The Scientologist Invasion

        Morning of January 10, 2018. Wednesday.

image

        In my dream, I find myself walking around in an unknown region. There are very large fields under a night sky. Off to my left, in the distance, is an unknown female who may be checking on the farm, though the plants are only a few inches high. Beyond is an unknown male who may be her father. There is a long pathway leading into the horizon.

        I focus on the sky above (there are a few clouds here and there) and notice a bright star. The girl also looks at it at times. I notice another light, which may be an aircraft. I consider that it may be an alien spaceship, but this idea does not really go anywhere.

        I enter an unusual state where I subliminally take control of the dream and pretend that “something is coming”. Eventually, the silhouettes of a few human figures approach from the distance, walking towards me on the path.

        It turns out that they are Scientologists and that they are in control of the region. They are each carrying a futuristic rifle that needs to be anchored in the ground prior to use. I do not say anything against them. We go to an unfamiliar residence. I look at about ten of these weapons and pick one up. Other than the main rifle, there is a square metal column attached to it, which is what must be used to stabilize the weapon.

        At a later point, a young unfamiliar boy uses a strange slingshot that fires bursts of light when it hits its target. My youngest son looks on, seeming to think it is odd, yet does not seem to feel threatened. The boy only shoots it at a bookcase. (This is symbolism relating to increased neural activity towards waking, even more so in its being directed at a bookshelf full of books.)

        Near the end, I finally vocalize my dislike of these invasive Scientologists. An unknown female gets very angry and starts speaking religious gibberish. It is something to do with Easter and aliens, possibly aliens resurrecting Christ, but the rest is incoherent. She seems insane, just as a result of me not wanting to be a Scientologist (though I do not find my dream disturbing at any point).

        I pick up a rifle, but I only make “shooting noises” with my lips as my dream fades.


        Some people might assume this dream is about Scientology (which I had rarely thought about in twenty years, certainly not recently), when it is probably more about my occasional thoughts on three different older males who had proven to be strange in ways it is difficult for me to believe. (Though of course on one level, it is just the preconscious dominating the usual RAS mediation to wake me.) Back in 1989, when I had my writing (about dreams) published in a newspaper, I received only one reply. It was from an older male named Marvin (coincidentally the name of my father’s half-brother, though who had died when I was a toddler), who had sent me money to interpret his dream. I sent back the money but wrote about his dream’s details in my letter without an “interpretation”. At any rate, this was just a stalker game he was playing. He described a failed marriage (though the implications did not make much sense). He explained the “meaning” of his dream himself and went on to write about God (and the Bible), with the implication that he understood the nature of dreams (he did not), and was some sort of “messenger” who believed that dreams were “created by God”. He then even described what God looked like (as a man, implying he was like a human being), and began to make bizarre bullying comments without knowing who I was. After this, he began writing to me under different names (though made no attempt to change his handwriting), sometimes praising himself under these other names, having his letters remailed from different states and making up bizarre names for me such as “Lobo Nofeather” and going on and on about his version of God, with thinly veiled threats. I did not reply to any more of the letters from this total nut job, and eventually the letters stopped after about six months.

        Years later, on the Internet, a second older male, with an almost identical personality as the first (also with a failed marriage and also praising himself in a number of ways from a made-up identity), started to write strange comments about me in his own journal. (He had done this with other dream journalists, which I did not discover until a couple years after he originally started this practice.) He, as well, believed that he was some sort of divinely-inspired messenger who “understood dreams” and could fully understand other people just by reading their dreams. He used the word “lucid” in his email username without even knowing what the word entailed (as he believed God always had total control of the dream state). On and on he wrote, fabricating nasty claims about me and other posters (even calling me a “criminal”) when we never met (though he claimed we had). He continuously wrote mindless nonsensical claims, such as how I was “sad and lonely” (I have been happily married and with a large family for over twenty years). He wrote that I was probably getting money from the government for mental illness (which makes no sense, as I am an American living in Australia, so where would the funding come from, not that I care). He made threats in his posts, which included taking out a gun when my children were playing in his yard (in a supposed dream), even comparing me to Lucifer because I was not a Vegan but also because I had children (and also because I have a fulfilling sexual relationship with Zsuzsanna, against his claim that sexual relationships should not exist even though his dream posts were full of creepy content as such about other dream journalists he supposedly dreamt about). He claimed I had been “obsessed with his dreams for years”, when I had only known of him, rather his username, for about a year previously (though did not actually read his journal until around the time he started making these claims – and I also discovered he had been taking content from my journal as well as claiming to have a dream about my dream so as to make fun of it in his commentary), though I did not believe his “dreams” were real accounts (as they mainly seemed so linear and mundane that they did not sound like legitimate dream content, especially as to how he used his “dreams” to abuse other posters, for example, dreams of invading the bedrooms of other posters and touching them while they were sleeping or beating them up). He wrote about how what other people thought of his stalking did not matter, that his writing (and abuse of other Internet dream journalists) was “art” directed by God. To this day, he still writes creepy entries about other dream journalists (mostly from the dream journal website) on his website, with claims they are “jealous” of him. He actually thinks it is okay to write about people he does not know (with their username and sometimes their real name) with creepy content (and that it is okay to write about “dream sex” with them, as they are “in the public eye” – while oddly going on and on at the same time about his preference for celibacy), and his apparent greatest joy is to “dream about other dream journalists” (and write about them in any manner he chooses). He has stated that he believes he can control other people’s minds with hidden messages in their dreams (and these comments on other user’s posts are still visible on the dream journal website, though his account is no longer visible after his ban).

        As with the other two older males, along comes a third, also with a failed marriage (making even stranger claims than the other two regarding his presumed victimization), also being the only person to regularly write dream comments to any extent, also going on and on about God and the Bible with the same pretense of understanding dreams as the other two had, and also making bizarre thinly veiled threats (even in his profile), though comparing himself to a science-fiction character (also implying in comments that Vulcans are real). In this case however, I confronted him and told him to stop reading my posts and commenting on them and to stop haranguing me. Unlike the other two, it seems he actually listened.

        So there you have it. When people start talking about their version of God (especially in a bullying context) or their pretense of “interpretation” over something I wrote, I usually stop listening. Because, other than developing a deep and defined understanding of my dreams and the dream state, I have experienced miraculous events on a regular basis since childhood, including an inexplicable healing of my left wrist and hand after a near-fatal accident as a toddler; and I have ultimately been very happy throughout my life, especially as I had met and married my literal dream girl (who looked exactly as she did in my dreams and is curiously the most beautiful female I had ever encountered in my lifetime). The world is full of insane and pushy people who pretend to hold authority or intelligence over someone they do not know and the pretense that their version of God is that which has “answers” (even when there are no questions). Coincidentally, these three males had the same basic background and belief system, and at least two of them are still at it.

        Ironically, to say the least, I read yesterday on another site, yet another post that propagates that old bizarre relentless myth, of anyone who “has dreams” (especially vivid dreams) must have mental health issues. This is like saying that someone who has a stomach that digests food must have a problem with his or her anatomy. I confess I have never ultimately learned what is wrong with people, though Zsuzsanna and I discuss this on a regular basis. It is a legitimate puzzle. There are SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE on this planet…and yet…only three males (of a very similar nature) who had given me more negative attention over the years in this particular way, all with the opposite viewpoint of my life from what it has actually been. It only serves to convince me that something inexplicable is at work. (No, I am not religious, but something does not add up.)


Leave a Comment:

SCROLL TO TOP