© January 2019 Ari Stone All Rights Reserved




I was attending a huge Italian family gathering outdoor early evening-daylight banquet dinner. That had a similar vibe to the “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” family.   It felt like to be the big annual Christmas family gathering meal.  There wasn’t really a spot for me.  So, I was flying low around banquet table height.  I flew over to where they had the ‘famous fresh sourdough bread’ in a plastic crate box set up to act as cubbies with a handful of other crate boxes. (connects with Famous Tevis Cheese maker and Famous Tomato Sauce – Love dream)  I tore off about a what would have been about a quarter of the bread loaf had it all been there, there was about three-quarters left.  It was still warm and almost even hot.  The outer crust was perfectly browned to golden honey yellow and was a nice lightly crunchy shell layer.  The inside was soft and light and fluffy.  Everyone in the family loved this bread.  It was everyone’s favorite and there was only a certain amount for everyone to have to eat. 

I took my piece of bread and went a small distance away and began to eat it a little animal style, sorta stuffing the whole thing up to my face and mouth to sort ‘mow’ eat it.  I was eating similar to how the fishman ate in the movie “The Shape of Water” and I sort of looked like him too.   Then, an older Italian guy with a big ball shaped belly, who looked like the actor Joe Viterelli with a full head of thinning grey-white hair and the Bill Clinton style bulb nose, said to me “Hey ! . . . Your grandmother (?) wants a piece of that fresh bread.”  I realized I had taken my share of the bread from what seemed to be the last fresh loaf of it at the banquet.  I replied, “There’s still some over there.” And pointed to the cubby where I’d just gotten my share off of the loaf.  There was still a quarter end piece of bread loaf similar to the size I’d just taken but somehow that piece was more dried up and even hard or overcooked. The portion left was a split open (one side) half from the center loaf section and it had very little of the soft bread inside to it.

I did a quick flash through in mind to see if there were any other bread loafs at the party and saw only ‘old’ breads and only one loaf of sourdough that was the typical store bought pre-sliced in the standard plastic bread bag with only 5 slices left in the package.  The ‘Uncle Viterelli’ looking Italian man seated next to the cubby said, “YO . . . this piece isn’t that good . . . give her some of yours.”   I walked back over to where he was knowing that none of the other breads would satisfy as a replacement.  As I addressed Viterelli, I indicating the portions left of the fresh sourdough bread I said, “There is another piece like mine.” He responded, “Yeah, but that one’s all dried out and hard.  I had to agree it did look overcooked and mostly all crunchy (center portions too), it seemed to have dried out even more because I’d taken off my portion from the loaf.  I now pointed to the center middle loaf section still in the cubby that was mostly crust and he said, “Yo, that’s not good enough . . . give your grandmother a piece of yours.”  I thought about it but, I really wanted the piece I was eating.  I almost gave my piece to the ball-belly uncle but, then I stopped and said, “I deserve to have nice things to eat too and this is my portion.  She can get her own piece that’s not mine, there are plenty of other foods she can eat.”  I now seemed to have a name tag spot at a table a little distance away from us.  I noted now the tables had nice fancy white table cloths and a fancy bubble shape wine goblets set at each place setting, filled with a nice deep red-purple grape wine in each goblet.  There were also fancy folded napkins to look like sea shells (Vatican dream connect with handsome married man I show how I pass through walls and place the shell into the wall as part of the demo).  I was still standing near the ball-belly uncle and tried to grab my piece of bread from me, I almost let him have it, but then I pulled it out of his read and stated, “No, this is mine and I’m eating it.”  He now tried to play on my sympathy and said, “But, what about your poor grandmother? (Jeremy Whelan Mosaic acting drawing – buried dead grandmother connection – of typical fake actors (Connect Magik light up crystals better than Arthur’s sword dream) who take themselves away from the emotions and the scene by using old acting methods and thinking about something completely unrelated to the scene.)   I knew the grandmother would be fine without the bread, as it seemed she was going to have the full 7 course meal once the other relatives finished with BBQing and preparing it all in the nearby outdoor kitchen area.  I wasn’t so sure I’d be staying for the seven course meal or that I was even going to have access to all of the meal, I just wanted the bread until the meal was ready and it seemed the meal would likely be too much food for me anyways.  The ball-belly uncle then realizing I wasn’t giving up my bread piece said, “Yo . . . go get some more then.” to me.  

Apparently, this special sourdough bread came from a secret hidden spot that only I knew about and was even in some fenced off type of area.  It was similar to the secret bee pollen that Adam knew about in my favorite film “Upside Down” that was from both worlds and contained both the gravitational fields of the two opposite gravitational polarity worlds. Ultimately, the pollen for the ‘pink honey’ and floating pancakes, was the key to reuniting the two disparate worlds along with he and Eden’s Twin Flame love for one another. I continued to eat my bread piece monster fishman style the whole time.  I decided I better go and get more bread, least everyone want my bread piece, and decided there needed to be more bread anyway for the rest of the feast.   The rest of the family there, around 50 people or so, continued to friendly family chat amongst themselves and take periodic sips of the deep purple-red wine in the fancy bubble goblets.  (Couple guy next to me in a church like setting offers me wine dream, excited to have me as his artist)

I flew-swam to and then through the kitchen area where various Italian family members were busy preparing traditional Italian meal items, after passing through that, I was outside at the BBQ balcony banister area, where a male Italian family male member was BBQing (‘new’ ‘improved’ Teleportation devises that don’t work and guy telling me about his BBQ sauce recipe dream connect) things like pineapples and making shish kabobs for the meal.  I then stood up on top of the banister guard rail and flapped my arms like a pair of wings, got lift, and jumped off the banister and glided gently down to the ground below.  I then took off flying low to the ground in a horizontal position parallel with the ground, hovering around three feet of less above it.  I took myself away from ‘My Big Fat Italian Family Banquet’ and low flew to the nearby high up cliff edge.  It was dark out now.  I looked off the cliff edge and saw all the beautiful lights of the city all lit up way off in the distance and the night sky was a glorious clear and star filled sky.  (Green and Yellow galaxy, me in outerspace in Rice shaped ship dream)

I didn’t consciously know where the secret spot was so I simply willed myself to go up in the night sky and to wherever my secret spot was.  It felt two or three family members were trying to chase-follow me, but they were always somewhere off in the distance and never ‘seen’ visually.  I let myself glide-float-fly up into the picturesk cityscape far below and then toward my secret spot location.  As I got near to the location I lowered back down again to flying very low and just above the ground in the same horizontal position parallel to the ground.   (Conveyor belt I bypass and rapidly pass hundreds of others and go to the top dream)  I was getting flashes of a queen bed white mattress and conversations with my cousin Victor as I flew.  There still felt to be two Italian family members chasing me.  I reached the area that was equal to the chain link fence in the Upside Down film, only it was a small cave mouth with boulder rocks and smaller rocks around the opening. (Cave Dreams – Griz Lee and carrots connect and scuba air tank with leak, but ok)  I lowered down even more now to enter the cave.  A small a small stream of water around five feet wide max and only one or two feet deep and the ‘river’ reduced in size to enter the almost twice as small diameter cave opening.

As I flew just to being inside the dark cave with the waters just below me, it had a light sewer system vibe, and I knew all I had to do was fly into the cave and the flow would pull me into my secret bread spot.   I knew the ‘others’ could not follow me even if they tried as they would need to be able to fly-swim and have abilities like mine and they seemed to have any, which is why I had to be the one to get the bread.  I continued to fly-flow inside the dark cave that was just large enough to fit my form without touching walls or the water and I flew silently for a few minutes.  The two family members that’s been trying to follow me, felt also like guards that wore navy blue uniforms and I knew they could not and would no follow me into the cave. 

I finally reached the square area where the bread dough maker was.  It was a little large than the cave parts I’d come from and had ledges that ran around the square space just above the water.  The cement rock areas were cast in a greenish hue and the ceiling was now about five feet above my head.  I stayed in my horizontal position and could see there were only three walls and the one adjacent to me was open and I could see a young lady working in a chef’s style kitchen in the area below and not part of the cave system.   I looked at the ledges and wondered why there was not any fresh made bread on them.  Usually, more bread was ready within one to two or three days and waiting on the ledges. 

I looked more closely at the bread maker machine, which was a vertical shooter tube that went into the water.  The tip was below the water line and was supposed to be above it to work. The tubing looked similar to a wide fish tank plastic air bubbler tubing. The tip was supposed to be above the water level and spatter-spraying dough onto the ledges that would then take a day or two to rise. I reached into the water and pulled it up and noticed saw a small marble had been stuffed into the very tip of the spout as well and had plugged it up.  I unstopped the tube and off-whitish-yellow dough began to spatter-spray all over like it was supposed to.

I looked observed the twenties to thirties aged attractive blond gal in the kitchen, as she moved busily about in her white chef type clothing.  She was the only chef in the kitchen.  I thought, this could take way too long now to have to wait for the bread, as the meal was in a few hours at the most and not one, two, or three days away.   Lots of dime size goo-dough-blobs of batter continued being sprayed about onto the ledges and the walls.  Sort of reminding me of paint splatter art fling making. Had the tubing not been plugged up there should have been around ten or fifteen loaves of bread ready already.  I commented to myself, “Who does this?  Why is it plugged up?” and then to the female baker below around twenty feet away, “Did you do this?”  Suddenly she knew she did and she’d done it because the dough that supplied the tubing came from inside her kitchen and took away from her baking materials.  It also seemed the tubing was the ‘old’ antiquated way of making the bread and that basically ‘no one’ (aside from me) ever came to this cave anymore to get any bread and so it was sort of wasteful in her opinion to keep the bread machine running ‘all that time’ and lose her ingredients.

She was ok with me having restarted it and she continued to move about the kitchen ratatouille style.  Like the chef with the mouse in his hair guiding him to make better professional meals.  She appeared to now be seasoning soups and preparing other items as well, that also seemed for ‘My Big Fat Italian Family Banquet.’

Then I woke up



I found myself in a suburban with a small group of five or six people.   It was time to do a math test (Brownies and how time flows class dream).  The test felt to be for 4th to 5th level grade Earth math. My math folder was like my state court case folder, white, three inch bind, and huge.  It was filled with math practice and learning papers.  I tried to flip over the papers toward the back of the folder and half of the stack one or two holes came off of the center metal binding.   I tried to get them back into the outermost metal bind they’d come off of and instead I left a rumple-lump-up (Rumplestiltzkin dream connects) with the pages.  There was a guy there trying to help me with my math folder, as I was not too sure I was ready or prepared for the test, that likely included greatest and least common denominators, fractions, and things like that). 

I began to line-through cross-off things with my mechanical light green clicker pencil and I was trying to last minute cram and go over things.   My guy friend seemed to say it was all ok and he was basically going to help me pass the test or delay the test.  He knew the administrators of the test a little bit and he’d see about getting me more time to review things further.  But, it actually felt like he was going to take the test for or with me.  I kept on thinking of my local state court judge for my case.  The guy really seemed to like me for some reason as a friend and wanted to see me pass the test. 

I now found myself at the top of my childhood home’s driveway and my huge math folder was open and resting on the blacktop surface.  All the pages were back in the binder correctly and half of the pages were on the left and the other half on the right.  A guy came up to me again to help me, he felt to be the same guy from the vehicle and he also may have been someone new.  He really wanted to help me and suggested we could tutor people.  But, now ‘math’ seemed to mean singing and music and he was suggesting that we could lead a singing group to earn extra money after class/school.  I was hesitant and saying I didn’t really know a lot about music, as it seemed to include teaching others how to play instruments like the clarinet and/or the flute too.  I thought, drums I can do and sorta recognize notes, but don’t really recall sheet music reading so much anymore.  But, my new guy friend didn’t care, he was cool with that.  He was basically going to teach the others anyway and I’d mostly just be there as part of it and look like I was leading and teaching it.  I really wasn’t so sure about that, but was going to go along with it because I didn’t seem to offer or have a better idea to offer just yet.

Now the place at the top of my driveway located in the national forest, was more like a type of cabins and counselors camp grounds. The lead counselor (head of the camp) may have been the same guy who was there to help me with my math and taking the test. He had a type of forestry brown “Only you can prevent forest fires” job vibe and seemed to be a forest ranger.  The hair on his head was a similar medium brown hue and he was leading a group of around twenty to fifty adult campers standing in a circle to sing an old Christmas song tune, that he’d written new lyrics for.  He’d already passed around a sheet with the new lyrics to about every third person in the circle. I didn’t want to sing.  He reminded me of a former acquaintance in California named John that was a friend of a lady who had a dad that worked on the first two hundred levels of the secret underground bases as a plumber, but was denied clearance below that. That John guy in 3D was interested in me as more than a friend, but I never felt attracted to him that way.  Standing next to Ranger John was a lady with a longer oval face shape who reminded me of my new nurse friend.  The long faced lady (also reminding me somehow of the ‘Scream’ movie film mask) and she was co-leading the singing time with Ranger John. 

Ranger John started singing his new lyrics to the old tunes and got the circle of adults to sort of sing along as best they could with the new words.  It was all a cappella.  The long face lady joined in and harmonized with him.  They were not bad and not too great either, mostly just ‘ok.’  The rest of the adults in the circle were trying to sing with them, but it was a little haphazard.  Then the long face lady messed up and began to sing some of the old lyrics but Ranger John was on it and conscientious it.  Everyone in the group stopped singing for a moment as they were confused by this. Ranger John leaned over with his head closer to the long face gal and he began to sing again to re-harmonize the long face gal and essentially carry-on with the show like a professional actor might if a fellow actor messed up a line. He was very happy about his lead position as head counselor.   The long face lady felt to be the other main lead counselor of the camp.  Ranger John was really enjoying leading the singing.

I mostly just smiled and watched everyone else singing and stood there in the circle group and would occasionally chuckle-nose laugh, as they all seemed to mostly be enjoying the singing or they were singing because they were told to and expected to do so. I continued to encourage smile chuckle laugh and at one point I half-heartedly or rather no-heartedly tried to look like I was singing at least a few words. I was the only not singing in the group and I didn’t want to appear rude by not contributing at all, so I sang literally only about ten words where seven of them were only lip-synced and I only verbally sang three words.  Then, I was done singing after the three words verbally and went back to lip-syncing and trying to pass it off as singing.  The group continued to sing a couple of more songs haphazardly as this was their first time to sing the new lyrics and not everyone had a sheet of paper with the words on it.

They were almost done now with circle singing time (Meadow’s new school and singing time with the physically challenged kids at lunch dream connect).  I spotted a projector in the room nearby that reminded me of the now antiquated projectors used to project the music lyrics for the congregation to follow. I spoke up and suggested they could print a mirror reverse and upside down version of the lyrics onto a sheet of paper and then project the words for everyone to see.  The long faced gal walked off talking to herself about how that was a good idea and mumbling how she’d thought of that earlier and already ‘knew’ to do that and was going to, but then didn’t.

Ranger John was all smiles now that the group was done singing his new lyrics to old tunes.  He was very good at leading and inspiring others to do his way and will.   Overall, I admired his ability but I thought he should develop new tunes to go with his new lyrics instead of singing new words to old tunes. Now that singing time was finished, everyone left except for Ranger John and he walked over to me and asked me what I thought about his singing session.   I replied it was good, but that he should put his new lyrics to new tunes.  He was thinking about it. 

Then . . . the bear-giant man arrived. He looked like a cross between a black bear and a giant, and stood around seven feet tall.  Some of the campers freaked and ran off screaming “A BEAR!!!” (Rough drop off bear gets in van with me dream connect and Counselor Troy dream connect)

He was complaining to Ranger John about how he was being treated by some of the other campers and how they were being rude to him.  The bear-man was being semi-rude to the campers and some of the campers were being semi-rude to him too and were expressing some prejudice towards him (racism) as if it was because of how he looked. But, the bear-man was being a jerk and was receiving back the same type of energies he was putting out.

Ranger John then directed the bear-man holding the baby girl (that reminding me of baby Pricilla in Waking 3D Life) and his three family members; wife, son, and daughter, along with me and possibly the family that had insulted him, into a special outdoor campers Indian circle/theatre area.  We all followed Ranger John through the large, thick, tree-log, and light honey colored archway.  The long faced lady followed us in as well.  Ranger John directed everyone to sit on one of the tree-log benches, that was basically a tree trunk cut in half from top to bottom to make a long wooden bench seat (like at my daughter Meadows school in Waking 3D Life in the outdoor theatre area), everyone sat. Ranger John and long face lady, sat opposite us on another tree-log bench.   Ranger John noticed me staring at him and craning my neck to look up under his forestry-fireman type hat.  His looked a little big and sort of gapped around his head.  He noted my puzzled look of ‘did he bic shave off his hair?’  Finally Ranger John said, “Yes, I shaved off my hair.” And he then briefly took off his hat and showed off his bald pate to me and the others very briefly, put his hat back on, and that was that.  Ranger John then kindly guided everyone to talk and listen to the problem and to one another.  He directed his attention and question at the bear man, “Now, what seems to be the problem?”  

The bear man began to somewhat arrogantly state how rude he’s been treated.  But, he said it with a twinkle-glint of playful mischievousness in his eyes and speech, reminding me of one of my favorite pastors in the past, Hon Prater.  (Dream connect Pastor Hon and his wife, I get a diploma just for being born and MJ con men).  I still wasn’t sure why I was there as I’d not been rude toward the bear man.  But, Ranger John wanted me there to listen and observe.  The bear man, still holding the bright teal eyed baby girl (Pricilla baby dream connects), concluded his complaint. A few other brief mild discussions occurred from his daughter and things seemed to be getting resolved.  But, then for humor to the bear man, he held up the baby and her head went leaned off to the side and she went wide-bug-eyed  as if in horror and screamed!  The bear man then ran outside the Indian archway gates with her, as he was trying to generate and instill fear.

I got up and went to see if the baby was ok.  I got outside the gates and saw the bear man chuckle laughing with the baby.  He told me he’d taught her to scream on cue and then rhetorically asked, “isn’t that funny.?”  I replied, “No.” and then “How did you teach a baby to scream on cue?”  He replied he discovered if he held her a certain way and he lightly shook her at the same time, then she did the head lean, wide eyes, and scream.  As he was saying his process he was also demoing it again and then after he and the baby coo-laughed.  I realized now he was shaking the baby way to hard.  He was again saying he’d learned if he just shakes her like this . . . and he was shaking her again . . . that she’d scream and the baby did the scream again.  He was now shaking the baby even harder as she’d stopped screaming and he was trying to get her to continue.  She was still quiet and I was getting very concerned now for the baby.  I told him to stop it.  He did not.  I said, “You are hurting her! What you are doing can cause brain damage from shaken baby syndrome and she may be physically challenged.” He finally stopped shaking the baby. It seemed as though it was registering for the time in his consciousness that shaking the baby like that was abuse.  The bear man replied, “Oh…”   like he did not know that before.  He was used to treating the baby bad to amuse himself and others with the scream and he was entertained by pretend freaking others out. The bear man headed back inside the large archway into the outdoor Indian theatre meeting area again.  I followed him back in.

The bear-giant man now looked more like a normal person, but still was giant size.  As we came back in I said, “Why did you do that?” for the others in the meeting to hear.  He replied it was a joke and he acted like it was ‘funny’ to pull him to pull their trick and scare others with it and then tell them the truth, that it was all fake and only a joke.  We sat down again.  I said to the now more giant man, “That’s abuse and it’s not ok and you could permanently damage her.”   I then stood back up again and looked into the giant man’s lightly red-ish light brown eyes and at his more yellowish eye whites.  He had a sort of Archie Comic book eye-closeup-gulp look in his eyes.  He was used to doing his shtick and getting away with it.  He seemed to lack knowing other skills.  He was now shaking the baby again, as if to demo-like-say, ‘See, she’s fine!’  He seemed largely on auto pilot and even like he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.  I lightly touched his forearm and told him again in a soft and very firm voice, “That’s abuse!”

The judge, Ranger John, was seeing it all too but still trying to listen and hear both sides yet and to help everyone get along, even if they didn’t like the bear-giant man.  But, Ranger John saw it was abuse of the baby too.  He wasn’t going to step in just yet though, as he still needed to fully observe more to ensure the facts.  The giant man was starting to register that he was being abusive and he seemed to be having some genuine remorse now, but he shook that baby again really hard.  I could now seem to even see-feel the baby’s brain rattling around as if loose at the base of her skull and in her head with an inch gap around it all.  He was again doing it, to ask in his way, ‘This is abuse?’ and ‘Are you sure?’ and ‘because this is how he’d always done it before and she’d been ok.’  I reaffirmed for the giant man “Yes, that is abuse and you can permanently damage her brain and her for life if you keep doing that.”

I then took the giant man back outside the gates and told him sternly, “That’s abuse and if you keep on doing that I will report you to the authorities.”  He knew I was inferring a child protective services type place that would take the baby away.  He finally stopped shaking the baby again and really was only now just registering that what he’d been doing was highly abusive and he needed to stop.  It seemed he did not want to be reported on and have the baby taken away from him.  I told him if he ever shakes the baby again, I’ll report him.  He seemed he was going to not shake the baby anymore, because he did not want to lose her, or be reported on.

I then dreamed I woke up and moved the two faery tarot cards from in front of my clock face to look and see what time it was. (In actual Waking 3D Life, I had Steam Punk Tarot cards blocking the brightness of the glowing numbers).  With the card moved out of the way I saw the clock flashing red zeros (in W3DL it glows blue) or no numbers at all.  I thought the power must have gone out and I wondered what time.  It then seemed to be flashing 12:12 like it’d gone out at 12:12am or 11:11 yet, still like there were no numbers and just the two center colon dots flashing.