Home | IMDB entry | Bio | Photos | Demo Reel | On-set Reports | Videos | Event Calendar | Contact | Health Products | Links | Store | Blog | Site Map

Share |
Dream Journal 2014 | Dream Journal 2013 | Dream Journal 2012 | Dream Journal 2011
Dream Journal 2010 | Dream Journal 2009 | Dream Journal 2008 | Dream Journal 2007
Back to Paranormal Page Index | Site Map
Geoffrey Gould
Dream Journal 2007

Thursday, December 20, 2007 5:19am Dogs and Monsters
I am working next door to a massive factory that contains numerous hard-hatted workers and massive heavy-moving equipment. I work next door in a small garage-type place in which fantasy characters are catagorized and filed. Occasionally through the many shelves that would appear to have spare auto parts, a man comes by with some large friendly dogs. At one point after going outside I find myself "lost:" next door instead of my own place. Large equiment shifts, lifts and moves around huge fork-lift like machines. As I hastiy walk through to get back to my place, one machine accidently pins me down by the back of my legs. I am released and using a large dolly (old wooden flat square with caster wheels beneath), I make my way next door, having to work my way via slightly sandy terrand which the dolly wheels resist. The man with the dogs is outside, and one of the dogs happily sniffs me. The man's herd of goats are nearby and suddenly the friendly dog gets very snarly. at me. Very uncharacteristic, I ask the guy about his dog snarling and quite threatening to bite my arm. The man is surprised at the dog's behaviour, and calls over the dog. I see the small goats wandering about and I posit perhaps the dog was being protective, even though the goats had only just begun to arrive. The man feels this is a likely possibility, Back at my garage-type work place there is some fantasy character, a large creature similar to a Frankenstein monster but not quite, as he is green, bulbous, and can open the top of his head and pokes around at his own brain, apparently to eliminate the part of the brain that feels pains. The creature is "guarding" what would seem to be a classic story-book Grandmother's house, hostage those inside. Brief Dream Detatchment allows me to see a skylight like opening on the roof through which the grandmother, wolf, and a little boy (!) can escape. The grey-faced wolf moves forward between the two of them as thoughto try to egt out first. The grandmother slaps the wolf's face and exclaims to the boy to "Kill him! Kill him now!" Realizing they should escape their captor first, she apologizes saying, "I'm sorry, got a bit carried aware there..." From outside the garage window I see another file clerk who apparently knew such an event would happen. He comes in with a large handfull of receipts and lets them fly at the large green monster. It flees but the paperwork catches up and surrounds it like a whirlwind. While I have a bit of Dream Memory on this, it isn't quite so clear on this, and I literally have to admit I've never quite made out how those receipt things are supposed to work (at filing [and or controlling] the characters).

Tuesday, December 18, 2007 5:50am Lowered profit margin
Out in a desert in some seedy dive "restaurant" or such, I am finishing up some sort of wager or contest with an Ali Larter lookalike Dream Character. Standing next to the bar, she splits up between us a large amount of cash. I take my half (about three or four hundred dollars), which includes a strange one hundred dollar bill with art work similar to my friend Ted Slampyak (who does detailed artwork for comics such as Jazz Age Chronicles, et al). I go to pocket the money when sitting nearby a Sam Elliott lookalike Dream Character says, "No hold on there; you still owe me for three hour's driving." Dream Memory has me recall that throughout the Nevada desert he drove me about in a pick-up truck, somehow through which I was able to acquire the amount of money I'd brought to the table. "Two and a quarter," he adds. I am flabbergasted he wants two hundred and twenty-five bucks for what driving he did, but I begrudgingly count it out and growlingly give it to him. He looks at the strange hundred dollar bill with interest, but pockets it as well.
Later: For some project I am mixing some sort of light brown paint (just short of golden), in a medium size paint can, but can stir it only with the can's lid, having no stirrer. I can only get a bit of the lid to stir the surface as it won't reach too far beyond the can's opening. From my right, a very small cow wanders in, about the size of a dog. It is covered in a thick goo, the same colour completely coated. Its entire body surface covered, it all but casually walks into a tree. I am not amused someone has covered the cow's ability to see, but the animal doesn't really seem to mind. I have to deliver this can of paint somewhere, and I accept an offered ride. The driver however, zooms about the back surface streets like a maniac, despite my protestations it's not an emergency.

Monday, December 17, 2007 6:02am UFOs and shotgun blasts
After much Dream Fade, I am in a building with a man I know I must kill in order for me to survive. I also know he can rengerate almost instantly, so after shooting him (and thereby startling him), I fire again, this time with a shotgun, leaving a massive round hole straight through his face and head and allowing the wall several feet behind him to be visible through his face. He staggers, the hole having taken out his face from his eyes down through his upper teeth. For some reason I lunge to the side and hit the deck, hearing his gurgling attempts to vocalize the word No, rather lengthily, in defiance of his obvious imminent immediate demise. I hear his body finally drop and slam to the floor. Somehow I know his body is now dissolving, and I wait for the silence. I then go to the body to find all has dissolved but bits his hands and feet, still encased in partial shoes. I take a black Hefty type bag to gather up the few pieces. At one point two droplets of gore hit the hardwood floor. I'll have to clean that up pretty much, I think as I finish the grisly task. Out in the parking lot with my friend William, I get ready to get into the cramped back deck of a hatchback car in which I can take a shower. "What is that?" William asks aloud, looking up. I look up to the blue sky, some stretches of white clouds here and there, and I see a fast moving craft, clearly very high up, moving far faster than any airplane at the same altitude. What first draws my attention to it are two bright white lights at the front, the two lights extenting straight forward, like cohesive high beams in light fog. But there is no fog, and it is traveling through none of the clouds. Soundless, I cannot make out too many details due to its speed, and while behind it seems to have a strange curly-cloud like vapour trail, it is not being left; the white, thick "vapour trail" is keeping up with it as though attached, running several lengths long behind the fast-moving craft as it zooms by overhead, soon lost from sight by the nearby buildings. "What was that?" I manage to reply finally to William. Neither of us know. I get into the hatchback and William closes the door. My clothes are off in a jiffy and the shower head (at the hatchback hinge) begins to release warm water. I suddenly realize my clothes are on the deck, and I hastily move my pants, then my jacket to the back seat beyond the reach of the water.

Thursday, December 13, 2007 5:45am Boundry walls and missed appointments

Lost my files again: the new 2gig drive managed to corrupt my files before I could save them. I've also had very few dreams to document of late, though the two or three I'd not had the time to upload have been lost.

I am inside some sort of a dojo gymnasium, a small section of which contains a personal living area of someone, such as a bed, carpeting, and a small live lamb about six inches long and friendly as a puppy. I suddenly discern it is Thursday and some Dream Memory tells me that I have (and thereby am missing) a commercial audition. I go to call my voice-mail to confirm the information, but (using my former cell phone), I am unable to get through properly. I go outside to wait for a bus I know should be by quickly. One of the gym instructors comes out, very concerned one of the student's parents has not come for retreival. He asks me if I can maybe drive home the student, but all I can offer is to ride with the student on the bus. The instuctor heads back inside as I look down the road at the traffic, expecting the bus to come around the curve in the road, as it begins to rain. Dream Shift: I am at friend's new domicile with her two dogs who love me. I am about to depart and I feel odd as I realize I've not walked the dogs. I assure them I will walk them next time I visit but I am still trying to find out about this audition. Dream versions of my friends's "parents" are in a nearby bed, thanking me for taking care of the dogs when I can. Outside I head down a driveway similar to the one for the Pompton Plains [New Jersey] house up in which I grew, except here at the curb is a tall, wide wall, and emptying onto Orange Road (e.g., the Montclair [New Jersey] house). There is a large hole in the driveway in the asphalt near right side of the wall's archway into the street, enough to really damage a car. While I try again to get through to my voice mail, I let an office chair fall into the hole and while it fits on its side, it's not enough if a car tire ran into the hole.

Sunday, December 02, 2007 8:07am Harry Potter and the Missing Breakfast
I flit back and forth from Dream Detachment (watching events in the third person) to being Harry Potter, in an unspecified period (possibly between GoF and OoP due to the time period/event references).
(As Harry) I am in the Weasley kitchen "at breakfast." The kitchen is not like the sets used for the films, and Arthur and Molly are there with another adult, discussing Fred and George going into dress making or such. (As Harry), I find this amusing, half-quipping some comment that they realize the twins have not been following the coarse their parents have planned.
I quickly try to be all series and say, "So they've been studying fabrics, have they?" While they note I am trying to evade their questions, I notice the milk into a deep cup I am pouring is utterly clear liquid. I head around the table island (which has cupboards on top of which is the flat table top), only to find all the cereal is gone, which Arthur points out. I quickly suggest I go to the store to fetch more. Arthur tries to prevent this but I point out I've already poured out the milk, now white and halfway filling an empty bowl.
I pull out some paper money (American dollars) from my pocket but before I can leave to get more cereal and milk, Arthur plunks down (dreamwise would be) a twenty pound note, indicating (that I use it), that I only spend six pounds.
I quickly depart and hike over some very hilly though deep-green grassy terrain (some of the grass so dark green I almost suspect I am dreaming, but not enough to experience Lucid Dreaming).
I find Ron, who commisserates about his parents being so inquisitive. As we come upon an door-open building in which several young girls are walking about, Ron begins to go on about our skills at Quidditch, at one point saying how well we "can jump" (as opposed to saying flying). He makes one reference while pointing at a girl as though to elicit an concurring response, but she sits (she's on a cell phone), annoyed Ron is bothering her.
Dream Shift:
In a large pond (or small lake), I am with some young male Dream Character in a large kayak-like boat. The two seater is large enough oh which for me to stand as though it's a deck. Several yards away is a far larger boat similar in design to the SS Guppy (Cap'n Crunch's ship), aboard on which are other Dream Characters, preparing for some sea-battle demonstration.
(No longer Harry, since the Dream Shift), I take up my role in the play-acting, essentially to impress those on the shore behind the other ship. Nautical language is shouted back and forth, and I direct my passenger to steer various points starboard and such, despite our boat being tied off near a large set of reeds.
Suddenly the cannon blasts contain (and fire) actual cannon balls. Coming at me, I see one fast enough to hit the deck (literally). The "captain" of the ship shouts back that it's part of the demonstration (despite the obvious safety hazard).
Dream Shift:
At night I am with a few people arriving at a cul-de-sac with a scene view overlook. We are searching for someone or something, and there are very few streetlights, but a lot of fog. We turn back to return to our vehicle, which is at the far end and actually on another road up a flight of stairs. Along the concrete stairs and along the ridge about ten or so steps up are street lights, glowing eerily in the white fog.
Suddenly they begin to buzz and dim, alarming those with me, that the (apparently supernatural) killer they/we are seeking is about to show up suddenly and start killing as many of us as it can. Oh great... Now Dream Memory tells me about this killer being supernatural, et al.
We rush for the stairs but the street lights have dimmed enough the ghostly killer is able to snatch up a few of the group. A women is hurled into a deep swimming pool, her wrist chained to (presumably) her husband who appears to be Jack Coleman of Heroes, who goes into the water as well. Via Dream Detachment I am able to see them sink from the point of view of being underwater. "Coleman" is still conscious and fights his way to the surface to pull his young wife to safety.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007 5:49am Warrior princess and Geographic Shifts

Real [Waking] Life news:
Some time ago my hard drive was getting a bit full, so onto a 2gig portable drive I backed-up my MySpace files (profile segment information, all my Dream Journal blogs for this and my Primary profile, et al). I frequently backed up from it the pages I have elsewhere online, such as my pages, but I began to rely on the 2gig drive, and the other day, it decided it'd Had Enough, and computers no longer recognize it. It's little green light shines for a bit, but instead of kicking in and the drive and its (numerous irreplaceable) files normally being available, the little light goes out. Due to this, unless the portable drive is repairable, the three or so dreams I'd composed but not yet uploaded are gone.
D'oh. This is also why there are no dream entries for October.
I may be able to re-collate most of the primary-profile blog files, but that will be an arduous process, if do'able at all. Another, new, 2-gig drive has been acquired, but I will be using it merely to transport files, not on which to save them exclusively.

Lots of Dream Fade;
At one point I am riding in a car through a small forested area as though out of the mountains. While I am not operating the vehicle, I am in the left side front seat. There is a male at my right at the wheel, and a Dream Character female behind him. Ahead I see a large green wrought-iron gate, an open gate wide enough for the small vehicle, next to which is a green metal trash can. My sense of direction tells me we're headed south, even though the gate seems to be the northern gate of the town's main cemetery (hence my suddenly deducing we're in my original [New Jersey] home of Pompton Plains).
"We're taking a short cut," the woman says. "We're taking the old Jurassic Park Road."
As we pass the open gate I glance up and see a large, hand-calligraphied sign reading "Wyre Way," with a bust-profile of a dragon.
"The sign says 'Wyre Way'," I point out, as we turn left from the dirt road onto the Boulevard, and immediately left, which seems as though we're going north towards the Boulevard. I glance to my left and I am now in the right front seat, the male is driving at the left, and the woman in the backseat of the small car (Volkswagen?) resembles Gwyneth Paltrow. Neither reply to my comment, as I notice beyond the woman is the gate we're paralleling, just behind is a long, grey wooden structure of some kind, somewhat dilapidated, though so very grey, it gives the impression it was built to look that way.
Dream Shift:
I at the rear of some large auditorium, and someone is relaying to me an ancient story of two large populaces either on one large island or two small, nearly connected islands. There is a large mountain wall between the two and one tribe dislikes the other. I get the sense of seeing each area from a great distance, but the still scenes resemble the grade-school like black and white line-drawings used for the evil, narrow-minded, religiously-intolerant Chick Tracts.
Warrior members from the one tribe scale the wall to get to the other tribe to capture their leader's daughter or such. Near me is a table against a wall by the main doorway. On the table is the large figure of a doll, about twelve inches tall or so. She is dressed in ancient Asian garb, and she is within an ornate protective box, the front of which is glass. Someone gently raises the box and the figure slumps forward against the glass as it raises, her head suddenly large and misshapen. The figure rests in the hands of he who raised the box (as I am focused on the fiture, I do not see who it is). This takes place while the tale is being told, and the figure is placed into my hands. I gently rest the figure on the table, where it is able to stand on its own.
"And that," the small figure says in a melodic female voice, raising her arm. "Is how the Warrior Princess came to our land..."

Thursday, November 08, 2007 6:04am Guillotine operator
I am to be the executioner, operating a guillotine. Already in place is a Dream Character woman who, while closely resembling Cate Blanchett, she is not Queen Elizabeth I, although here she is the queen monarch, and apparently, according to Dream Memory, I am either her best friend or former lover (it's not entirely clear).
Oddly enough, even though she is in place on the guillotine, she is face up (on her back), and she is seemingly as unworried about the situation as I am about having to decapitate her. A large, silent throng nearby watches as I ask her if she intends to close her eyes or what. She isn't sure. The guillotine position is also odd, in that there is a building next to it: the "audience" can see it, but lengthwise, the bottom of her shoes facing them.
I realize I'm not versed in being a guillitine operator, and I follow the rope-cord to where it is tied off. I do not want it to be messy; I manage to recall most guillotines are set by raising the blade and a mechanism lets it fall from its optimum height. I pull on the rope at the corner of the building, to manage not seeing the blade fall, which it does with a very solid thunk. Thankfully I am aware that I do not have to do clean up, so I have not had to watch her die or deal with the corpse. The emotion of the loss rises and I gently weep at the loss of her life.

Sunday, November 11, 2007 6:21am Visiting old church-friends
I am in a quaint town, built on oddly multi-leveled geography, so much is making one's way uphill.
I am dropped off at the house in which lives Rudy Wawra, an elderly gentleman of my youth. I am to stay with him for some reason, in a town in which I've never been, at a house in which he never lived.
As I go to try for the door, my mind ponders over some local urban legend that this town has a single leader, an old man (not Wawra) but that another old man is an assistant but in reality the same old man, so people tell "the assistant" the problem more openly than they would being starstruck meeting the Old Man-boss, or some such.
I go top try the door and it is unlocked. I enter what seems to be a large living room in the rustic house, resembling a (modern) hunter's cabin. In front of me along the wall is a door, then two chairs, one directly in front of the other, just beyond which is a fireplace next to which they're facing (the chairs face away from me). Despite the size of the room it's almost an entry room. There is no immediate signs of life so I go to knock on the door with small glass panes is at my left at entering. Before I can knock on it, my hand touches the wooden chair directly in front of me.
Apparently it's somethng of a recliner, as it slips back a bit, making a louding ratcheting sound. In the second chair, more of a medium-high wingback, Wawra is sitting and startled at the sudden sound in the silence, all but jumps out of his skin. "I didn't hear you come in," he says, my mind making no question over the fact in real life he's been dead for decades. He has, however, been expecting me.
At the same chair sound, from my back right comes another startled sound. I turn to see along the building's front wall a recessed window below which is a sofa on which lifelong friend Gail wakes and from which rises surprised to see me, about as much as I am to see her, as I didn't expect her to be here.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007 11:25pm Car wrecks and suggested sex
Some female students have barricaded themselves into a school room or cafeteria, and for some reason I am brought in to negotiate or learn their demands. I am able to see through a hole, either in the wall or through their barricade, and to my surprise, the girls are unclothed. They are very skinny so are borderline attractive and I am not overly distracted. Dream Memory tells me the two Dream Character girls, closest to the opening where I can talk with them, generally respect me, and that one of them Really Likes me. She even makes an offer along the lines of having done so previously.
I remind the long haired blonde that once (I'm certain) she's eighteen (I'm a little vague as to their age/s), it would only then be prudent and "legally safe" to pursue that aspect of a relationship.
Dream Shift: I'm a passenger in a rather slow-moving vehicle. Nearby is a multi-series of car accidents taking place. Dream Detachment has me witness many of these, close enough to see but far enough that some resemble models. I watch as one car goes off the road as it declines sharply, allowing the car to go straight through the air, landing heavily onto a section of the bridge that causes a hole to open up through which the car drops. I watch helplessly these dreadful wrecks in a sense of horror.

Dream Journal 2014 | Dream Journal 2013 | Dream Journal 2012 | Dream Journal 2011
Dream Journal 2010 | Dream Journal 2009 | Dream Journal 2008 | Dream Journal 2007

Content/s copyright © 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 site created February 29, 2008

All Rights Reserved Without Prejudice UCC 1-308
All Rights Reserved Without Prejudice CCC § 1207