How can this place not be real?
I’m sorry to say that since I last posted this a year ago, I’ve stopped having dreams set in those places I’ve described. What happened?
Ah, well, I don’t know. I miss the woodland path leading down to the old deserted railway cut. And the arm of Raritan Bay that reaches several extra miles inland: how often I’ve fished and boated there.
Where do dreamscapes go? These are two I’d like to have back.
I miss them!
test
https://leeduigon.com/2018/09/28/the-geography-of-dreams/
I don’t know no how these got on here, but I just can’t post a message!!@!!!!!!!!!!!@22@@@@
And as usual, I read the message at this end.
I hate computer sh**.
I am trying too!!!!
I am trying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
These are coming through to be as approved messages from “eldermike.” I don’t know how to help because everything looks just fine at my end.
If I remember my dreams when I wake up, I always write them down. Sometimes they are so vivid they wake me up. Most of them are benign, thank goodness.
“Bell Mountain” started as a dream.
Our minds are capable of visualizing things with exceptional detail, and sometimes I wonder if some inner sense of how God intended things to be is at the bottom of these experiences.
Years ago, I had a dream about a long dead relative. Life had dealt him a poor hand and he had a rough life. To compound this, he was prone to panic and visibly nervous when under stress. In my dream, he was dignified, well dressed and the sort of person who would be easy to respect. I don’t believe that this was a vision, or anything supernatural, but more a matter of seeing the core person, without the imperfections and flaws.