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Written on June 6, 2006, and categorized as Secret and Invisible.
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I’ve been dreading this day, 6.6.6, for about ten months, after a dream I had, in which I entered a supermarket in order to buy provisions. It was late afternoon, maybe early evening. It reminded me of Stroud, or perhaps Purley – modern construction surrounded by mature green trees.

For some reason, the main entrance doors were closed, but I found another way, sneaking in through the exit. It didn’t help me though, as I realised I couldn’t buy anything since the cashiers were ringing up the tills.

I left the supermarket with a strange dream-non-dream feeling. This is a feeling I get from time to time – once I had it for the entire month before Diana died. I was depressed at the time, which meant I misinterpreted the dream-non-dream feeling as my own, imminent, physical death. In my defense, I did wake up with the resounding phrase as if spoken to me in my mind. “I have not got long to live.” A month later, she died, and I was so relieved.

These dream-non-dream feelings can be dreams, can be feelings. They are like dreams in that they appear as visions or auditory experiences which I am actually living in that pseudo-life way, which is convincing until you awake. They leave behind an unmistakable feeling of portent – I am being allowed a glimpse into the future, the fabric of usual time is torn, and some chink of the light to come shines through for a moment.

Having left the supermarket, in the dream I was thinking about my bad timing – I had not been able to take what I wanted because I’d got there after the tills were closed, despite being in the shop. I could have taken things from the shelves and ran, of course, but even in my dreams I am essentially honest. I recall being in the evening car park, a few solitary vehicles spotting the supermarket tarmac.

I left this place with a feeling of perturbation, and walking, found myself shortly at a long veranda adjacent to single storey wooden building, looking out onto a garden and a rural view beyond, where three grey haired women sat on chairs in the evening light, facing the sunset. I asked them what they were waiting for. “Six,” one of them replied. The response felt much more meaningful than just a number or a time.

The next morning, I could not get this dream out of my head, and many times considered and reconsidered the meaning of the dream in the days and weeks that followed. I put the supermarket and their warning together and came up with a dream-non-dream interpretation. I decided that the biggest meaning was – if I wanted something, some resource, I must not delay, or else I might get there, be surrounded by the things I want, and yet for the reason of arriving past the point where my money is spendable, fail to buy.

The three women (witches, clearly) were warning me not to waste time – there would be a cut-off point after which my money (energy) was useless. Six – well, in the dream that meant maybe six p.m. But in reality it meant six months, or maybe 2006 (I had the dream in 2005) or maybe, June, the sixth month. Or maybe, the ominous date, 6.6.6. But it was definitely six something and I had to bear this in mind.

Well, here we are, 6.6.6. I have worked incredibly hard since that dream, never shaking that dream-non-dream feeling, warning anyone that will listen that the stable economy we have enjoyed in Britain will not last. Ten months ago, I looked ahead and saw that the USA was going into bankruptcy because of Iraq. Sure enough, the dollar is now perilously weak and Bush has practically exhausted the richest nation in the world. When America slides, we all fall.

I have always been like this. I don’t dare disregard my occasional clairvoyance, but I only ever make partial interpretations, and I am forced to wait and see. I kind of wish I was a practical type, not susceptible to suggestion, who never read a Lyall Watson book, but then, I wouldn’t have composed, made art, or written a single word of fiction.

I saw the line of women when I went to see the west end show,The Producers. I had a mild shock of recognition at that point – not only the grey hair, but the place in the theatre from which I was seeing the show obscured all but three of the women, and the angle was perfect. It was ironic. “Springtime for Hitler, and Germany…” Mel Brooks kind of helped me deal with the more morbid side of the dream-non-dream feeling. On the plus side, I have worked hard on my health since the dream, financial of course, but also physical – I don’t drink anymore. I’d say I was happier in general. If I survive today, I’ll keep my head down until July 1st, and then we’ll see how the rest of 2006 pans out.

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This thing has 6 Comments

  1. Miss Wired
    Posted 6 June, 2006 at 11:55 am | Permalink

    I have dreams which are much more “wishy washy” than yours but still have exact scenes from future real-life in them.

    I sat at my desk and described a workplace-related dream to a colleague one day.

    Throughout that day portions of the dream came true with both of us in shock.

    Tell us more of your dreams when you can. 🙂

  2. Indigobusiness
    Posted 6 June, 2006 at 11:58 am | Permalink

    I know precisely what you mean, in all respects.

    Man oh man, do I know, but I never framed it quite that way.

    Lucid.

  3. teddY
    Posted 6 June, 2006 at 1:29 pm | Permalink

    Golly, sometimes the dreams that I had are easily forgotten, but then when the things that happened in my dreams do take place in real life, I have this strong deja vu feeling.

    Maybe these dreams can be explain as out-of-body experience? My brother had this experience before. He was walking back from school and then he claimed that he suddenly saw HIMSELF walking ahead of HIM. He freaked out, as he saw the one in front of him (who is HE himself) falling down.

    As he awakes from that out-of-body travel, he really did fall into a drain or a ditch nearby my house.

    Scary.

  4. China Blue
    Posted 6 June, 2006 at 2:20 pm | Permalink

    I’m interested to know: do you own any dream dictionaries or tried to analyse the more obtuse aspects of your dreams?

  5. Angel
    Posted 6 June, 2006 at 11:09 pm | Permalink

    It’s not 666, it’s 616!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    Google it.

  6. Laurie
    Posted 7 June, 2006 at 12:44 am | Permalink

    I loved these last two posts. It was like sitting having a conversation with you.

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