Morning of November 23, 2013. Saturday.

This is one of those “ordinary” dreams for the most part, but I can remember all of the more specific details. It mostly takes place at the address we lived at in Wavell Heights (a Brisbane suburb). I am somehow not aware that the house, with its large front and back yard, has been a place where we lived.

Within the house is a “river”. The house is cluttered with a lot of boxes and smaller furniture throughout all of the rooms, but there is water everywhere that covers much of it, so it is like a river within the house and it also seems like another area at times. The water is nearly shoulder-high for me. I spend some time trying to get through one area from the living room to the kitchen and sometimes fall lower to nearly fully under the water and then have to pull my way back up, using boxes or furniture to stabilize my position. An older man on a raft drifts by seemingly annoyed by my presence.

Later, I am outside near a larger fictional garage and my wife has entered my dream. It seems the whole area is otherwise inhabited by people who are like a cross between pilgrims and hillbillies - with a sort of colonial mentality, and as such are obviously very limited in perspective regarding potential communication and are certainly xenophobes of the worst kind. A man that reminds me a lot of VH, a conspiracy theorist on YouTube (although he often seems like a fabricated fictional persona) who somehow has a huge fan base (and in real life looks nearly forty years older than he actually claims to be) is near the garage. Apparently I had been given some sort of task to give him something from inside the “river/house” but had forgotten what it was.

“What does an injun and a gypsy hope to find here?” he shouts, waving his arms around randomly. He has a long, white, scraggly beard and reminds me somewhat of the personas from “Bugs Bunny: Hillbilly Hare” (which I always found fascinating, vocally - with regards to the way the two men spoke). There is a large table where there are a few old, possibly one-of-a-kind books and a few other people. One of them looks somewhat friendly for the most part. Another man looks at me and tells me to be careful with the “one-of-a-kind” books and I stare him down rudely telling him that I am “one-of-a-kind” (as is everyone, really). However, it also seems that similar “one-of-a-kind” books are underwater back in the house, so they must not care all that much.

Time passes and I then seem to be my wife, although my voice still clearly has my own actual speaking nuances for the most part, but no one else notices. I am looking through a few books on family names. There apparently is an ancestor on my wife’s mother’s side named either Mark Davids or David Marks, but it seems very unlikely in my dream (in real life, it is “Marks” - but which is highly anglicized from the original name). The book I am looking through as my wife and while speaking to a few other people at the table has both names close together. One (I do not remember which, but it is the next one down near the middle of the page) is featured in a comic-strip-like section (with real photographs) as a Czechoslovakian pirate chasing another man. The other man ends up neck-high in a river near mossy rocks. There actually is a “Czech Pirate Party” completely unrelated to most of what is in the fictional dream book, though - "Pirate Parties were established in many European countries as a protest against the restriction of the civil rights by lobby groups." There almost seems to be a possible connection somehow. It is possibly based on the news “Hundreds of rampaging neo-Nazis attempt pogrom against Romani people in Ostrava” of this year (through August).

I am then reading (still as my wife) information on my wife’s father’s people and the apparent genocide that is still an issue in present times (in real life, he had escaped to Australia as a younger man). There is some sort of connection to the word “pogrom” and the name “Ostrava” and other terms, some seemingly fictional, the main seemingly fictional word being “Sym” which supposedly means a pogrom against the “gypsies” (Romani). It could, however, be a play on “Sim” (not sure of the connection, though). The word “Sym” seems to be "Sxm" at times. This was a minor precognitive facet (as is usually the case with any layered dream) in that my best friend from childhood had posted “Sxm” on Facebook right after I started on this entry - not heard it before - and his own new shortened form of the name of a radio station he had never posted about before to my knowledge.

I am soon aware (still being my wife at that point) that my youngest son is there. I open another larger book and in the back, between the back cover and the last page, is a large praying mantis that is preserved in the book much like a leaf, its wings spread out wide and nearly the size of the page itself. However, its wings seem somewhat semi-circular. It actually floats in the air for a short time before drifting down back onto the page, almost as if from some sort of implied subtle life-force that remains within, perhaps in a type of suspended animation. This is the most vivid part of my dream - the point at which “ordinary” dream clarity is almost fully established. My son watches with mild interest but does not speak. I am thinking, as my wife, that I should probably go and “find my husband”…

UPDATE: I have changed this entry’s status to “precognitive” even though the other dream of the other poster has a much older date (as well as because of the other precognitive facets) - though it was originally posted right after mine (I also am putting in the “dream journal synchronicity” tag): http://www.dreamjournal.net/journal/index.cfm?username=ashzepplin&dream_id=189743