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Life is but a dream

A journal of dreams, poems and waking life stories.

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Category Archives: Waking Life

The nightmare before Manchester

Posted on June 25, 2017 by angelacwatford
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Dream:

This place is huge. Blacks and grays surround me from the wings as I stand in an open space, stage right. The mood is busy and focused. A crew of stagehands cross the black floor carrying chords and gear in preparation for an event – maybe a ceremony? The venue is flooded with light overhead – open and airy as if we are outside on a cloudy morning.

I think of the possibilities. Perhaps this is a graduation ceremony, or a time and place to honor a special individual. Maybe this will be the place of a great speech. Positivity is in the air. At least until I see… them.

Far beyond the stage, I witness evil “beings” like chess pieces taking their seats, lining up with anticipation for something I cannot even begin to imagine. These satanic creatures file one-by-one through an opening in a low brick wall of protection that resembles a jury box with two rows of three seats.

One of them is a rook, a little castle with glowing yellow eyes. It takes the front-row middle seat. Another is a man with a long black cloak. He lets the hood drape over his head casting shadows, dark as night, over his face. He stands over the third figure – what looks to be an atom, translucent with tiny lights swirling and moving around it in a knot.

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The group is waiting patiently for the atom to finish forming in its place. They are nearly ready… but for what? Something satanic, something purely evil and sinister. I can feel it with all of my soul.

I look away before identifying the other three beings. I am too overwhelmed with rage and fear scanning the room for answers. They should NOT be here!

A man approaches and sits down before me with knees crossed on the floor, ready to talk about what they have planned. Wearing short-sleeves and a wide smile, his trimmed black hair and sideburns frame his face. His eyes are open and large with heavy eyebrows raised as if he is eagerly waiting for the answer to a question. He seems pretty excited and proud of himself.

Before he can utter any words, I openly scold him with a righteous rebuke that could cut with a sword.

“I know what you’re doing here! You’re not going to get away with this, and the POWER of GOD IN HEAVEN will rain FIRE upon you!”

I watch his pupils dilate like windows opening to reveal the black-hole within him. I take this as an invitation to reprimand his soul directly. He silently pulls back letting the silly smirk on his face turn over as words that I do not even recall ever having in my bones spew out of my mouth. Words of condemnation and wrath. By the frightened look on his face, I can tell that he has never heard these particular words before.

The rook, motionless and mute, looks at me from across the room.

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Everyone looks. I know they hear me… but I will not be silenced. I shout louder so all of the creatures can hear about the coming judgement upon their heads!

Something shoves me out of the scene like a door slamming in my face. Everything disappears in a cloudy mist.

—

My eyes blink slowly and redirect me to a new place – a small, sunlit-white bedroom. I’m resting comfortably on a twin bed donned with fluffy white down comforters that cradle my body. It feels like a Saturday morning.

On the wall above my feet, there’s a non-working mahogany wall clock. It must be an antique – maybe mid 19th century. Clean white face, dark wood curves – I squint my eyes and try to make out the time, but for some reason, I just can’t grasp it. To my surprise and enjoyment, my dad walks through the door on the right and carefully takes the clock off the wall. He sits down beside me and turns it over.

“We’ve got to fix this thing. I’m resetting it to November 11.”

Holding its plug into a bowl of salt, he recharges the clock and sets the dial. Perfect.

 

Waking life: 

On May 22, 2017, around 7 am PDT I awoke from this terrible nightmare with so many questions. The answers came later that evening. What I believe I witnessed was the evil preparation before the Manchester Arena bombing.

The days that followed were filled with sadness and grief. Seeing images of the perpetrator’s face still sends chills up my spine due to his strong resemblance to the man I scolded in the dream. The only consolation I feel after all of this is knowing that I tried my best to condemn the evil, but there’s only so much one can do while dreaming – even in a lucid state.  In waking life, all we have is prayer.

 

 

Posted in Dream (B)log, Waking Life | Tagged dream, dream sharing, dreams, lucid dreaming | Leave a reply

Some dreams cannot be ignored

Posted on January 2, 2014 by angelacwatford
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Waking life:

If there ever is a time that I don’t feel like writing, it’s usually after a nightmare. I apologize for stepping away from the keyboard recently, but I haven’t been able to wrap my head around a series of disturbing, confusing and down right horrifying dreams. It’s only natural that since I dream every night, they won’t all be about rainbows, lollipops and butterflies. But when the inevitable happens, I just can’t bring myself to write it down in detail. Each dream is a unique experience that often feels very real, and can affect me emotionally more than some waking life events. I choose not to relive those moments much like we all try to forget certain events in the past.

My intentions usually are to ignore the messages and mentally delete them as quickly as possible; however, sometimes the dreams poke and prod at my memory – refusing to be shoved aside like yesterday’s leftovers.

The question always is, how should I deal with nightmares?

It’s hard to know sometimes if one night’s sleep is just a random fleeting moment, or if there really is a meaning to it all. I’d love to tell you that I have a scientific formula for dealing with this stuff, but that would be a blatant lie. Usually, I just try to move on with my life and if anything unusual happens, I can look back and make the connection. Unfortunately, this doesn’t always work out well. In the case of one dream, my tendency to ignore potentially psychic messages was exercised at a loved one’s expense.

In that dream, someone special and particularly close to me was extremely distraught, crying in anguish over an illness and the pressing thought of dying. It broke my heart to the very core to see her this way. After waking, I immediately called to check-in and make sure she was ok. To my surprise, she did not seem upset at all, rather she told me that everything was fine. I believed her and decided that the dream was meaningless. It wasn’t until a month later that she revealed to me that she had been severely depressed and actually couldn’t stop crying for weeks. This prompted her doctor to prescribe some much-needed medication.

It occurred to me that what I witnessed while asleep was in fact happening in waking life, and whether she wanted to tell me about it or not, I still found out. If I had listened to the message in the dream or pressed harder for information, I feel that I could have been more supportive to one of the most important people in my life. I’m ashamed that I ignored this dream, and as always, I am learning from my mistakes – even if the only thing I could have done was provide a shoulder to cry on.

Not all is lost, though. This person is doing much better now, and I am especially sympathetic to her situation after having seen her in this dream. Maybe I was never meant to change the outcome, but simply understand and empathize with someone who I love so dearly.

Posted in Waking Life | Tagged dream, Dream interpretation, Dream Journals, dream sharing, Psychology, Waking Life | Leave a reply

Be true to yourself

Posted on September 11, 2013 by angelacwatford
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Waking life:

I admit that I haven’t been true to myself over the last few years. I’ve been bottling up my dreams of writing poetry, songs and stories and sharing them with others. As a child, I can remember spending hours dreaming and writing without constraint – without the responsibilities and pressures of the real world to drown out my creativity. Now that I’m an adult, I’ve become so focused on working to survive that my personal time has suffered, and I’ve been too exhausted and overwhelmed by life to enjoy it.

A dear friend recently told me that she actually liked one of my dream posts (I was surprised that anyone read it), and she encouraged me to keep writing. This is the same person who, in my dream True Colors, tattooed a mural on my legs. She forced me to recognize what I love to do, and gave me a way to express myself with a permanent display of colors and ideas for everyone to see. The drawings represented a part of me that I could no longer hide and it was an amazing relief to let it show.

Do you have a hidden talent or passion that you’d like to share with others?

Sometimes we just need a bit of encouragement from our respected friends to move forward with our goals. It’s also equally as important to provide emotional support to our friends. In this way, I’d like to extend my own support to you. Please know that you can and you should do what makes you happy as long as it doesn’t include harming or stepping on someone else to get what you want. That’s not what I’m talking about. To put it simply – just be yourself.

As my father once told me, “Never depend on anyone but yourself to make you happy.” You alone know what brings you joy in life and nobody else can figure this out for you. I’ve realized that after years of suppressing my own passion for writing, I was not being true to myself. Now, I am determined to make my dreams a reality and I hope that you can do the same.

Best wishes and sweet dreams!

 

Posted in Waking Life | Tagged dream, dream sharing, Waking Life | 1 Reply

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angelacwatford

angelacwatford

As a lover of all things artistic, I especially enjoy writing and of course dreaming. Sometimes these paths cross and dreams turn into songs and drawings or paintings. My waking life and dream life are equally a part of my story.

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