mimpi

Lebaran, Mendadak Sirion- Deja Lover

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 02:25:00 +0000

Aging Solution

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 24 May 2010 08:41:00 +0000

Anti-aging medicine is a medical specialty founded on the application of advanced scientific and medical technologies for the early detection, prevention, treatment, and reversal of age-related dysfunction, disorders, and diseases.

It is a healthcare model promoting innovative science and research to prolong the healthy human lifespan. As such, anti aging medicine is based on principles of sound and responsible medical care that are consistent with those applied in other preventive health specialties.

OXIS International, Inc. is engaged in those research, development and sale of products that counteract the harmful effects of “oxidative stress.”

They focus on naturally occurring protective substances since they are more likely to be both safe and efficacious. Their primary products incorporate and emphasize the multifaceted “super antioxidant” compound, L-Ergothioneine (“ERGO”), as a key component. They own several patents and pending applications related to ERGO that cover current and planned products relevant to their nutraceutical and cosmecuetical businesses. Their patents and patent applications address ERGO’s protective effects and activities and the ERGO manufacturing process. Do visit Oxis on facebook to learn more.

IMPLIKASI ASSESSMENT DAN DIAGNOSIS PADA ANAK PENDERITA GANGGUAN PENDENGARAN TERHADAP TREATMENT DAN PENDIDIKANNYA - Melly Latifah

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 02:25:00 +0000

IMPLIKASI ASSESSMENT DAN DIAGNOSIS PADA ANAK PENDERITA GANGGUAN PENDENGARAN TERHADAP TREATMENT DAN PENDIDIKANNYA - Melly Latifah

Alternative Energy

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 07:21:00 +0000

One of the best ways to use energy in an efficient way is by making use of cogeneration of electricity and heat (also known as combined heat and power or CHP), thus limiting waste heat. It also applies to waste incineration. The heat developed in the incineration process can be used for district heating but also for industrial purposes, pre-treatment of fuel and for biogas production. In order to calculate if the cogeneration process is highly efficient, harmonized reference values have to be used. The list includes reference values for electricity and heat from solid biodegradable (municipal) waste, liquid biodegradable waste and biogas, in order to promote the use of high efficiency cogeneration with such fuels.

The use of biomass, i.e. the biodegradable fraction of products, wastes and residues from agriculture (including vegetal and animal substances), forestry and related industries, as well as the biodegradable fraction of industrial and municipal waste, is count towards the renewable energy targets.

In general estimation, around half of the overall 20% renewable energy target will be met from bio-energy. It needs a set of sustainability criteria for the use of bio-fuels and bio-liquids, while encouraging the use of bio-wastes, e.g. cooking oil or bio-methane, for developing so-called second-generation bio-fuels. Also foresees on a need for sustainability criteria for all other uses of biomass for alternative energy purposes.

N-Viro International Corporation develops and licenses its technology to municipalities and private companies. Their patented processes use lime and/or mineral-rich, combustion by products to treat, pasteurize, immobilize and convert waste water sludge and other bio-organic wastes into bio-mineral agricultural and soil-enrichment products with real market value. The company has generated sales in excess of $40 million dollars, since its initial public offering in October of 1993, which was underwritten by Robertson Stephens, Raymond James, Oppenheimer & Co., and Paine Webber. Do visit the official website at http://www.nviro.com.

Gender-Bender Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 04:53:00 +0000

Alright, so recently, Ariisu had this dream which was a bit odd to say the least. It started off kind of normal, She was going to school at LSU (though she currently attend Auburn) and while she was there she meet up with her ex-boyfriend (even though he's currently at UNCC), but the weird thing was, he was a girl. And not only that, but a girl that looked nothing like him (nor that attractive in her opinion) but for some reason in her dream, she immediately knew it was him and she behaved as if he had always been a girl.

Then later in the dream as they're mucking about the swamps (because in her dream LSU's campus is a labyrinth of swamps), he/she says that they should start dating again and she was like "Yeah sure!" and so the dream continues on and they behave like a basically normal couple (well...as normal as being in a LSU swamp campus).

The dream ends with alligator monsters but that's not really what she is curious about. She is more interested in the meaning behind the rest of the stuff involving her ex-boyfriend/girlfriend(?). Another weird point of the dream is that her current boyfriend came from Louisiana and is a fan of LSU.

Home Sick

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Every single night Kim dream that her teeth are falling out.
Every. Single. Night.
And of all the dreams in the world, these are the most real.
She usually lose about 2 or 3 teeth. It either happens that she start to notice the tooth is loose, and she prod at it with her tongue obsessively until she decide to rip it out like she would when she was a child... or the tooth crumbles and she is able to remove it in pieces.

Every. Single. Night.
Tonight will be no different. Tonight she will lose more teeth and believe it is real, and wake up confused as to why her teeth all remain. Every time she wake up with such a feeling of hopelessness... but relief that those events haven't transpired.
Every. Single. Night.
So... what does this mean? How can she keep having the same dream over and over. It must mean SOMETHING. And why teeth?

The internet has this to offer:
"If feelings of loss of control, helplessness or powerlessness accompany your tooth loss dream, the dream is typically acting as a mirror of a situation in waking life. Dreams of tooth loss coupled with anxiety reflect a fear of change, fear of transition. Ask yourself if there is some transition that you are fearful of making.

Sometimes tooth loss dreams point to a fear of failure or embarrassment. In waking life, when people lose teeth, they often cover their mouths when talking or smiling. Is there something you want to do but are afraid of undertaking because you fear you'll look foolish if you fail? Or is there something going on in your waking life that you feel you must hide or 'cover up'?

Losing teeth in dreams can also point to insecurity about finances. In physical waking life, teeth are what we use to take in sustenance, to keep our bodies fit and nourished, and they are often lost when malnutrition is present. In order to take in nourishment we must be able to 'support' ourselves. Are you worried that you will lose the ability to take care of yourself or are you already not taking care of your needs? Nourishing ourselves comes in many forms, not just our bodily needs--we must nourish our minds, spirits, and hearts as well as our bodies. Is there any aspect of your life that feels like an empty hole?"

Doesn't that hit the nail on the fucking head?
Those 3 things are the most key points to her life right now. And it's not just one or two websites that say this... but ALL of them say things along this line... and about how "teeth falling out in dreams is the single most commonly requested dream interpretation".
So this can't be bullshit.

She have been having these dreams for weeks, and she have had them before a couple years ago when she first started college.
They're disturbing, relentless, and clearly mean something.

The second most recurring dream she have is slightly more disturbing for her, in her opinion.
Every time her family moves to a new house.
The house is different each time. Sometimes it's even into their old house in Spruce, but it's much nicer. The house is always huge and really nice.
Every time, soon after they move... someone returns their poodle Kirby to them after him being missing for 2 years.
Every time they are so happy to have him back... and can't believe he's alive and he still remembers them... and life settles back in as normal with Kirby back in their lives.
And it feels so right. And it feels so real.
And every time before the dream ends, Kirby leaves again in some fashion. Either he dies or runs away or something...
But the dream never ends with Kirby.

How fucking depressing is that? That's the single most depressing thing she can think of. Every other night she dream her dead dog comes back to her. She have had this dream almost every other night since she have been in Japan. Every other night her beloved Kirby comes back to her and every other night she lose him again.
She lose him over and over and over and over.
She don't really need anyone to interpret this for her. She know full well what it means.

The moving to a new house represents their move to the country, where they live now. Kirby never got used to living there. In many ways she think it drove him insane.
Kirby being returned to them in her dreams means "coming home" in a sense. Kirby will always be a part of her. He will always be home. A part of their family, even though he's gone.
Losing Kirby at the end of the dream represents the change in her life and her family's life between the old house and the new one. Everything changed when they moved there. EVERYTHING. So many bad things happened since they moved there... but these days, so many good things have happened. She became an adult there. Her family grew apart and grew back together there.

Kirby came there and so soon after... died there.
Kirby's gone. He's not coming back. She know that full well. But it was the way that Kirby left her. The ambiguous way. The stupid way that keeps that small stupid and naive hope in her heart that he's still out there. That maybe he got away and someone found him and cared for him and loved him and that he's still alive and there's still a chance that he'll come home.
She know that isn't true. But the child in her still persists with this open ended and hopeful feeling.
And her dreams are endlessly haunted because of this.
Kirby died just as absolutely everything in her life was changing. A new home. A new major in school. New friends. New job. New everything.
She think she cling to him because it's a form of clinging to the past.
It's amazing how such things can affect without knowing. How much a little, gray toy poodle she had for 5 years affected her.... and haunts her.
On a similar topic, they all well know that she want a bird fairly soon. She have wanted a bird her entire life. A big bird as a companion.

The real reason she want a bird for a pet?
She cannot handle losing her pets. She cannot handle her pets dying. The thought of losing Spooky or Miss Lena... both of whom she think will be the next pets to go.... it kills her. She cant imagine life without Lena. She is her one, true soul mate. She have known this for years. If she could grant one person immortality it would be her. She can't live without her. And she spend everyday apologizing to her in her mind for leaving her.
What a horrible thing she have done.
But anyway, she want a parrot, like a cockatoo or Amazon so that she have a life partner in her pet. Someone who will stay with her forever... and die with her.
She will always have dogs she is sure... but her bird will always be with her.
She want to find that life partner within the next 2 years. She want to buy him as a baby and have him with her forever.
She honestly hope whoever she marry can accept a bird because the bird thing is non-negotiable. She would have to say that is the single non-negotiable thing for her when she get married.
She don’t think it's too much to ask!

Anyway, it's clear that she is just letting her emotions get away with her again. It's clear when she write things like this that she have had too much time to sit and think.
Which is all the fucking time.
She is sick, she is tired, she is miserable. She wish she could go home in a week or two.
She have so much to take care of before she leave. She have so much anxiety about quitting her job... She is tempted to make up some bullshit sob story in order to avoid feeling guilty for leaving.
It's a part time job though she think they'll be okay. But the problem is that Tony absolutely adores her... She can tell he loves her. She know he's going to be upset. Same with her students. A few people are really going to be upset.

But she can't think about them. She have to do this. She have to do this for her. She have to leave Japan. She really do.
She might get that ski job... She want it dearly... but she don’t think she can accept it anymore.
Her heart is really yearning for home. For arms around her. For the loving embrace of people who love her.
Her heart is yearning for some of this stress and fear to go away. She live in constant fear here... and this is too hard to keep up.
She have never been more miserable in her life.
Her face is all sunken from not eating properly, because she can't afford to eat properly.
She is sick and she just want her Mom to bring her a cup of tea.
She want to be able to call Branden without having to plan a certain time for over a month to do so.
She want to be able to fucking see him.
Oh God she is in despair.

The Myth about Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 20:16:00 +0000

As fun surfing in cyberspace, late afternoon a few days ago, I was startled by the question of my second son who was about to graduate high school. He asked about what is the the dream ?.

A good question. He did not ask about the interpretation of dreams, but starting from the dream scene itself.

Frankly I was surprised to hear the question. Most of all because I happen to build my own theory about dream.

The theory is still raw, I can not conclude it yet. How do I answer that interesting question?. Finally, I just explain my theory that the dream is a picture of this life.

Let us look, can we plan a dream? I do not know about you but I could never dream of in accordance with previous plans. My dreams just happens. I can not manage what my dreams tonight. This is not a movie screen where you can choose what movie to watch. But it is more like watching TV, thanks so, what is shown, that is seen. Sometimes the atmosphere is fun, other times seemed dark. Just very similar with our life, is not it?.

I often ask, is there a special message in it? There are some myths about dreams. In biblical dreams Joseph interpreted the pharaoh who could save the nation of Israel. All sorts of dreams, ranging from riding a bike, eat meatballs until drowned in the river, all have numbers. This number is then registered to the committee "illegal gambling". If lucky, you figure out as a winner and get the cash. Well ... I do not intend to be the one also dreamed of winning the lottery billions of dollars. I also do not intend to commercialize the meaning of dreams like others do.

Furthermore, what does the myth meant? The impossibility of establishing a satisfactory definition of "myth" has not deterred scholars from developing theories on the meaning and interpretation of myth, which usually provide bases for a hypothesis about origins. Useful surveys of the principal theories are easily available, so that we shall attempt to touch upon only a few theories that are likely to prove especially fruitful to the student or are persistent enough to demand his attention. One thing is certain: no single theory of myth can cover all myths. The variety of traditional tales is matched by the variety of their origins and significance, so that any monolithic theory cannot succeed in achieving universal applicability.

Naked in The Office

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 05:48:00 +0000

Fldbyher was heading to his office and when he sat down to work he realized he was not wearing any pants or underwear. Naked in his office! He was out of his mind with anxiety, it was so upsetting as he closed the door and tried to think of a way to get out to his car! His admin, ( she is about 60) came in to drop off some work and she stood over his desk as he stayed in his chair hoping she would not notice his nakedness from the waist down.

He had a shirt but that was all. She came in again and asked if something was wrong. He said no and hoped she would leave but she closed the door and turned to him and smiled a devilish smile that made him fill with worry AND god ..He was getting an erection. It was humiliating, she said she had a pair of slacks in her office and he was going to have to wear them.

He can't understand this but he have had similar dreams since!

cag ah

Running Down a Dirt Road

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 09:08:00 +0000

Joyce Maynard felt as hard as it was sometimes caring for her children when they were little, back in those days she at least stood a reasonable chance of protecting her sons and daughter from pain and loss. The hard part hits later, when — fiercely as you love this person and desperately as you may worry — you can’t come to your child’s rescue. Worse, what you imagined you were doing to protect her may actually end up inflicting another form of injury, as her actions easily could have, in what happened between her daughter and she in the story she tell here.

It was the fall of 2001, and the world felt like a particularly dangerous place. Her children were grown and out on their own — one son at college, the other bumming around West Africa. Her daughter, Audrey, 22, had left to spend six months volunteering with a women’s organization in a poor town in the Dominican Republic.

Not long after Audrey started living in Barahona she e-mailed that she had met a young man, Johnny, who ran a kind of taxi service, offering rides on the back of his motorcycle. He had given her a lift.

She didn’t tell me much, but she knew Johnny had come to the Dominican Republic from Haiti in search of a better life. Audrey said he was handsome, smart, funny, a great dancer and wonderful to her. Within a month she wrote to say she was in love.

Then nothing. Unable to reach Audrey at her rented room, she sent breezy news reports, casual questions. “How’s Johnny?” Then, “I’m worried.”

Finally, she tracked her down by calling the neighbors’ house. Even on that line filled with static she could tell something was wrong. Her voice, usually so lively, sounded wary and defensive: “I just can’t talk now. There’s a lot going on.”

Weeks passed. More silence. Or — almost worse — flat-sounding, one-line e-mail messages: “Will write later. Don’t worry.”

But she worried all the time now, more even than when she got the message from her son in Africa: “I’m over the worst of the malaria now.” He was writing to her, at least. From Audrey, nothing.

In early spring — six months since she had seen her last — she dreamed her daughter was running down a dirt road, with her long braid flying behind her and her face a mask of grief. The dream felt real.

That morning she knew what she would do, though she feared her daughter might never forgive her.

For years she had known the password to her e-mail account but never used it. Now — hands trembling on the keyboard — she typed it in.

Slowly, then, in messages she had written to friends, the story unfolded.

Audrey and Johnny had gone for their H.I.V. test that December. Two weeks later: A clean bill of health for Audrey. But the man her daughter believed to be the love of her life was H.I.V. positive. Back then, for an undocumented Haitian living in the Dominican Republic, the medical services necessary to keep him alive would be available only at a cost beyond his means.

It got worse. They had mostly been careful, but not 100 percent. And the test results Audrey got could not be viewed as accurate until three months had passed.

Feeling as though the room was on fire, Joyce scrolled through the messages her daughter had written over the weeks since then (with her own hopeful, plaintive notes scattered throughout: “Tell me what’s going on! I miss you, honey!”). There were letters to the American embassy inquiring about Johnny emigrating to the United States if he were married to an American citizen. Letters inquiring about the options for treatment for both of them back home. If she came home.

But for the moment, Audrey was still living with Johnny. Loving a man with whom she could not make love. Uncertain of her own health.

All she wanted, reading this news, was to jump on the first plane to the Dominican Republic, throw her arms around her daughter. Only to do so, Joyce would have to admit to having done this terrible thing.

cag ah

£ 15 for a Bottle of Wine

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 05:44:00 +0000

Last night Micci had a dream that OH, mum, and her went for a meal. In the dream the lass told them, sorry but we do not have all the drinks stated on the list, fine, they said.

They ordered their meal and then the lass tells them, all they have in drinks wise is a £15 bottle of wine!!! but its £15 PER PERSON, she starts shouting, her mum says she'll go down the road and get a carry out (mind they are supposed to be in a restaurant ).

Apparently she was mouthing off in her sleep, OH woke her up, and no she did not have drinks last night, although she did have cheese toasty before bed.

O, come on...

cag ah

Dream about Having Baby

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 14:00:00 +0000

Ami Angelowicz had this really weird dream the other night about having a baby. She’d already given birth and the baby was with a group of other babies who were being given up by their mothers for whatever reasons.

She didn’t recognize her at first and started playing with another one. Then she realized it didn’t look like her and went over to the baby that she was sure was hers. She had decided to give the baby up for adoption because she knew she was in no place to have a baby right now— She is 20 years old, in college, and single—but the more she played with it the more she didn’t want to let it go.

She started breast-feeding it at one point, but she tried to do it covertly because she was afraid that she wasn’t allowed to feed it seeing as how it wasn’t really hers anymore. She knew in her dream that she couldn’t keep the baby but she kept going to visit it and hoping that no one would adopt it.

A few months earlier she had a similar dream. She realized she was seven months pregnant and got scared that she hadn’t felt the baby kick yet. Then immediately it started moving around. Someone stole it from her when she was about to give birth and she was on this mission to get it back. She was on the run at the time because the people who had stolen it were also after her. She woke up before she found it. What gives in these dreams?”

cag ah

Fresh Sauerkraut

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 12:15:00 +0000

Kelley Smith had a dream the other night that she was at her Grandma's house. She was teaching her to make homemade sauerkraut. They were standing in her front yard of her little house. Underneath the branches of the huge shade tree, they shredded cabbage into big aluminum dish pans. In her dream she could feel a cool summertime breeze brush across her shoulder and she could hear the drone of a tractor engine in the distance. An occasional tweet of a bird joined in the symphony of dreamy sounds along with the slow crunch of the cabbage as her Grandma and she chopped away. It was so real it makes her cry just thinking about it. How she wish it hadn't been a dream. She miss her Grandma.

She remember one summer they were eating at "The Provision Company" in Southport, NC. This was before she developed a deadly seafood allergy. She was having a crab burger and her husband was having a fresh flounder sandwich. No words for the goodness. It was one of those food experiences where you loose yourself in the flavor. Your eyes may temporarily roll back in your head and you must be careful not to make inappropriate sounds of pleasure at the table. Her husband asked the owner, "What makes this taste so good." The answer was simple. "That fish was swimming 30 minutes ago." Freshness.

One of her favorite times to eat as a kid was on a garden day, like one of those days she remembered in her dream. On those days vegetables were being harvested, prepared, canned or frozen. And on those nights, supper was no less than amazing. She remember a table full of sliced tomatoes, corn on the cob, slaw, fried squash, cucumbers in vinegar, purple hull peas and a big pan of cornbread. And except for the cornbread, most of it had been growing in the garden only a few hours ago.

In today's society, people have pulled away from the freshness of food for the trade off of convenience. Most moms would rather buy dinner in a bag than take a little time cooking from scratch. They'd rather cook it like "Uncle Ben" or "Betty Crocker" than like Grandma. But in trade for the convenience, we've seen more and more chemicals being introduced into our bodies on a daily basis through our lazy diets. Food allergy diagnosis have risen dramatically. Cancer is almost epidemic. Hormonal systems are all out of whack. And most sad of all..... Kids have no idea what real food tastes like anymore.

You may not have time to make fresh sauerkraut like her Grandma or garden like her mother, but you can take the time to visit a local Farmer's Market or fruit stand, participate in a CSA or just pick up some fresh veggies at the grocery store. Perhaps it's time at your house to introduce your family to some freshness. Show them what real food tastes like.

Sure, we can purchase sauerkraut at the store. But it will always be missing a few key ingredients. One of her favorite parts of the cabbage is the core or the stalk. Most folks leave that out of the sauerkraut, but her Grandma knew she love to crunch on those. So when she was eating from a jar of sauerkraut and found a big ol' stalk, she knew it had been placed there just for her. The other ingredient missing from store bought anything? Love.

cag ah

Dreaming Ex

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 13:24:00 +0000

Please tell Miss Antelope that this has also happened to you. You know how sometimes when you dream at night you have several dreams? Well, She normally dream a lot but last night was out of the ordinary. Every dream she had was about her ex.

What's strange is they broke up 10 months ago and she really almost never bring him up. The worst part was that these dreams replayed several episodes of their break-up. They had a really bad break up, so since then she has tried to erase him from her memory. This morning she woke up feeling really disturbed because the dreams felt so real, they made her really uncomfortable.

It put her in such a bad mood for the entire day. She has also dated people since the break-up so she is confused with what her subconscious is trying to hint at.

Has this ever happened to you? What would you to prevent this from happening again? Why do you think it happened?

cag ah

Dr Zen Dreams About the Death of His Son

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 11:03:00 +0000

Dr Zen was wondering whether if you dream your children are dying, does a part of you want that? Isn’t that what dreams are: the manifestation of your unconscious onto the canvas of your sleeping mind?

Is it even meaningful at all? Sometimes he think that the hardest thing in this life is to distinguish signal from noise; or, in darker hours, he think that there is only noise, and the signal, if we feel there is one, is created from whole cloth.

Does it mean there is something wrong with him? What does that even mean? He feel entirely wrong. He often stop and think, he want to be someone else. He can’t distinguish the thought from thinking that he want to be him. A real him, as though such a thing even exists. Does it?

This is the question that he have asked himself often in the past few years, which have not been good for him. Is this him? Or is there, as he feel there is, a “real” him waiting to spring from beneath this beleaguered shell, like a butterfly from a cocoon of shit?

Do others feel like that, like they have a beautiful core that has accreted grit, dirt and shit and if only…

(He know that the cure for if only is to just do it. He is not stupid. He sometimes feel that he is acting stupidly because he has multitudes within him and different parts get to drive the car from time to time, and some of them don’t have a license. Or know how to steer. Or what the pedals do.)

Can’t you just wake up and be who you are? Isn’t that what everyone else does? Isn’t that what he is doing?

He is afraid that it is. He actually fear that this man that he see when he look in the mirror really is him, is the summation of what he could have been, what he put in and took out.

God, he need a drink. he need a god too. He do admire some of those who have one’s ability not to fear life. The teaching aide in his twins’ prep class is a hardcore Christian. He imagine her bouncing out of bed in the morning, delighted that there is a new day for her, that her god has blessed her with health, vitality, joy.

He think he understand envy. He does not want what others have. He does not has any lack of material things. But he envy those who are who they are and even if it meant cutting myself to ribbons and pasting those ribbons into a whole new pattern, he think he want that more than anything, but do not know how.

He does not want them to die. His son has been asking his mother about dying and she does not know what to tell him. He does not know either because it is the only thing he regret about his children: that he has condemned them to be and not to be. Perhaps they will find joy and mind not being less than he does.

He was thinking, he has to tell you to wrap this up, he was dreaming, he mean, but daydreaming, about the hummingbird he saw at Eungella. It was perfectly poised, motionless but for its flickering wings, on a warm afternoon, high above the log it used to perch on, motionless but for the ceaseless motion that created its lack of motion. And he doesn’t know what that means, but he hasn’t forgotten it, and so much else you just forget. It seems to mean something, but what? What if the reason you cannot tell the signal from the noise is simply that you do not understand the signal at all?

Travelling Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 10:14:00 +0000

Sidejumps often dream of travelling. Last night her dream was of travelling, but with tests along the way. Only some of you passed the test and could carry on with the journey.

So far I have passed, but the journey is not yet ended.

doesn't need much iterpretation that one her feel.

Pretty Intelligentprincess have many dreams of travelling too! She turn them into poems.

cag ah

Horse on Your Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 10:03:00 +0000

Sigmund Freud better known as the Father of modern psychology had some very interesting thoughts about dreams. In interpreting dreams Freud made a mark on the minds of many people.

At the point when he first studied the dreams meaning he called the mind at sleep the subconscious. The part of our mind that never really made it into the light of day. But the unconscious itself was not really discovered by Freud, but several other doctors were brought to light by William James in a study of Psychology.

What is my dreams meaning? Last night the dream contained a huge horse walking around in a field, and no matter how much attention was paid to the horse, it never came any closer. Ok so what does that dream really mean? You like horses, or if you look in a dream dictionary that you may feel you are not receiving the attention in life you deserve.

So now you know how Freud went about thinking of what dreams meant. Can this still be the case? Does the unconscious mind still repress feelings that we don't want to get out? And the way they are released is through dreams. It may well be, but do we know for sure?

Now sit back and think about dreams and how many different things can come up in dreams. How can you even begin to imagine what kind of repressed sexual feeling some things mean? Some subjects are very easy to imagine, but others not at all.

But do all dreams really deal with sex? Well some just may, but can a case be made for every dream? No not at all, however some will readily disagree. The horse dream in that case will take on a completely different meaning.

No matter how you look at it though, if you agree with Freud or someone else, it still is a very interesting subject matter. Talking about dreams and what you feel they may mean has always made up hours of fun conversation for many friends. Or lunchtime discussions.

In fact you might want to consider maybe Freud was right in some cases. Not about the sex and all dreams being about that. But in his creation of the Id, and the child inside of all of us. Maybe the dreams are ones desires and dreams coming out. As a dream those desires will not hurt anyone no matter what they are about, but the Id or child inside of us has a ton of fun.

That's all Henry Fong thought.
cag ah

An Anime Related Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 05:00:00 +0000

Last Friday, Matteas set out for a field trip with his class. They went canoeing for four days and they left all the civilization behind them. That was why he thought that he would be cut off from anime, figures, and moe world and he felt a little empty the first day. He really didn't have anything on him that would remind him of who he is and what his hobbies are. But these feelings faded away when rain clouds came and annoying raindrops began falling upon them. Since then he was busy being concerned about the weather. Day ended in a gloomy atmosphere, inside a cold tent on a riverbank.

He would have never imagined that he could have such a pleasant dream in such terrible conditions. Nevertheless, what he saw in his dream was something that he would really like to share with you. It's a shame that one's dreams cannot be visualized yet. He believe that many of you would enjoy that dream as he did.

Now you must be asking, "What did he see?" Okay, he will tell you now. In his dream, he was at a swimming pool and when he looked who is swimming there, his eyes were granted a spectacular sight. There were otaku's dream wives such as Sakagami Tomoyo, Hinagiku Katsura, Akiyama Mio, Fate Testarossa and others, but he can't remember all of them. However, they were small and young, about 5 years old. So cuuute! And then, suddenly, their mamas appeared. Mamas in bikinis, babies in school swimsuits. He felt as if he was in paradise, despite sleeping on a cold and hard surface.

When he think back about it, he find it pretty impressive that human brain can visualize even something that it hasn't seen. He mean, He've never seen any fanart of Hinagiku or Tomoyo as a baby, and still he was able to screen it in his dream. Isn't it great? Human brain really is something. He admire its powers more and more.

Well, that was the first night, and it doesn't end there. He saw an awesome dream even the second night. The conditions were a little bit better then. Though the surface was still hard as a rock, it was at least a little warmer. So much for the surroundings, now for the important part, that dream of mine. It wasn't as wonderful as the dream he saw the first night, but every figure collector would appreciate it.

He don't know where it took place. He think he didn't really recognize that room, but that's not important. He received an unexpected package and when he opened it, he found about 10 nendoroids inside. He can't remember all of them, but he recall there was Shana with black hair, and two yet to be made nendoroids, Mio and Yui. He wish it had been reality, and not just a dream. But he tell you, if Mio and Yui nendoroids turn out at least as good as those in his dream, we can look forward to something very nice.

The last night of the trip, he didn't see any dream, which is a little shame because he believe that he might have another great one. Those places where we slept seem to have some good effects on person's dreams, because his usual dreams are totally nonsensical. He never understand what's going on there and completely forget it in 10 seconds after waking up. The only thing that remains in his mind is that he know he didn't get what was going on in that dream at all.

Obama in My Dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 03:48:00 +0000

Here is the Anchoress recent dream:

In 8 years of Bill Clinton’s presidency, I dreamed about the man once, and it don’t remember feeling good or bad about it.

In 8 years of Bush’s presidency, I may have dreamed of him once. I think I did, but don’t really remember.

I know it is not unusual for people to dream of prominent folks in the news, particularly if they are being barraged with images, sound bites, headlines. For instance, back when he was (and not the AMA) was this administrations “evil dude/organization of the month”.

I was surprised to wake up this morning, ’round 7 AM, from a dream so full of the goodness of Obama, the love of Obama, the grace of Obama, that I was strongly repelled. If I were the time to consider mass-hypnosis, I’d have wondered about it.

In my dream, I was teaching a class in a local school, and Obama came to visit. I was excited with the rest of the children, and he was wonderful. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and got down into the small desks, and helped them with reading, and math and I thought, “he’s a born-teacher; he should be in the classroom, where he shines. I just love him like this.” The students were in awe of him – they looked upon him, with the same mesmerized gaze of adoration we see in some members of the press, as though he was a god, and that brought me down to earth. “You should not encourage that,” I said to Obama. “You should stick to teaching.” And he looked up at me, smiled charmingly, but suddenly, my feelings went cold as I sensed a flick of cold steel within him. That’s the only way I can describe it. He looked at me, understood that my newly-discovered admiration had fled, and turned back to the children, saying, “We’re going to learn a new song. We’re going to sing a new song, are you ready?”

I awoke and jotted down the dream quickly, then fell back to sleep. This time, we were at a community pool, splashing in the water; everyone having fun. But people kept coming up to me, rising from beneath the water, clearing hair from their eyes and saying, “Obama is over there; he wants you to come by.” Obama was there, in a far corner, surrounded by many, all having a great time. I kept refusing. Then there was a party – a huge gathering and once again it was all about Obama, everyone was having a great time. Lots of famous people. At one point Bono offered to sing a song he’d written especially for the occasion if only someone would volunteer to play piano for him, and I thought, “he’s richer than Midas, and there are musicians struggling for work; why didn’t he just hire one to bring with him. Why does someone need to volunteer?” Bono, unable to find that volunteer, did not sing, and I looked around, gathered my family and tried to leave. Obama was at the microphone announcing that he would be talking to us every Sunday for the next three weeks, from every television channel, every available media outlet, and he set his agenda. “The third Sunday, we will be releasing a new song, called “Sing a new song,” and you will all want to learn it; we will all be singing together.” Some in the crowd cheered, but many looked around uncomfortably, and clapped perfunctorily and briefly. “You are not clapping,” a man said to me. “No, I’m keeping my hands free, so I can throw my copy of 1984 at the television screen for the next few Sundays.” The man smiled a tiny smile, and turned away.

I went off and tried to find greeting cards to welcome back a friend who had gone, and was due to return shortly. But the cards were all vapid poems or garishly sentimental, and I awoke.

Why am I sharing these? Well, partly because I think they’re funny and strange, partly because I have never had the experience of dreaming so much of a president. I suspect the dreams are occurring because the man is never not on television. And as a news junkie, I can tell you with some certainty, even though I haven’t numbers before me, that neither President Clinton nor Bush ever ran through the headlines or the videotape like Obama does. Clinton got a lot of coverage during a “vacation from history,” and daily announcements of his great polling numbers. Bush got as much negative coverage as could be written, but little videotape. Toward the last two years of his presidency, if I remember correctly, he would 60-90 seconds on the nightly news shows, if that much.

Obama, on the other hand…I have never seen one man get this much sustained coverage, swooning coverage, near-worshiping, unquestioning, let-us-turn-our-communications-tools-over-to-assist-you-in-your-legislative-goals coverage. And he doesn’t like it if anyone doesn’t swoon. Obama is literally ever-present. Like our sins he is “ever before our eyes,” wherever we turn.

So, I suppose that’s why I am dreaming strange dreams. I may try to take Freud’s advice and identify myself as “everything in” the dreams. I am the water; I am the greeting cards; I am the president; I am the crowd. I am…Bono?

Hmmmm…maybe I’ll take the Jungian track, instead.

And no, I don’t need 100 emails scolding me for calling the president “sin.” I’m not. I’m just having fun and playing on Psalm 51, there, but take it as you like it; people believe what they want to believe.

Awful Dreams: Missing Clothes

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 00:52:00 +0000

For the past two nights (or mornings, as my dreams happen when I am nearing the time I should wake up), I've been having awful dreams. First was I was in a rundown beach resort where the cottages have three walls only of patches of plywood. The four side of the supposed cottage had only cheesecloth hooked on both end serving as cover. It was the most pathetic outing I've ever been into but the funniest thing is that I actually agreed to stay there.

In my dream I was with my SFC friends who went with me to Bohol. And we were really having fun piling ourselves on top of one another to sleep on that shabby roofless cottage. We later on went to the beach to swim but when we got back, some of our clothes were already missing. I immediately checked my bag to see if my waller and cellphones were still there and i did find it there. But my mistake was I did not check it closer so I was shocked to find my wallet empty and my cellphone case empty as well! I was screaming out of frustration thinking of all the money they siphoned off me.

In my second dream, I was in a salon having my hair done. The problem was the gay cutter was too lazy and sloppy with his work, he left my hair uneven on one side. In my dream, I was again angry, screaming or more like whinning, "What would I do with this??" while holding the ends of my hair in clenched fists. It seemed funny now but I know I was in absolute panic in my dream. I even searched for a customer service counter where I could complain the lousy hair dresser and the customer service people were all looking at me sympathetically and agreeing, "oh yes, it does look bad..."

I don't know what I could get out of those dreams. They seem silly to me now...

cag ah

Crash Sight

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 14:49:00 +0000

Rob Lenihan wrote a scary dream about his special friend:

“Love is an attempt to change a piece of a dream-world into reality.”
--Henry David Thoreau

What does it mean when someone dies in a dream? It is some subconscious message that you want them to die? Or is death in a dream a stand-in for change? I had these questions this week when I dreamed about a former crush of mine whom I had not seen or spoken with in seven years.

This woman--we’ll call Mary Jane--never returned my affection, but she was always ready to laugh at my jokes and call me when she needed someone to talk to. I hinted at, but never really told her of my feelings for fear of losing whatever relationship we had, but I kept hoping and hoping that I’d win her over. Brace yourself for a shock, but my hoping didn’t do me any good.

For when it came to love, sex and marriage, Mary Jane, like so many woman in my life, made sure to get that from somebody else. The last time I heard from her was in 2002, when she called me to whine about her boyfriend dumping her.

That was very stressful time of my life. September 11 was still a fresh wound at this time and it was a bad memory for me, since I was standing across the street when the planes hit.

My mother was very ill then and she would eventually die in July of ’02. So I was kind of thrilled to hear from Mary Jane, praying like some desperate little puppy that she would finally see me for the prize catch that I am.

During our phone conversation, I told her that I had always been crazy about her, and she was so surprised, no, really? Why, she had no idea…a total mystery to her…a shocking revelation…ah, screw you, sweetheart.

We talked about getting together soon, but I never heard from her again. I found out that boyfriend had taken her back and they were getting married.

So Mary Jane managed to call in the period between the two worst events of my life—9/11 and my mother’s death—and talk about herself.
I wrote off Mary Jane and for the most part, I kept her out of my life. I did the occasional Google search for her name, but even that ran eventually ran its course like a virus.

But then Mary Jane made a surprise return to my life on Thursday, in both reality and fantasy.

I learned that she had been laid off from her job at New England newspaper-- along with about 100 other people in yet another sign of this industry’s demise.

When I got the news, perhaps—just perhaps--I felt the briefest, tiniest surge of schadenfreude about her situation before I began to shudder at the thought of anyone being out of work right now.

The job situation is so dismal these days the employment numbers read more like a casualty list from the front. Today it’s you, tomorrow it’s you, and no one is above the slaughter.

And then that night I dreamed about Mary Jane. Specifically, I dreamed she had been killed while flying some strange one-man aircraft.

In the dream I was reading a newspaper account of the accident, which said Mary Jane was adjusting a video camera to aim at herself—some kind a flight recorder I suppose—when the plane suddenly dipped to the left and smashed to the ground.

Hard Landing

I “saw” the wreckage, but nothing else, thank God. It was just a small pile of smoldering debris; it was hard to believe anyone could fly in that thing.

And then I was walking on some country road, which I was believe was close to the crash site, and I started crying.

I’m sorry I was so angry, I thought. I’ll see you soon, Mary Jane. And maybe you’ll love me in the afterlife.

I woke up shuddering, convinced for a second that Mary Jane was actually deceased. It took a few moments before I realized that she was okay, but I was still shaken by this nightmare. I had actually killed somebody in my mind.

I'm terrified of flying and this fear, combined with the recent news of plane crashes, plus an NBC special I watched about a Concorde crash, probably all combined to create the deadly airplane vision in my mind.

I’ve been going through some strange times recently regarding some of my ex-girlfriends. I learned that one woman I had treated terribly had become a lesbian; and another one whom I despised for going out of her way to humiliate me was happily married with a child.

In my little world, this last beast does not deserve to be happy, but should rightly be rotting in some Eastern European dungeon for crimes against my masculinity. Really have to lay off Google...

But this dream about Mary Jane, that was the strangest incident of all—though she was never my girlfriend, of course.

It’s interesting to note the presence of the video camera as the cause of death, which harks back to my real-life experience with Mary Jane being self-centered and uncaring.

So was I subconsciously hoping Mary Jane would die because she rejected me? I was angry with her, but, hell, that’s pretty much passed.

The shrinks say that we appear as every one and everything in our dreams, so in addition to being the mourner, I’m also the victim, the demolished plane, and even the strange lady I saw walking by me just before I woke up. (What the hell was with her, anyway, and why did she do a double take when I walked by?)

Perhaps the “death” was as a substitute image for Mary Jane losing her job because it can be such a traumatic event. And my guilt was…my guilt.

I’d like to think that the death was meant to symbolize the demise of any lingering hostility I felt toward Mary Jane, that it’s high time to bury my anger and move the hell on.

I like that theory the best, so I’m going to go with that one. I’ll put my anger aside, focus on the present, and keep one eye on the sky.

End of the world?

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 14:36:00 +0000

Do dreams about end of the world mean anything? On the night of February 22, 2009 I had yet another "end of the world" dream, that's just my term for them. Anyhow recently over the past year and half or so I've had three Armageddon/revelation/end of the world dreams. I usually wake up abruptly and realize that I have only slept for one hour. Almost all of these dreams involve comets hitting the earth. This fourth dream was a lot more realistic than my other ones because the setting took place within and around my house. The images are still very fresh in my mind.

It starts out with me standing in the driveway in front of my house, my mom and sister in the garage, when I notice that a storm is heading towards us, I also notice that there's this really big and fluffy cloud off to the right close by and it stood out because it was white contrasting sharply with the darkening sky. As I'm looking at the cloud I see a white lion along with another thinner figure standing next to it, they were both sort of translucent yet luminescent at the same time, kind of glimmering. I presumed that it was Jesus because of the whole "lion and the lamb" thing and because his face was bright and I couldn't quite make out the features but I just knew it was supposed to be him. He then raised one arm up and pointed directly at me and I'm not sure if he said anything or if I just heard it in my head but he said, "I love you, little one" and I thought wow that was really weird, especially because he pointed directly at me.

Then I glanced over and I could see behind my house in the somewhat close distance a large black/gray cloud sorta looked like it could be really thick smoke too--and it rose very high into the sky and there were flashes of lightning. I told my mom and sister to get inside because of the huge storm. And when I got inside the lights flickered as if the power were going to go out at any moment, so I started trying to get some flashlights. Then I happened to look out the window and saw that the skies were darkening as the cloud grew larger and closer. I looked over to the left and there was a man in the dark cloud--he really looked like a man that was just larger and in the clouds. He had a knife thing in his hand and his face was in a shadow so I couldn't see who it was or make out any features.

Anyways I watched him strike the cloud in a downward stabbing motion with the knife and each time he did, a reddish-orange streak would shoot up into the sky and disappear... Sorta like when you watch fireworks. This happened several times and then I watched as one of the streaks went into the air but it didn't disappear instead it seem to arc in the sky and shoot in my direction and I could see that it was a flaming comet and I ran downstairs and yelling about getting under cover and that the things I had been dreaming about were coming true. I watched horrified as comets hit the yards of my neighbors' house, some streaking narrowly past ours and I was scared that one was going to crash into our house, right before I woke up I realized that none of the comets were hitting our house, they all seemed to be avoiding our house.

One of the significant things that I noticed about my dream was the presence of only my mom, my sister, and me. My older brother and my dad were missing from the equation. My brother and my dad are both not Christians and I found the fact that they weren't in my dream may mean something but I'm unsure. Anyways these dreams always scare me slightly upon awakening and I wonder if the frequency and recurring theme of these dreams is some sort of message or just an unusual coincidence.

Angelina Jolie in my dream

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 16:44:00 +0000

This time I want to congratulate Don Willmott, a lucky guy whom Angelina Jolie came on his dream:

Last night I treated myself to a DVD double feature of Wanted and Changeling. Then I went to sleep, and, as luck would have it, Angelina Jolie showed up in my dream. We were attending an Oscars party together, sitting at a table and making snarky comments about all the sycophants who were hanging around her. Then, to shake things up a little, she pulled a silver pistol out of her purse and put it on the table in front of her just to see how people would react. Genius!

Seeing Wanted reminded me of Angelina in her warrior mode of Tomb Raider and Mr. and Mrs. Smith, while Changeling reminded me of her victim mode of A Mighty Heart and The Good Shepherd. She really can do it all. Though I am fairly certain that she will lose out on Oscar night to Kate Winslet, I feel that she deserves an Academy Award simply for being what Hollywood really needs right now: a real honest-to-God movie star. Forget all the celebrity baggage and attempts to decode what Angelina really means. Tom Junod pretty much ruined that exercise for everyone with his ridiculously epic thumbsucker in Esquire a couple of years back.

Just look at what’s on the screen. Meanwhile, Angie, you can visit me in my dreams anytime. I’m sure we’ll have a blast.

The Anatomy of a Breakup

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 14:21:00 +0000

Heidi talk about her dream last night:

I had a dream last night about a boy I haven’t thought about in a long time. I don’t know why I dream about past – dare I say on the sake of cheesiness - “lovers” but sometimes, usually drunkenly, I do.

Dreams, as I have learned in a couple of psychology courses over the years, are often our subconscious thoughts. I would say it’s our subconscious waging war with reality but that might be taking it a little too far. Either way, there are a number of theories about why we dream what we do and what they mean but I’m not getting into that. This kid was apparently creeping around in my subconscious for whatever reason last night.

I met him about a month into my freshman year of college. Meeting was weird - we began speaking over the all famous livejournal but consequently, were in a class together my freshman year. He was a year ahead of me, and I was…well…naive.

I call myself naive often because often times, I can be. We all are once in a while. But in my early days of college? I was…wicked niave. Yes, I dropped the wicked bomb.

In my dream, which I now vaguely remember, we were swimming somewhere, and he kept telling me how he always cared about me and how he was sorry for hurting me. I don’t remember much of the details but it struck a cord with me thus remembering it upon waking up, which I don’t usually do.

You see, I talk a lot about The Ex being the significant boy of my college experience. My first love if you will. I had a few “loves” in the way young love is, but The Ex bit me to the core, he got me in ways that up until Fiance, no one had. Of course that’s not always a good thing - as I’ve said before, the Ex and I had an arsenal on one another. An arsenal that can only be built over years of long talks, an arsenal that was based on a friendship that took a couple years to build that turned into attraction (that had been there from day 1) turned into love. An arsenal that he blew up. That I couldn’t forgive him for blowing up…I couldn’t. I tried…God did I try but I couldn’t trust him in the same way that I had up until that icy December night. *sigh*

But this guy…was the FIRST. I thought the world of him, so when, a month and a half later, after a whirlwind of a college romance, he told me, it was better - for my sake - if we cooled off. I needed to be more social, he told me. In retrospect, despite the tears, the crying, the heartbreak….he was right. My college experience probably wouldn’t have been what it was had he not had the foresight to see that I was wayyy too attached and well…wasn’t making my own friends.

Of course the ending wasn’t that easy. There was longing on my behalf, heartbreak that bit me to the core, loneliness, nights where he said he’d call and didn’t. Nights where he said he’s stop by and didn’t. It wasn’t as easy as “you need to be more social” no no, my eighteen year old self didn’t see it that way. My eighteen year old self was heartbroken and at eighteen in a new place with no one that you’ve really connected with? It’s grueling.

Of course, I do need to thank him for that, as it was during that period that I met my L. L lived upstairs from me, we met when we were doing laundry on a rainy day. That girl was my rock freshman year, we stayed up far too many talking about life and love and our experiences, and ordering far too much late night Dominoes. She is by far, even now despite the fact that our contact is more about phone tag and short emails, still one of the most genuine people I know.

That boy and I stayed friends. Kind of. We had the occasional run in that resulted in a few late night run-ins, and of course a mid day date after one boy once told me “you’re not good enough for me.” There were stolen kisses a couple years later, stolen glances during a karaoke night…it was a whirlwind through my first three years but sometime after all that, I stopped needing him to rescue me. I stopped needing anyone to rescue me.

He moved on of course, as did I. No more stolen kisses or glances, or any of that. I don’t know when we lost touch, but probably after an autumn night at karaoke….a few months later he had a girlfriend and that was it. We were cordial of course, but that’s all I ever really want with any of my ex’s.

But he taught me about myself. I guess that’s all that matter in regards to heartbreak and relationships isn’t it - learning about yourself and growing from the pain in the end.

I’ve learned something from all the boys/men I’ve dated - about myself, tolerance for insults, tolerance for controlling boys, learning who I have chemistry with, how to know what chemistry is (ah-hem The Goalie….) and then of course, when to shut it down. When to walk away. When the hurt, the pain, the resentment is too much and love just isn’t enough to save it (The Ex). Those are the hardest ones. Because it’s not that you don’t love them, because you do, but too much happens - fighting, breaking up, getting back together again thinking you can make it work….when in reality? Everything happens for a reason.

I wonder what that First Guy is up to these days. I hope he’s happy, I hope if he’s not that he finds happiness. He deserves it. He’s smart, ambitious (which I always find attractive), among other things. Sometimes, as I have learned, just because someone’s not right for you? Doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. I feel that in the heat of emotions, we often lose sight of that.

Dreams and the Unconscious Mind

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 06:13:00 +0000

What is Julie Redstone thought about dream?:

The activity of the unconscious mind goes on all of the time whether we are aware of it or not. This activity includes many layers of perception that have to do with connecting the past and the present, the present and the future, and with integrating the meaning of events, emotions, and circumstances into our psychic structure and energy body.

Historically, what has been referred to as the 'unconscious mind' related primarily to repressed or suppressed

emotions or attitudes that the watchful ego could not allow into everyday awareness. However, this is a limited perception of this sphere of activity, for in addition to suppression, the function of the unconscious mind is one of integration, understanding, and healing, each of which can result in new experiences for the psyche as well as old.

Many of these new experiences occur during the dream state. The unconscious mind includes thoughts and emotions that have not crossed over into daytime awareness, but it also includes perceptions and intuitions that have been barely noticed that are not yet held as valid by waking consciousness. Such perceptions run the gamut from subtle observations of things having to do with others that the waking self may not register – things such as the meaning of the body language that others display, the energetic and emotional effect of things people say, the interpretation of hidden motivations that one may witness - to intuitions that partake of a different reality altogether whose questioned validity has placed them in the realm of the unconscious rather than in the realm of everyday awareness.

In this category are:
- perceptions of energies of different kinds,
- messages from another aspect of the self,
- guidance from beings from other realms,
- altered perceptions of reality that pierce through the outer layer of separation between objects and people, and
- a sense of the holy or sacred that may not yet be available to waking experience.

Also included in this category are 'bleed-throughs' or remembrances from other lifetimes and premonitions of things yet to come. While many of these aspects of the unconscious mind remain hidden from daytime knowing, during sleep they are given greater permission to emerge since at this time the ego is less vigilant.

Then, such things as guarded emotions or emotions that seem much stronger than what we are actually aware of feeling, appear, as do ideas and perceptions that may not have been given attention during the day.

Furthermore, because of the greater relaxation of mental control during sleep, new experiences can occur that further the growth of the self and that create linkages with the soul and higher self. These experiences are not precisely dreams. Rather, they are events of a spiritual nature which open the doors to a multidimensional reality in which both self and outer reality can be perceived in a different way.

For example, there may be an experience that seems quite real of being in a foreign or unfamiliar environment and of meeting someone and receiving a message of instruction. Though the landscape of such an environment may be ordinary, the message that is received may not be. This can be an example of a translation of an other-dimensional experience of receiving guidance into the physical realm in a way that permits the embodied self to receive it. The meaning of the message remains, placed in a context that waking consciousness can hold and relate to. Such experiences of other-dimensional realities are more common today than previously, produced by the enhancement of light and the increased closeness of dimensions of a higher vibration to the one of physical reality.

In the end, the unconscious mind may be viewed as a river whose flow is connected to both the emotions that are felt during daily experience, and to the movement of learning that is part of the orchestration of the soul-level of our being. From this level, the soul continually seeks to bring its wisdom, knowledge, and love into the embodied state of our life. The movement toward growth initiated from the soul-level can result in dreams that are teaching tools as well as new experiences. When treated with respect and with an openness to learn from them that befits their sacred origin, we accelerate the emotional and spiritual growth that is central to our reason for being. We also move past more limited concepts of personal identity that may have been acquired in the past, into an open-ended, ever-expanding view of who we are and a greater awareness of the flow of life .

cag ah

I Love You

noreply@blogger.com (edi djuhaedi) — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 06:03:00 +0000

mmm...what a sweet dream hara reita's had:

Today I'm here again to post. I didn't want to forget this lyric that I was thinking while I was trying to sleep last night.

So I'll just share this with you all.

Today I had the most beautiful dream I've ever had in my entire life x3 I dreamt that... the guy that... YOU KNOW... said in my ear "I love you".

I know it's only a dream, but he once said in real "I adore you" x3 So I thought of him when I wrote this. And I also thought about the song "Lonely Day" by System of a Down, because it was the first song he ever played to me.

My pilow is full of water
Everytime I see it
All of my tears
Appear
All of my fears
Disappear...

There is no one here...
Just me
I'm in no where
Just wanted you to be here

Take me to the other side
Let us slide
In the world
Let us break it
In two sides

I'll set down my gun
once I see peace
In my own land...
But now
The world is just a piece
Of nothing
Just like me...
Would you take me
To a highland?

There is no one here...
Just me
I'm in no where
Just wanted you to be here

Take me to the other side
Let us slide
In the world
Let us break it
In two sides

cag ah