older feeling than she usually seems to me.

We went to a room or place on the edge of a sort of drop-off. She was in a sleeping bag. I was preparing to get undressed and join her when the other woman came into the room. I went to her and said, Oh that’s right. I already said I would make love to you. I was sorry. I led her into the next room and sincerely asked her how she felt. If it was ok. She said yes. We hugged and I kissed her and said if Sarah left early in the morning I would come over and make love with her. She seemed satisfied. It felt good. That was how it ended. Us hugging and making arrangements for the next morning.

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October 12, 1978

I was trying to make a homemade atomic bomb. There was something about a car battery with a kind of fuse and some plutonium or whatever in it. After putting it together I was scared, really scared but for some reason it was dud. I was in a barn. I remember trying to take it apart, thinking about being so close and knowing I would be blown up just as thoroughly 20 or 30 miles away. Somebody else I knew had made another one that was successful; with something like a 2 hour fuse. In a panic I ran around collecting some stuff, my wallet, and in a panic headed south. The barn was somewhere in Eastern Washington. I just started running. I got separated from my friend and didn’t wait. I ran hard. Hitchhiking, I slipped off the soft shoulder of the road. There was a steep, short (5ft.) cliff. Trying to climb back onto the road, the edge of the shoulder kept crumbling and I couldn’t do it. Finally I negotiated the cliff and caught a ride. I got to somewhere in Oregon and caught a small plane with room enough to fit me going to southern California.

Then, having returned I met the other person, (who had fled to Seattle), back at the barn and dismantled my bomb. Gingerly I carried the radioactive part of it to the end of the LFP house driveway and buried it in the dug-away spot. Under the first layer of dirt were many layers of plastic. I buried it there. I remember hearing a radio from a house down from the McKinnon’s and being aware of its newness there.

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December 11, 1978

During the dream I labeled this the Lost Horizon dream. It took place in a huge inside area where there were many things. It was a place to go for diversion. Not an amusement park but more things reflective of your life. I remember a section of tools surrounding my area. And shelves of free objects. Not a give and take community; just kind of a peaceful indoor anarchy. I remember people (adults) peddling simple child-like drawings. Mark McGrath was one.

Later I found myself in some more mystical settings. Progressing into different levels. Others were discussing whether I was ready. I felt that this place was the all and everything. Life in a building.

I wanted Barb to come and see all of what I had seen but suddenly realized that she would overlook what I saw and see the surroundings her own way. I realized that this place would be physically to different people like life is seen differently by all people.

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March 28, 1979

There were a bunch of people watching our obnoxious (in reality) neighbor trying to place a mobile home on posts in a lake. In a high place looking out somebody shoved me; myself hanging on to a rope. I swung out. It was hard to hold on. I was worried about some kind of obstacle ahead of me; some kind of cloth or something. I thought it might knock me off but it didn’t. It spun me to the left of the building. I went around a holly tree. It whipped me really fast past another holly tree and into a short fir tree. I grabbed the top and let out a whoop. I was super high on the thrill of it. I climbed down and whooped again and ran off. It felt good.

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May 10, 1979

I was on a bus as an exchange student going down Lake City Way to Shorecrest. I threw some frisbees on a field. I met my chaperone, a super fat man. I discovered I had my contacts out and had put on underwear instead of shorts. I told him I had to go home to change. He wouldn’t let me. We wrestled. I escaped and ran home to the LFP house. I grabbed a pair of pants and put them on. I cut down off 25th to a side street. I took off the carpentry belt I was wearing and stashed it. A couple of blocks later I stashed my back-pack over a bridge. I looked back and noticed a hitch-hiker from below was checking it out. I went back and explained. He was really friendly; trusting. He said he would stash it for me. I continued my terrifying run home. Then woke up.

Seattle, 1979

I move to Seattle, Washington

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November 10, 1979

There was one heavy emotional scene with my mother. We were touching but at arms length. I was telling her about how I couldn’t do what I really wanted. And somehow discussing how she had many relatives who told her no, she couldn’t do things. I was allowed too much freedom. Also, with my mother, I was being emotional and decided why wasn’t I hugging her instead of being at arms length. So I held her close. She was lying on top of me. All this time she was my mother, but she never appeared like Mom or seemed like her. At this point I realized that she was a woman who hadn’t really felt her womanhood in a long time. There was some sexual communication. She left after that. I looked over and on a bench were Mary and her younger brother. Half in shame and half in embarrassment but sort of like it was just too much, he ran out through some doors. I communicated with Mary about it somehow.

At one point I was watching some dumb TV show instead of doing something I’d feel better doing. I said hey, I can turn that off and enjoy something else and I did.

I woke up to a huge orange green, 3-4 inch colored spider coming down above me. It freaked me out. It turned black and came down on me. I jumped out of bed. I kept whipping it away on its silk but it climbed up on me faster than I could keep it off. Its silk got wrapped all around me in my struggle. I was screaming and yelling and terrified. I finally freed myself as people came running in to see what was happening. Mary and Mom.

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November 23, 1979

I was meeting with people who had just died and they were calmly saying so this is death. They were still alive and well in their death. At first a few told me it was because they were Christians. Then I met several others who were in the same state who weren’t Christians and realized it was just what death was. The theme of the dream seemed to be to discover more about the phenomenon. The mood of the dream was no fear, just curiosity. It felt neat.

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February 13, 1980

Anarchy. Total breakdown of society. I was inside. Outside, people were running around. Destroy. First priority was wood for fuel. Anything made of wood was being wrecked. I saw people dismantling a street light. There was some violence but not too much.

As time passed things settled down. I was with a group of people. We were packing together. I realized that as the next step.

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February 15, 1980

My roommate was Frank Burns. I was in a room across the street from the sea. Out the window I saw two very bright lights moving through space. One blue and one red. Then a smaller one separated from the blue. Then several blue ones spread out. Then they faded. Soon other varieties happened. I realized there was a war in space. Earth was not being attacked but we were in danger. I decided to find Barbara (Moravec) to be with. Lights were out. No power. I had trouble finding clothes. Frank was whimpering; crying to his mommy. I told him many times I hated him but I loved him too; that I felt for him. I told him Margaret was undoubtedly scared too and they both needed someone. He braced up and seemed resolute and strong for the first time and decided to go to her. I found my shoes, planned to bike, then left in my car with a cold engine, and finally found myself running when I encountered Mary, who knew nothing at all about the battle whereupon I realized I was dreaming. The battle scenes were many lighted and colorful.

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April 25, 1980

• I was trying to get to Joanne early in the morning. Nice feeling running and sliding on wet parking lot pavement. And running through hallways and doors. I met some deaf people. I don’t remember making it to her.

• A fancy dressed up red-haired woman was walking down the street, parading for some cause, very erect. She walked past my door. It was a hot day. She and a friend stopped at a swimming hole just past my door. I ran down to join them after a frustrating delay to replace a contact lens. They were out by the time I got there. I swam anyway. Strong sexual desire in the dream.

Bellingham, 1980

I move back to Bellingham

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June 11, 1980

I was standing behind a fence backstop watching a softball game. With somebody, maybe Stadler. A softball and a couple of players went right through the fence a few times. I figured they could do it because they did it spontaneously. Later I and Mike talked about it and tried to do it; go through the fence or a wall. I was very high. It seems like on pot. I approached a wall and stood nose and body touching it. I got into a really high vibratory state, shimmering. I pushed a little and I began to mesh with the wall. I pushed a little more and slowly slipped through the wall. What a rush! Mike was excited. It was too intense for me to do right away again. I explained to him that you simply had to be high enough then wait until you sensed the right rapport. We knew that it could be done and looked forward to more experimenting.

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June 16, 1980

Weird, weird, weird dreams last night. Maybe the most macabre ever. Too much and too weird to write except a couple of notes.

A woman escaping from a hospital. Fire escape ground fight with man. Vicious pounding heads on the ground. He finally wins, brings her back, and prunes branches off a twig signifying her body and limbs and leaves just the stalk to connect her head to for punishment.

I videophoned to Sigrid vacuuming her floor. It was a nice feeling. I appreciated the videophone.

Kids riding bikes by the Lake Forest Park School. One with a whiskey jug. A cop stopped and advised one of them. They rode in circles getting drunk from mist leaking from the cork. Cars blasting over a hump. One finally hit a kid; Gabe, I think. I, up Beck’s driveway, ran down and stopped at the road. Two cars passed, one with 2 couples. Wet women in bathing suits. Running with adrenalin. Seemed so slow. Sluggish. Frustrating. Fell. Got up. Realized the kid was moving in slow motion; distorted function of intensity of the moment. The kid was fine.

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June 17, 1980

• I dreamt about my son the little itsy bitsy fetal thing that could talk intelligently. I left it then found it in some water. I revived it. Later a bunch of us searched all over for it. We uncovered some bats; two of which drew my blood with their claws, deep in a hold of some ship. Finally we were somewhere far away and almost gave up. There were three of us. One of us had a bag of potato chips and bananas and started to open the chips. I could see the punch line coming. I alerted the other one to watch. But he wasn’t in the chips. But the banana was peeled and there he was. Somehow he got in on the banana boat.

• I followed a bunch of people up an incredibly steep cliff. It was surprisingly easy to climb without hand holds. There was a view of desolate Mt. St. Helens wasteland. I swam to a little island and observed the mountain from across the water. I was a little afraid, being so close. Then there was a huge bright splash at the base of the mountain - mud slide - and huge waves rushing across toward me. Fear. Should I swim for it and risk being caught in the water or stay and risk being washed off the island. The waves dissipated.

Finally, there were some scenes of me walking around naked after that in some public lounge. Nobody took notice.

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September 29, 1980

Myself and Barb were in a bed with another woman; a friend of Barbara’s but she accepted me warmly. She gave me nice hug.

The three of us were sitting in the bed, watching all the shoppers in the 2nd hand store. I commented on how weird it must be to wake up and find yourself in the store, but nobody paid any attention to us.

Next Barb and I headed in a straight line west, through the store, out a door, and across the top of Capitol Hill and down over the side.

Going down there was a steep path. We had to hang on to the young bush branches. It was dark. Barb went first. I held some branches for an old couple; maybe in their 70’s or 80’s but pretty healthy.

Barb made it ok with a fairly blind jump from the steep cliff part to the rocks below. I took a long time on one part. I didn’t see any foothold and couldn’t decide how to do it. Scary. The old woman suggested something and I saw the foothold I needed. I stepped down and using a branch made it down. I asked Barb, who was waiting on the rocks, if she was all right. She said sure. The older couple made it nimbly down.

At the bottom there was water. Barb (a little less like Barb now) and I were on a ride on a powerized raft type boat with several people, sort of a pleasure cruise. I remember thinking as we approached the shore we should dive off and swim ashore.

Next myself and somebody else (male, I think) were starting to head up the cliff again. Now there’s a river at the bottom. The person I was with was up ahead. I looked back. Scout was across the river and distracted and wasn’t following. I called desperately; really afraid I would lose (in the relationship sense) him. He started swimming across but just before he got to the shore he turned and swam downstream a little way and back towards the other side. Then he stopped and turned my way in the water.

I called to him plaintively, come on, don’t leave me. I knew I was losing him. I started crying (actually, really), feeling really hurt and alone. The feeling was a little like raising a child then it leaves on its own. Except I didn’t feel like he was ready. Also there was another dog or two earlier in the water tempting him to play.

In blind desperation I dove in. The water was shallow and I fended myself off the bottom with my hands. The water seemed to be swift, sort of. I was totally disoriented under the water. There was a screaming, whining sound. I couldn’t find which way was up. My breath was running out. Finally I gambled or had to take a breath and hoped somehow I’d be ok. (I think part of me knew I’d be ok because it was a dream.) I breathed and it was ok.

Next, Doug and I are on a small hill looking over a track. An announcer is giving the Seattle International Raceways blaring macho hype and we’re watching all kinds of vehicles occupying the track simultaneously. Kinds of scooters, horses, hot cars. Bizarre and insane. There were lots of wrecks. But we didn’t see anybody get hurt. While the announcer is talking there is a close-up of a pretty young woman (about 18-20) on a horse. Dressed in cutoffs and a country plaid halter. Looking cute as a picture. Then she and a younger girl behind her turn in to the track and take off. Immediately she smashes into something. There is a cloud of dust and two kids on a bike coming wheeling out, doing ok.

Doug and I are thinking, man, this is really weird. In the last scene of the track we’re watching kids playing and tricycles and so forth amidst hot cars doing wheelies and dragging.

Then Doug and I walk into a carnival. I see somebody I know working there, standing in a fairway. I tell Doug I’ll catch up with him. The person is Scout. But in a man’s body. He’s wearing a long overcoat and a smack hat. I approached. His face reflected someone who wasn’t intelligent but was able to get by. His eyes had no pupils or only very small ones. All greenish color. Cracked.

He looked at me dully. Like he didn’t recognize me or just didn’t care. I said, When you left... He interrupted, You cried. I saw you on the shore. I started emotionally mumbling, I never wanted you but then when you left. No it’s not that I never wanted you. Just that I was moving so much and I couldn’t give you the attention I should have.

The dream ended there with me emotionally babbling while he just stood there looking off.

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December 1, 1980

I was driving a car with friends to a rock going out into ocean. We climbed, walked up along the rock. I mentioned to someone the black sharks or whales I saw below. Somehow I plucked one 20 ft. whale out. A fun sort of mood. Non malicious. I threw it back in. I was a little worried about it landing wrong; it was a 20 ft. drop. But quite sure it would be ok. It dove in nicely.

Santa Cruz, 1981

I move to Santa Cruz, California

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December 28, 1980

I was holding a bride in my arms, her back to the viewer. Then she disappeared, all except for her shoes in front of me with empty arms. A voice said something like You can’t have her until you find your isle to settle on. She seemed to be near me yet invisible. It seemed like an angel. In the dream an isle seemed like it meant a place of my own.

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January 3, 1981

I was cutting limbs off of cats or something. One of them was just a head and front legs. Still it was fine and happy and playing but it ran off the end of a table and landed on its head, crushing it. I reacted with sorrow and disappointment, much like Bruce Dern when one of the drones was injured.

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February 16, 1981

I was with somebody off the Northwest coast in the ocean hanging on to the edge of 4 or 5 inch thick slab of ice stretching off into the distance. Darkness. No cold or fear. Then the edges of the ice separated and we pushed it back. I suddenly went under and like in so many previous dreams, struggled to make it to the surface. For the first time I didn’t make it. I died and instantly went reeling through space-time. Soul separation. Thinking of reincarnating. There was no sense of time but suddenly I was again in a body on the Earth. But it was the body of something like a roadrunner. I went bounding off.

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March 11, 1981

I murdered somebody savagely with an axe in a house somewhere. I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how not to get caught. There was also some other crime. The 2nd crime seemed lesser and was more or less no concern. Memory of the murder seemed vague and I kept trying to remember if it was self defense. I was also wondering if I didn’t get caught if that was right, knowing I could never be happy without a clear conscious.

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March 12, 1981

Myself and two others are out in the country. Up comes an incredible yellow train with cylindrical cars. 4 or 5 cars long. We’re all amazed. The two people sign on as crew. On a trip to Alaska. The scenery is sure to be sensational