J O U R N A L :::

March 09, 2001

There's a very tight buzzy feeling enveloping me, so much that it wakes me. I hesitate at the point between sleep and try to capture the feeling thinking it might be astral. I can see the doorway just fine as the living room light is on, as usual. My instincts were to check the doorway for figures. I didn't see anything strange and let sleep start to claim me again when I noticed I was lifting off the bed. So maybe I was projecting, but it didn't feel right, too tight and little mobility.
Something, I don't know, something drew my attention back to the door but there was still nothing there. But the worries were already started and I struggled against the pull and looked down at the bed. My body wasn't there (as I've seen in past projections), I was all me, up in the air.

A terrible anger, incensure, came over me and I struggled against the buzz which quickly grew weak (maybe because I wasn't the focus?), and found myself plopped on the bed. I stood, afraid to confront anything, but afraid not to and screamed, "How dare you come in here! Get the hell out of my house!"
The house suddenly went pitch dark, and I tripped over one of the dogs as I ran out to go to Alex's room, still screaming, "Get out of my house! Get out now!" and ran into a flailing of many arms which strangely were at my head height, something very tall. I smacked at long thin arms and hands, not intending to hurt, but as a warning that if they didn't go, I would hurt one. (yeah, right, and who for that matter)

A voice in my head said, "Stop! It's just me!" And when I looked, it was my brother, who is tall.
I stopped slapping at him, but I was still angry and told him he shouldn't be sneaking in my house, that I didn't like things sneaking around in the dark. And then walking behind me, he led me to the living room and there were other people there, and that's all I remember.

So I pondered the strangeness a bit this morning and then set it aside. A bit later Alex came to me and said, "I had a weird dream last night." And the hair on my neck stood up. "It was another dream about the tornados." And all I could think was, oh shit.
Her dream consisted of herself, her best friend, and winnie the Pooh, and a horde of tornadoes swooping round the house. Pooh went to get honey, and she told him to come back that it wasn't safe. They hid in a small green house hanging onto sticks coming from the floor, then something warned them and they traveled (no description) and ended up at Shoreline Park, which she refered to as 'that little beach park in Gulf Breeze'. She described it accurately, has been there only once.

So they were at the park and she looked up in the sky and saw another tornado coming down and hid with another neighborhood friend under one of the tables.
She didn't express any fear about the dream, and said, "I was just sick of seeing them." She did say there were at least five different ones, that came and went. Each one would come and then leave to be replaced by a new one.

I certainly don't think she went to GB, but I thought maybe she made some kind of unconcious connection to GB and what it stands for (ufo conferences), and the dream content, and put them together in her mind.

I've also had a urges in the last week or so to drive out to Shoreline Park. Very strong only two nights ago, that I almost went on the pretense of looking for kerosene ;). I've been very depressed lately, more so than in a long time. And after today's revelations on last night, I now suspect why.