Several times this year, I’ve come to the realization that the dream world is connected, at least in one’s own personal dimension, that some scholars would call The Long Dream; this morning felt like a revisit to several themes that keep going unresolved in a previous episodes.

    The drop-in starts off in an apartment, I remembered a recent dream that had me leaving through the very same building I have to look for the dream I am thinking of, written down somewhere which is an approximation of one I used to live in for several years in Manhattan on the upper West Side. Entering the building again, my mind is pulling imagery from a former workplace, the Comfort Inn near John Wayne Airport, back in 1986.

    The side door where I used to enter after having breakfast is how I get in, walking up the stairs to the apartment, and several people are interacting with me, these might be the memories of my coworkers inside one of the rooms as I collected trash and linens from the Maids, I was the Houseman (1986, Sorry for using outdated terms) for the hotel. 

    The location in the dream was somehow combined, I equated it with the abandoned looking building with the dream of Rosario Dawson She may have been M.A.R.T.H.A. or Tricky in the early stages before we unceremoniously split and the hotel and an apartment we lived in on the upper West side of Manhattan. These buildings are part of the ever-evolving Metroplex of locations and destinations in my mind. Sometimes the room becomes my old apartment and other places I’ve lived or visited. 

    When I exited the building I noticed the wire cage balconies encircling the building. Above, the sky was a nice muted blue and there was a harbor alongside with a river walk This is another leftover from several of my earlier dreams a helicopter was flying over the river to towards the building, it was towing a yellow rescue raft aloft at the end of a long cable. Wind started to pick up, I felt the unmistakable rush of air that comes with my tornado dreams.

This wasn’t going to end well.

    My familiarity with the location sparked another angle that reminded me of the rooftop apartment the security guard lived in from yet another dream. The copter was a big military style rescue vehicle with the open sides, painted in drab green. All around the gale force winds were wreaking havoc, pushing the whirly-bird around the opposite side of the building as it tried to avoid collision. The pilot must have been straining with the controls as the pitch of the craft went from almost vertical on it side and down. The copter caught an updraft and pulled straight up and over the roof too close, nearly clipping the edge before disappearing over the side and I lost sight of it. From my vantage point on the ground I couldn’t see but knew the yellow raft would catch onto one of the balconies. 

We heard the zip and clatter of the cable catching the boat between floors, the whine of the helicopter engine increased as it was trying to climb. With one last effort the pilot tried pulling away from the building but a gust of wind pushed it over the top of the roof again. A split second silence and then the sound of a crash with smoke billowing off the top of the building. I had to see what happened, the strongest urge to help any survivors came over me.

    Running back up the stairs all of those flights would just slow me down. 

I took flight!

 From somewhere inside I just knew I would begin floating, the wind was terrible, holding me stationary as I tried forcing myself against it, there had to be another way. Trying to gain control, I was in a struggle against the wind – just like the helicopter. There was only one choice left for me. 

Summoning all of my inner power and ability I let go of being physical and willed myself upward, the sensation was like pushing your hands against a soft chair to extract yourself. I moved like a superhero upward. Usually this much stress and effort inside a dream would eventually wake me up. Not this time. I shot up the thirty or so floors to the roof and saw the downed helicopter on its side, badly mangled with fluids leaking out of the side. The passengers had pulled themselves out and were huddled under a metal staircase to a higher level of the roof area, taking stock of their wounds. I landed near them, aware that there might be an explosion soon if we didn’t hurry out of there. Calling out to the group was almost futile, they were in shock, hardly responding to me, I crept up under the stairs and tried reassuring them that there won’t be an explosion Sometimes the thought inside the dream would cause the event to happen, as if it were a prediction. This time there was no explosion when I mentioned it.

    The man and woman came to, snapping out of their hysterics, their teen daughter was still convulsing in fear and I spoke calmly to her using some sort of mental power to drown out the sounds of sirens, screams from below and the wind so she could hear my voice “Calm down now, there won’t be an explosion – we’re putting water on the crash now…” Mentally I had pulled the hose from the stairwell and pointed it on the helicopter, it hovered over the wreck like a cobra swaying side to side as the water gushed out wetting the entire area. I had to repeat myself to the girl – pushing deeper into her mind to unlatch her from the fear “There’s no more danger, we’re putting water on the wreck – everything is fine now.” This finally broke the shock. I led her down to the waiting arms of her parents and they entered the stairwell going down…

After accomplishing this many feats, I was ready to wake up and slowly the dream faded out almost entirely. It took me a few minutes to remember it all.

I was able to change the conditions of fate, as it were. Inside the dream there usually is almost a psychic-like knowledge of what’s about to come, The other day I tried to help the man rescue his daughter but the bridge was swarming with attackers and the dream ended without closure. This dream might have been in response to that disappointment, using my power and stepping outside of the normal dream conditions that seem to follow a television script. 

Now I know what becoming astral or being lucid inside the dream entails, sheer force of will. 

This time… I saved the girl.  




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Gabe Miranda lives a stones throw from uptown Charlotte, enjoys Star gazing and creating chaos on Twitter. Currently working on editing diary posts to self publish his first book.