• 2011 - I had entered a room situated in a lighthouse and I saw two co-workers working in the dark. I felt puzzled because there were stacks of paper in the room, almost like an animation studio. These co-workers did not see me enter, they just kept on with their business. They seemed to be searching for something. I asked why the light wasn't turned on so they could work. No reply. I called out to them again, asking one of them to turn on the lighthouse. They looked at me as if i was insane and muttered something I didn't hear or didn't understand. I was confused and said, "This is a lighthouse, but there is no light here." I think I said this to myself and not to them because they couldn't or wouldn't hear.
  • 2012 - I was in a hotel room, I was very drowsy, or very sleepy, or very drunk. Just right in font of my bed was a TV set. The TV was on but I had turned off the screen, so I could see a little red light that shone in absolute annoyance. I turned the room light off, and the red light of the TV was even more glaring. Despite its size, it left me wide awake.
  • 25 March 2013 - My estate was under attack. A group of people dressed in black were shooting anchors from the 1st floor to the block opposite from where I live. The anchors stuck onto the balconies of the block and the opressors were lifted up as they held onto the rope of their anchor devises. My neighbours who struggled were terribly treated, some slapped on the face, others shot... on the face. I was standing on my balcony too shock to move as I watched what was unfolding a block away. The next thing I knew, an anchor shot above my balcony and I saw the hook cling onto my balcony wall. They were coming for us now. I ran back into the living room and alerted my dad who was in the kitchen. My mother and brothers were not home. An oppressor climbed over my balcony and I stood in utter horror knowing that the end of my life was fast approaching. He looked around the house quickly and carelessly and stopped for a while in front of a frame hung on my wall. It read - 'Christ is the head of this house. The unseen guest at every meal, the silent listener to every conversation.' Then he walked over to my dad and with his knife, carved on his chest the Roman numerals XXV. He did this quickly as if he'd done it a million times before. He carved XXV on me too but not before I pleaded with him to be a little gentler, which he was (showed that he still had a bit of heart). He exited the house as suddenly as he had arrived. I knew exactly what was going on. It was planned all along. On the week of Easter, they were going to persecute the universal church. We were marked. I told my dad we had to head to the church. They were coming for them. Just when I arrived at the front of the church, I saw them on a humvee heading towards my church. I looked across at the other church situated not far from us. There was chaos and shrilling screams of my brothers and sisters trying to flee. I ran straight into my church and shouted at the top of my lungs "GET OUT! GET OUT! They're here! GET OUT!!!" Everyone panicked. I saw in the glass window of the library, an Elder of the church conducting a meeting or session of some sort and I as I write this I remember the look on his eyes for just that split second, when our eyes met and he saw in mine fear and great burden. I saw my mother in the crowd and I herded along several other ladies too shocked to move. I snapped them out of their fear and told them to get out of the premises with specific instructions - 'Go this way fast and when you're out and a little further from the church or any church for that matter, walk. Normally. Blend in with the crowd doing their daily shopping. Go to Chinatown. And let me know that you are safe but do not tell me where you are.' Everyone was running out now. But there was the other floors. There were children still upstairs. There was data in the church office that had to be deleted or destroyed. And there were Membership books that had to be shredded. I ran up the floors shouting that everyone flee immediately - 'Split the children up! A few kids for every one adult and flee! They mustn't know that this a Sunday School group.' I left them and headed to the 3rd floor - the Church Office. It was locked. I felt hopeless but just in time, a friend came up and we knew immediately what we had come up for, no words were needed to state our motives. He bashed through the glass of the office and together we destroyed all hardware and shredded everything that needed to be shredded - every name cleared, every face erased, and everyone untraceable. I don't know if my friend and I managed to escape because the dream ends here. The interesting thing is, because I don't know Roman numerals, I did not know what number XXV was in my dream, until I awoke and keyed in the digits on Google did I realise XXV was 25, the date I had this dream.
mar 24 2013 ∞
may 23 2013 +