(01) The Fool. Floating through space, floating through the ether. It’s dark but there is luminescence everywhere, speckled through the endless vacuum like fairy lights. It’s beautiful, but you’ve been here before. You have seen this beauty a hundred times, every single time you come back.

Standing before a wall of ancient glyphs that glow and scroll down. There are hundreds — no — thousands of them. Glowing in a synchronized pulse. You can’t read them, but you know they mean something. They’re guarding secrets that would be accessible if only you knew how to read them. Maybe in time, but it’s too early now. You’re not ready yet. Still, they’re quite beautiful, and you find yourself admiring them. You trace a certain few that stand out with your eyes, etching them in your mind.

Space starts to churn, a pyramid opens and the blades turn over the film of glyphs. Everything starts to come apart, space turns into different layers all contracting and expanding to form something new. This is the point of creation and it resonates with majesty.

(02) The Magician. The day of the interview came and I made my way to the location. When I got there, I found myself approaching a magnificent house near what seemed to be a grand pharmaceutical company. I knew that the place I was about to go to was full of difficult people, but I didn’t really mind. I sat on a white leather stool that felt more like a feathery cloud. When the host came out, he was elegantly dressed. Flawless, actually. I don’t think I had ever seen a more elegant man, but his eyes disclosed how tormented he was. He was going crazy and there was nobody that could stop him. His words rang aggressively during the interview, and he seemed puzzled that he could not get a rise or anxious response after all of his personal remarks. I simply smiled back.

The cleaning crew came out. He got upset at them for barging in and fired them. I felt bad for the girls, which turned away with a heartbroken pout and went to gather their things. When we were done I excused myself and went out another door. It leads straight to the pharmaceutical company. Now standing by it in another angle, I could appreciate how large it is. The decorations were white and cerulean blue, which should give one a peaceful feeling, but this time around it didn’t.

I walked in and informed one of the tellers what I was doing there in the first place. Shock colored her face, but she was very professional and she told me how I could leave. I was looking for a place in specific.

When I got there, it was a dock by an aquarium and a water park. I met with my beloved there and told him all about my quirky day. Arm in arm, we stood before a scene of colorful madness; water bursts, colorful umbrellas and beach balls seemed to float around. The scene turned to a tropical Hayao Miyasaki film before our eyes. As the sun began to set, we turned towards one another and kissed.

Change of scene.
The man lived in secrecy, but he invades familiar houses and tests those in the environment. Grandpa gave me a potion to drink and ward him off, and for that same reason he could not manifest himself. Man or demon? I can’t tell. He is mischievous and he can take animal form on a whim. He liked the color blue and putting on a show, but what he did not realize is that he was imposing. He wasn’t welcome in personal space. Especially not Grandpa’s closet.

He was known for this, but it manifested in fear rather than admiration. He was not of this world so he did not know the difference.

(03) The High Priestess. There are three girlfriends on a spiritual retreat in India. The forest that surrounds them is green and bountiful, almost out of a fairytale. They laugh in unison, relishing a new-found appreciation for life. The rituals they participated in were physically demanding, but spiritually enlightening. The people they met with did not take the voyage as clearly as they did, but they managed to enjoy themselves anyway.

Upon returning to their houses, they found them in top condition. Even though they had been gone for a long few months, their houses were newly painted and welcoming them in. With gratitude they smiled and made their way into their renewed houses. They thanked the staff in India for their marvelous work and enjoyed their renewed sense of self-love and intuition.

Change of scene.
Two students sit in a classroom alone but don’t talk to one another. The boy has his computer out and he types away feverishly. She takes out hers and writes him “Hello" to be friendly. The minutes roll by without a response, so she decides to focus on writing assignments instead. To her surprise, the instant message window begins to blink and she pulls out the message. She is met with, “get your nose fixed, move to Italy, be happy there." There were a line of ugly things jutting out like aggressive knives at her. She realized he didn’t really realize she was in the room with him, so she got up and marched right over. She shut his computer, pushed him back and then placed her hand over his second chakra, Swadhisthana. She pinched it and immobilized him, but threatened to crush him if he moved. He got an ear full of reprimands for his behavior, and after a while the fear started to shine in his eyes. He was bullied into being nice after acting like a dog.

(04) The Empress. This story is set in the holy crusades for our mother church. The walls of Rome open to pilgrims looking to find benediction therein. The procession files in slowly but steadily. Some carry a large red rope in form of chain links. They line the walls of every city with it whenever they pass. The curious fact is that it is not a continuous line. Rather, it is separated now and again. Sometimes you can go for miles and not see it, but sometimes you can see it every few steps. No matter where you go, it’s there and symbolic of their sacrifice.

There is music playing in the streets, the sun is out and everyone is at peace. The greens and oranges of their tunics shine out. This is a place of abundance where those once lost will find compassion.

(05) The Emperor. The whole family sits at a table to celebrate the birthday of their youngest. Things are awkward and a little tense; they have not sat as a single unit for a very long time. In fact, not all of them remain alive. They neglect to find the depression of the second eldest, who refuses to participate in conversation. She excuses herself and is followed by her aunt, the youngest girl’s Mom. The patriarch sits at the end of the table, unseeing and unaware of the meaning of pain. He felt enough in his own time, but now he is a very different person because of it.

Change of scene.
Riding bikes with Dad, looking for Mom. The park is luscious and green; it’s quite lovely. The sun kissed our cheeks amicably as we went. I noticed his eyes were searching for her as se went. When I found her, she looked quite radiant.

(06) The Hierophant. The stars shine on his black mantle, framed by red lining and a gleaming golden badge. He is both creator and destroyer. In one hand, he holds the Moon. In the other, the Sun. He raises one to manifest it and lowers the other to give it rest. When they meet in the middle, something magical happens.

You can’t see much of him under his mantle; it’s a real mystery but it’s also quite magical. The stars twinkle in dissonance, with some speckles of shooting stars throughout. If he were to walk into a ball, all eyes would fall on him and stay all night. He looks like the Magician but he is not. He is a whimsical depiction of God.

(07) The Lovers. Your best friend lay in slumber on her birthday. You were spending the night before to celebrate with her. Somehow, she always got first, but you didn’t mind. You sat up on the bed and watched her as she slept. She had it all, and yet she didn’t really notice. She wanted more to the point that want turned to need. Even with all of her jarring flaws, you still managed to love her just as she is. All your friends are a little weird anyway.

Your fingers find your journal resting on your lap. As you flip through the pages, you pause to read some of the pull quotes and most distant stories. It feels like someone else wrote them, the thoughts are so different from your own. You think back to how you met your friend, how the two of you clicked instantly when you met.

You smile as her Mom comes into the room and beckons you out. You have a discrete heart to heart about your friend in slumber, tell her all the stories worth telling without too many details. A smile comes to your lips as you retell all the moments with melancholy.

Your friend wakes and you go quiet. You feel like the sidekick sometimes, but it doesn’t stop you from coming. Sometimes you feel as if she doesn’t really care if you’re there at all. You keep her company as she runs her errands and listen to all her problems, and wish that she would be interested in yours too.

The dreams produced from the Major Arcana cards are quite different and I appreciate them for that. It makes me think that maybe it isn't necessary to use a full deck for my tarot dream diary, even though I really love all 78 cards in the deck. To be honest, I wish that there were more cards in the deck — a fifth suit of minors should give me something to sink my intellectual fangs into. Everyone has a fantasy regarding the tarot; that is mine. They say theMajor Arcana is the 5th suit, spirit.

Last night I had no dream. It made me wonder if my subconscious is out of messages to spit out. Truthfully, my mind has been pretty busy formulating answers to questions that are buzzing around in my head. I may take a break after the Major Arcana is done.


(01) Eight of Cups. A moment back in time, almost seven years ago. V and I are back on the bench. While he is unsuspecting, he continues a conversation that once happened between us. I can see his navy blue NORWAY jacket and his spiky hair so clearly. Touched, I take his hand and hope he won’t notice how cold my hands are. They always are. Through heavy lidded eyes and heavy heart, I muster the courage to thank him for speaking of his interest, but decline the possibility for us to date. His expression got all serious, he didn’t understand why I had changed my mind. As a girl who went through a roller coaster crush a couple of years later, I already knew whst would become of us. “I have seen what will happen to us. I’m sorry, but I don’t like the way you will treat me.” He seemed frustrated, and was then at a loss for words. To acknowledge it would mean he believed in the vision, and he was too proud for that.

Scene shift.
Then there was the other. He came to visit his aunt, but would not speak to me even though I lived across the street. He simply refused to make contact no matter how many times my gaze pushed for his. He simply looked away and would avoid any type of contact. I could see his visage peering out the window right back at me, and even though we were not in speaking terms, I always wave back. What happened between us was unfortunate, and the guilt he felt kept him from ever wanting to contact me again. You could see it in his eyes, this man was tortured. One day his little girl happened upon my house like a messenger. She dropped something off and returned real fast. It almost seemed as if she was scared of us. We smiled and waved but the would not look at us. Golden locks framed her face, she looked more like an angel than a human.

Scene shift.
There are tables strategically placed along a dark room. High ceilings, columns and cold atmosphere. Having a chat and a wonderful tine with none other than Ciro Marchetti and his wife, who had come to meet with other tarot enthusiasts. We talk about how we met online, then the subject changed to admiration for James Wanless. Promptly, we wave in his direction and smile. When I get to look around at who else is in the room, my eyes fall upon A and his fiancee. For a moment I lose my breath and latch onto the arm of my beloved, whispering that I don’t feel well. I hear him growl as he always does when he hears the name, then he discretely turns around for what is not really a discrete glare. J loathes A. “Not the Dark Priest again,” he growls.

Next thing I know I’m on the stage, hosting a swimsuit competition. A’s fiancee is actually his ex, S, dressed unconventionally but still really stunning. The girls strut their stuff on stage. It is easy to see the greedy eyes of men, how they hunger for the flesh and fantasize so openly. The surge of emotions could be felt all around the room. Ciro, James and A were gone, but the rest were taking off their clothes and chanting ominously. Couples began to form and what was once a formal event had just turned into a great orgy. I couldn’t move at all, overcome by shock and how everyone lost control of themselves. J came to my rescue, grabbing me by the arm and taking me with him. His hands which are usually hot felt more lukewarm, if not lifeless. I clung to him as shadows began to form and stretch like nets over those enjoying themselves. We got out just in time before the doors to the event were closed and locked.

(02) Nine of Cups. He was in pursuit but slow to follow. There were many distractions in the parking lot, but due to the structure of it, it was more convenient to drive upwards first, then spiral all the way back down. K and V tried to stop him, they tried to calm his rage but he wouldn’t listen. He wanted revenge and he didn’t care how he got it.

The bad part of being in an advantageous position is that if you are not attentive, you don’t see them coming. The good news is that you can set up traps and distractions to slow them down or shake them off.

In spirit of the situation, I found myself indebted to my friends for trying to save me. As things got more complicated, though, down the mountain path I ran. He was close behind now, his eyes lit with rage. With one clever illusory turnaround trick I was able to deter him. Reaching the end of the path felt more like reaching a super goal.

(03) Ten of Cups. Walking into a large plane while in good company. J and I scope out our seats and drop off our things, with some really pesky flight attendants pushing us here and there. Since I ended up at the bar, I decide to sit for a drink. I am poured some brüt from a clear bottle with gold filigree at the neck. It looks like a hybrid between a web and a plant, the design is quite elegant and whimsical. Sitting there with my glass, I marvel at how big the plane is. Our destination, — and yes, it’s hard not to guess right, — is Tokyo, Japan. A mother to a little boy comes up to strike up a conversation. She gives me life advice, all the while my eyes are in pursuit of the annoying waiters drifting from J to I as if we cared about what they were trying to push us to do. The buzz in my head was enough to drown them out, but otherwise it seemed that it was going to be a very long flight.

Change of scene.
I’m dancing at a club, wearing silver buckle boots  and shimmering stars in my hair. After taking a look around, it is very clear to me that it is the wrong kind of club to be dancing in. It doesn’t feel at all threatening, but it is quite crowded even for being daytime. The atmosphere is kept dark and dim while the strobe lights and ultra violet give off a certain kind of mood. This isn’t the perfect place to be, but I’m already here so it’ll make do. When the shift is over, it’s almost 6P.M. Time to go home.

On my way out, I run into the most malicious girl I have ever met. Let’s call her Marcia. She leans on her car with her arms crossed over her chest and smirks back at us. Naturally, the nasty comments start and the car feels too far for comfort. We don’t pick up the pace; we remain steady but start running the mouth. Real-life situations are reminded back and forth, with some insults to garnish them. The situation gets pretty heated when we’re almost at the car, but then I turn around that Mom’s not inside yet and Marcia pulled out a big syringe. Cue panic.

After getting in the car and slamming the door, I lock it and pull Mom into the car on the other side. I whisper that this isn’t the time to be slow, when suddenly Marcia comes up and starts trying to open the door. She unlocks it as if nothing, and that’s when the alarms start going off in my head.

Marcia forces the door open and grabs me, with one hand clenched around the base of my neck and the other around the syringe. She tries to stab it into the other side of my neck and the struggling starts. We are locked in a dangerous embrace that is both awkward and tiring. The hatred flares and the words begin doing the damage for us, but there is no way to break the embrace without taking a risk.

(04) Page of Cups. Floating through outer space, the endless vacuum from which all entities come. Passing by the point of creation, all the planets and life forms. It’s so peaceful, so quiet… or so it seems to be from so high up. Somewhere in the void, aliens are plotting to kidnap individuals that have been chasing them. They don’t want to be tracked down anymore so their solution is to terminate those who know about them. They speak with urgency and set out to find the trinity of unlucky ones. Back on Earth, a whole team assembles to protect the same trio from the alien attack. They employ the use of hi-tech weapons and a full team of professionals in the field. They work diligently and discretely.

Elsewhere, a proud mother croons over her infantile sun. She cradles him in her arms, and then douses him in a clear pool. The water ripples; the pool is an intense turquoise. All the while, I am just a watcher perched on a high place, just like the all-seeing eye. Nobody is conscious I am there, but I walk amongst them. I am invisible to them all. The attacks begin and I am the witness of how peace turns to war.

Change of scene.
Walking through a house with a studio in the back. I immediately recognize it as Noa’s studio from back in the day. She’s hosting a party for all her ex-alumni. She in turn is not as fresh or interested in hearing the progress of her students ever since they studied in class. She hears the stories with lack of enthusiasm. Her attention is turned to what a failure her life was after all this time she had tried so hard to advance her career.

Change of scene.
I accompanied Jean to work. He needed help with some cases so I volunteered to do it while he worked on the web site design of his company.  His supervisor comes by and places her hands on my forearm, flashing me a smile that made me feel uneasy. She engaged me in conversation as if we were lifelong friends; all the while I peered at Jean suspiciously. He looked at me as if he had no idea why she was being so imprudent, I I turned my attention back to her. She took the group to a projection room and sat J in the back. I didn’t realize until he maneuvered to sit close to me. I smiled at him but she just rolled her eyes. Then she came back to ask for favors and impose new tasks. The offer of friendship was too late, neither one of us could stand her.

(05) Knight of Cups. I spent all night under a full moon in pursuit of my weeping mother. It was like a zombie walk she was going in; she had no direction, she just went wherever her feet dragged her. The moonlight basked her in its ominous glow, she looked so much like a ghost it was scary. She cried so much that she dehydrated and fell asleep at a house I had not been to before in this neighborhood. There was hair all over the floor, and if you looked more closely, you would find waste. The place was full of filth and junk, making it hard to walk around. It was actually an important day and I needed sleep, so o made I little clearing and settled not far from where she was.

The sun shone through the windows and made me feel it was laughing at me after the type of night that I had. S came over to wait for R, as we always did back when we held meetings. While we waited, we burned him alive verbally. There was nothing nice that we had left to say, all that we remembered was the bitter taste in our mouths that the friendship with him left us. He arrived late and left us hanging for some girl who told him that she needed to talk to him. I think they were talking about his silly romantic problems. He had someone to accompany and stick up for him if things didn’t go his way; she had long black hair with thick silver streaks. Her skin was pale and her lips were cherry red, she was actually quite beautiful.

We got tired of waiting and I set out to remind him twice that he had already left us waiting long enough. I could tell by the look in his face that he didn’t care. The second time around that I went to remind him, I actually felt quite naked. His judgmental stares cracked my tough exterior. I had to brace myself to get over it.

When he finally came back, all he could talk about is that he had hopes to get back with K. He was blabbering, nothing that he said made any sense. In his incoherence we found him to be quite mad. Out of anger, I started yanking out his hair and he didn’t even notice. We got in the car and he drove us to his house, all the while o kept tearing out chunks of his hair. He was going roundabout, ignoring S’s questions and acting all arrogant. All he talked to us about was K and how much he wanted to get back with her.

Next thing I know, he closes a handcuff around my wrist and told me he stopped at the gate on purpose to get my face on camera. The cuffs branded into my left arm, the one I write with. He turned back with a smile and told me that I was going to jail. He didn’t put one around S, just me. Struck with the shock of the situation, all S could do was stare.

(06) Queen of Cups. You find yourself once more in a simpler time, amongst the noise of crowds in between classes. The halls of your school are filled with melancholy with every bulletin board you pass and every open locker that you get to peek into.

You fly over a group of people standing in groups at a basketball court. They all wear the same fleece uniform of dark shorts and light shirts. They weave into rows and emit a collective cry, such as athletes do while training. At the head is the coach, a lovely blonde with a whistle. When the class is over, she uses her free period time to sit down and write a letter. It reads thus,
“Dear Psychic,

I have been enamored with a man for quite some time now but am not yet sure he is a good match. Or rather, I want to know if he is the right match for me. I have been in love with him for some time, but have come to feel as if he’s not completely open with me. Sometimes I feel he keeps secrets from me for sake of not hurting me. When we met I felt him very open and charming, then as time rolled on and we got more serious, he started to withdraw into a shell that I could see but could not find a way to enter. It’s hard to be estranged from someone you love.

Any advice you could offer would be greatly appreciated.

Professor Claire”

With one deep heaving sigh, she sat back to look at her letter. Her mind wandered elsewhere, to the beautiful moments they shared. Her eyes fogged with melancholy, and you decided to leave and give her some privacy.

(07) King of Cups. Seventh grade, the school I transferred to for high school. I find myself sitting in the algebra classroom, looking over trinkets lost in time. They are all blue and can stand as family heirlooms, small for the most part. The bell rings and all the other students take back theirs, bit I can’t find the one that would be mine. I dismiss it when I realize the next class is there and they are all looking at me kind of funny. En route up the stairs, I bump into my senior year history teacher and we both fall into the abyss where an elevator should be. After we fall 2 stories, he latches onto the 2nd floor and lets me out. We laugh uncomfortably, brushing the fall off and shuffle to our classes.

Change of scene.
Elementary school k-4th is quite different to how I remember it. They introduce me to this girl I have met before in my dreams. She is a mixture of many tarot archetypes, and lady of the forest nearby. I follow suit and she introduces me to her brother. He tells me he wants to show me something and takes me on a hike to a place we can watch over the whole school and forest. We sit and laugh with the rays of the sun gently slapping our cheeks. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly.

Change of scene.
Standing in line. It looks as if I’m there to drop off a check or an important document. How time flies. Next to staff, I am the oldest one there. I watch the little kids and they are just that, but their mannerisms are those of adults. They are quite cute. One girl in particular has a book to take her back or forward in time, and any onlookers can take a gander into the time period she is in, as if through a magnifying glass. I wondered how she made it possible to allow onlookers, but it felt a lot like voyeurism. I saw an older form of herself with red curls and a frilly dress. She looked lovely.

When its my turn i realized he is not the same desk guy as last time i visited this place in dream. He tries to give me directions but honestly doesn’t know how. We laugh at how silly the situation is and exchange some good-natured remarks.

I have gotten used to placing a tarot card under my pillow every night. It's very nice, and it'll be even nicer to take on the big boys next. The Major Arcana cards, of course. The next 22 days are going to be interesting for sure.


Check out all of those Major Arcana cards in this week's Hello Witches! I really resonate with the cards that I pulled because they have a duality that I feel is very right for me. They are lovely and they allude to inner fire, sense of direction and enjoyment of the moment. Adversely, they can signal abuse of courage, getting lost and feeling hopeless about it. I know it's not hard to feel and I appreciate being able to see it, but would like a chance to make it

I have been warming up to the Victorian Romantic Tarot after taking the dive into its depths. It is surprising to find how much I like it and how well it reads because I couldn't understand it when I first got it. When you get a new deck you are overcome with excitement, there is a lot of electricity in the moment in which you first open it to get acquainted with the cards. Imagine my dismay when I turned them all over and found that they really didn't say much to me. It took a while to get used to the style of narration and the difference in perception of the Victorian time period. I couldn't read with it right out of the box and I couldn't draw the same connections that Karen Mahony had written about in the companion book, which happens to be an excellent read also. I was delighted when they finally started 'speaking' to me, and have taken to use them in my professional readings. They are emotive and whimsical, and I dearly love them for it. It made me happy that I kept them, rather than selling them forward or offering them in a trade. They still present a challenge when I read for myself, but I think that's part of learning to read with them.

It's possible there could be some anxiety present since the middle of the week. Honestly, I feel really overwhelmed by the schedule I have imposed on myself just because I need responsibilities to keep my mind occupied. I guess that what I crave more than anything is a rest. It must be the summer season kicking in, but I feel that I need a vacation away from my perpetual vacation. Maybe I'm just being ungrateful — maybe I've been taking the comfort for granted? I love blogging so much, but sometimes I need a break. The fate of this column has not yet been decided, as I don't really feel like terminating it or replacing it.


Monday. Ten of Cups. Emotional satisfaction, such as the one you feel when you reach a goal.

Tuesday. The Fool. New beginnings. If you take a risk, look before you jump.

Wednesday. The Moon. Intuition. Psychic energy without harness or control because it is in its most natural state.

♡ Thursday. Nine of Swords. Anxiety. Nightmares and rude awakenings that make it hard to have sound sleep. This lady is too exhausted to even sleep, but you can see her worry keeps her awake.
♡ Friday. Ten of Wands. Tired, probably from the day before. Are you taking on too much work; is it too much to handle?

Friday. Ten of Wands. Exhaustion. This happens when you take on more weight than you can carry. Are you carrying unnecessary weight for others? What can you do to minimize your responsibilities and give yourself a chance to breathe?

Saturday. Seven of Swords. An untrustworthy makes themselves present or sneaks away from responsibility. When some people want to make themselves hard to reach, they go under the radar. Perhaps they're not feeling too well, but it could be also that they just don't feel like facing responsibility.

Sunday. Knight of Coins. A gift or well-deserved moment of support. Taking it steady, day by day and being in the moment. Life is more enjoyable when you ground yourself in the moment.

What to avoid. Strength. Speaking through fury. Avoid reaching an instance in which you have to hold yourself back from saying something you feel is important. If possible, back away from difficult situations that could bring out your passion and your rage. It isn't always appropriate to speak your mind. Be calm and stand your ground instead.

What to strive for. Hermit. Quiet reflection. Carve out the path. Seek solitude when you feel lost to help you get a sense of direction.

Wishing you all a magical week!


(01) Ace of Cups.
Going back to a simpler time in a place I have been to before. This was elementary school, just before the change to high school happened. Actually, a couple of years before the school change. The buildings were open and allowed much natural sunlight in the classrooms. I remember day dreaming every day, and the teachers asking me to please not drift out the window. A sheepish smile was all I allowed because I wasn’t ever ashamed of being a dreamer. More than ten years down the line, I still smile about it.

Looking around for — you guessed it, — my beloved. As I joined him, our hands entwined and we got lost in the most loving stare. Our gaze was devoid of resentment for him getting lost, which would happen about fourteen years later. That’s two sets of seven years, and constitutes a very long time. We both knew he would get lost; we also knew of the radical changes and adventures my life would turn to after it all happened. We even knew about H, A and F. Did we care? The gaze was loving, compassionate. We absolutely did not care.

Suddenly we are driving through memory, and it’s just us two in the car but we haven’t realized we’re not old enough to drive yet. We are laughing, just as we always do when we play some Lady Gaga, IAMX or Blutengel. The day is ours, and in our lovers rapture, we could do as we please.

We’re back in school. It could be the day after. Mom is there, accompanied by a man I know I have not met. He seems friendly but I don’t trust him, so I stay away. When he catches me by myself in the second floor, he corners me and cuts my hand. The wound doesn’t bleed at all, and by the time my beloved and my Mom get there, my entire world is spinning. The floor spins, I lose touch of reality and before I know it my mouth opens and I start to purge. When did I ever turn into a fountain? The substance is grey and smokey, and most likely covered the whole floor.

(02) Two of Cups. Swimming towards a buoy in a massive lake… or is it the sea? It’s endless, I can’t see real land in any direction save for this floating device. Climbing onto it, I notice that it’s all red. Red for passion, red for anger. Looking back out, all I see is blue in the sky and blue in the churning sea. No earth, no land. Must be around 4 P.M. I think about putting an end to “whatever this is” and I cut off the cable to the light bulb. It dies out.

Somewhere in the vacuum of dreams, something else happened but my mind fails to collect it. I know it happened, I just can’t remember where I was or exactly who I was with. There was somebody else there, but my mind represses it. Was it Mom? Was it my beloved? Was it someone I have ever met in person? Consciousness dissolves the messages as if they were not for us in the first place. I know there was someone there.

It’s all coming back to me now. I see her face, fair, framed with dark eyebrows. Her hair flowed in abundant curls, but she had cut them off. Anjanette, my dear Anjanette… not so dear anymore.

We couldn’t avoid each other fast enough, but there she was. Fair, slender and still jaded. She looked at me through piercing eyes, but we had our moment somewhere in a public place. It looked like a mall, one familiar but not quite known. Spliced between Puerto Rico and Sarasota, the places that killed our mutual love. There she was, we shared a moment we will share no more.

(03) Three of Cups. Somewhere between reality and fantasy lies an auditorium full of people. The rumble of the ground creeps into the land, reverberating into the core of the Earth.

There he stood amongst the crowd staring back at me. I could not mistake the gaze of those blue eyes and how stricken it was with melancholy, whereas it was only met by confusion. After turning to descend the steps to look for my beloved — as usual, — I find myself face to face with the stranger. I haven’t met him before I don’t think, not in dreams and certainly not in reality. He mouthed, “my name is Cole.”

I walked closer and waved, but found him nearly motionless save for the quivering of his soul. He had tears welling in his eyes as if he has seen a ghost. The melancholy he radiated was heavy, bothersome in fact. He seemed desperate to get his message out, but words failed him and he stood there instead. The cheers of the hungry crowd roared on, unaware of the moment shared between what felt like two before entwined souls that had lost one another.

As I walked past, I felt the cold wave that pressed down upon him affecting me, and I smiled to him. It was a reassuring smile that everything will be okay even if I couldn’t tell what was wrong.

“It would have been polite to ask him,” was the only thing I could think of when I woke up today.

(04) Four of Cups. 9th grade art class once more? There I was, there she was once more with her dark curls and round eyes. Anjanette. We didn’t speak all the while. Instead i focused on my work, the things that i really needed to do. That was much more important. The bell rang and I walked to the lockers. Once more familiar, but I couldn’t find my own so I walked past them without a care.

Who takes a Math test in English class? Meanwhile there was another teacher the to distract us. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. The bell rang and I went to History class, which was much less friendly. As I went down the stairs, I reminded myself to enjoy this because it would not be forever. I am not always going to be reliving sweet melancholy.

I found Anjanette once more, sitting at the other end of the room. I sat on the second chair after my first seat was taken and listened to a girl argue with her teacher in German. Apparently she was an overachiever and she wanted extra work, while the teacher assured her it wouldn’t be necessary. No one else seemed to care. Truth, none of the three classes I just took were friendly and I certainly didn’t enjoy them, but they are always my best subjects.

When school was out, I walked through the halls and they were all still intact in my memory. Every detail, every shadow, every dream-locked locker. Nothing has changed since last time I dreamed of school.

(05) Five of Cups.
Where is this city? It has a Moroccan feel. There are drapes everywhere. Pick up the pace, there is a strange man in pursuit; his motives don’t look at all friendly. Walking round the corner, breaking into a sprint or a run won’t make much of a difference, what will is putting some distance between us. Jumping out the back, through gates and hidden alleyways is the only form of escape. Soon the only alternative is to turn around and face him. When that happens, hands come out of nowhere. The scene shifts and there are Russian spies all over the place. Their leader is a sleek man in a suit; come to think of it, they’re all in suits. They all reek of danger.

When they release their prisoner, the excitement doesn’t last very long. They are ambushed by a rain of bullets, after which the scene dissolves.

(06) Six of Cups.
Traveling back to simpler times, I find myself in high school with J. Impossible, but well… So is the language of dreams. We both wanted to go to lunch together, but I didn’t make it out of class in time so I went to my locker and was surprised to find him there with his things. The cafeteria had a super long line, it seemed silly to wait for it. He was in a terrible mood so I let him go off on his own. Instead I walked to the front of the school, where I saw a boy from the adjacent school had left his girlfriend a cute gift. He put treats into clear balloons and called it Gia’s Great Powerball, simulating the lottery. I thought it was quite cute, and I waited a while to see her reaction but she never came. J did instead. We held hands for a while, locking them as if they were the very bond between our souls.

Speeding through the streets with Dad. They seem futuristic and whimsical, but still have the essential look of the streets of Puerto Rico. I get to a dock but there is no one there, then J comes out to meet us. J and I both get in different ships, his zooms off impossibly fast, whereas mine drags itself impossibly slow. When we make it out the other side, my luggage never makes it. I thought it would, but nothing is in place or seems impossibly big. I finally find the one I think it is, but when I open it, I realize it belongs to a dog owner.

(07) Seven of Cups.
Words of wisdom were amicably whispered, but I failed to catch from who or why. Come to think of it, I can’t even remember what was being said, or how it’s supposed to help. It could have been a voice from beyond or my conscience trying to usher me through the darkness, but I have no idea what it was. The night was dark and full of danger, couldn’t really tell who is friend and who is foe. The moon would say nothing to aid with this dilemma.

A band plays inside a cute Spanish-influenced house. There is really no crowd, just me standing there. It doesn’t take long to realize that band is KoRn, but I can’t tell which song it is they’re performing. Jonathan Davis is killin’ it, but I’m not really feeling the vibe. A feeling of confusion washes over me, none of these disjointed messages make any sense. What am I doing here? How did I get here?

Dreams can be quite difficult to stomach sometimes. Some of the messages I have received feel like they come from the subconscious. I have seen fears and dreams projected in them, which makes them completely personal. Sometimes I think they are uninteresting to others because of how personalized they are. I am surprised by how consistent the themes are, and wonder how much that will change when I pass to another deck of cards. It will be interesting to condense the predominant symbols of the dreams into a list. I'm thinking of a few things to add to this, which should be interesting to read through... at least I hope so.

If anybody is also logging their dreams, I'd be happy to read any that they want to share as well.


(01) Wednesday. Eight of Coins.
I’ve been here before, but it looks different. Everything always looks different; everything always changes. Why do I come back here so often? Is it the place or is it what I do here? All these questions I ask myself, but I’m neither here nor there. I’m traveling from one dream into another, and for a moment consciousness touches the surface of being awake.

I’m back at school but this time it’s college. Same buildings as before, but set in another town. As I walk, I see people that are no longer alive. We wave and smile, but I keep walking. I didn’t really have time to stop and talk to them even though I would very much have liked to. The destination is the computer laboratory, but the walk takes much longer than usual to get there. I’m walking along the same square, but I’m not making much progress.

The sun is setting over the school grounds, which are more arid than I remember. The college greens used to be bountiful, but now they seem a little dried up.

The scene twists and turns like an M.C. Escher painting. Down is now up, right is now left, things go up side down only to go back up again. It doesn’t feel any different to be standing on vertical ground.

(02) Thursday. Nine of Coins. Strung along the darkness, floating through the void like an underwater reverie. Floating through time, going through space. It is all there at the same time, but you cannot reach. Still the images and settings pass you by, even though you are moving and passing by them as well. Briefly you float through simpler times. Through school, sunlit grounds and quiet forests illuminated by the moon.

While in this reverie, feelings of gratitude wash over you. You have everything that you could ever want and should be thankful. You have never lacked anything before and will not again if you are cautious.

The faces of your loved ones shine in the darkness, one by one they illuminate it with their radiance. And what of your light? Surely you have it, but it isn’t shining as brightly as theirs. In reaching out to touch the ones responsible for your joy and happiness, you wake up to a new reality.

(03) Friday. Ten of Coins. Write the tarot cards down: Death + Justice, rang a voice loud and clear. It was devoid of gender but still quite clear.

Brought to a multilayer building dimly lit and of transient feel. A nice hotel, perhaps. There were people dressed up in Japanese fashion and costumes. It didn’t feel at all safe. My beloved and I were fighting, — as usual now in dreams, — as a result, he spent the night by himself. I did the same. There was a parade of people in color according to their aura. They went from the reds through to the oranges, yellows, greens, blues and purples. It was impressive, looked like organic fire. So many lights, so much color. I could recognize my neighbors in the parade, with stiff faces. They looked like drones.

The party is over late and we find our way back to each other. Going down the stairs, we realize that there is something wrong in the parking lot. People are driving faster than is normal. Two magic schoolgirls pull out a gun in the shape of a matte black cross. Well, an assortment of crosses. It looks nothing like a gun to me until I realize they are trying to shoot the person in the car in front of them. Then their eyes fall on us watching the scene and they change their mind.

We end up with guns in our faces. My love has a showdown with one of them; if he loses I get shot too. The magicians seem confident.

Change of scenery.
I am in another world and things are much better with my beloved. He works at a high intel research lab and I just happen to be there, visiting him during lunch hour. I can see everyones essence. Their auras.

There is a high class operation to steal their secret work. We were outnumbered by them because they are many. They take on different visages and leave us quite dumbfounded, just as magicians can. They were gone within seconds.

The next day they present us with an innovation; a newborn with an impossibly extendable arm. We marvel at the realization of what this could mean for science, then fear washes over us when we realize its also a threat because they have access to everything and we don’t know who they are.

In the long hours of the afternoon, we walk through the grounds to go back home. A majestic white tiger watches the setting sun at the end of the day. Elsewhere, a swan joins the water to be refreshed. It closes its eyes and becomes one with the water, then sleeps. It is a divine manifestation of another time in another place.

(04) Saturday. Page of Coins. Standing at the airport. Its been a while but I pass right through. Its going to be a long trip, I can tell.

On the plane to Japan. This one has windows that open in the early hours of the dawn when it isn’t in movement. My eyes opened to get a look as the windows close, then we’re off.  It’s a smooth ride, all of the passengers are asleep… if there are any real passengers. The layover is to a place I have been to before that I already know does not exist. It’s a tropical island somewhere between fantasy and Asia. There are rundown national landmarks here of a micro scale; the Eiffel Tower, Statue of Liberty, The Hagia Sophia. They’re rusting, they look so aged. Its safe to say they look like ruins. No one lives here on this island, it is always deserted and peaceful safe for layover flights. Last time I didn’t stop here, but this time I got the pleasure of exploring. It’s funny how the subconscious holds onto details like that. The sun is setting and the colors are wild; reds, yellows and orange streaks… reminiscent of a day in Greece. Feelinh the breeze on my skin, looking around and enjoy the limbo. That’s what this place is; limbo.

Japan is perfect. The city still runs by itself, everything works without second thought. The visit feels so short that it could be reduced to just the weekend, but even a temporary getaway is nice. There is a park in Shiodome I always enjoy strolling by, it is just a block away from my hotel. When I ride the YR Yamanote and smile as you pass by 田町, I think about 2010. I think about how much things have changed since then, how the Lost Boy found his way back into my life and managed to stay. I can’t wait to get back to rejoin the embrace of my lover. To get lost in his arms.

The reunion is sweet. There is so much desire for one another and it just seems to radiate back and forth like an unseen bond.  There is no safer place than a lover’s embrace. We resonate together in a beautiful union.

(05) Sunday. Knight of Coins. In the sterile environment of the hospital, you can see your relatives both live and dead standing in a room as one big community of love. The mood is terribly somber. You realize that you are on a stretch bed and you are the one they’re all concerned about. The surgeon comes in and you recognize him. He’s the one who worked on your other relatives. They filed out slowly with good wishes and plans for after recovery, but your reaction isn’t so positive. You are in anguish, in pain.

Some nurses come in as the rest of them are still on their way out and shave off an area on the crown of your head. As they do, it feels like a major blow to your identity and your ego. You are stripped of it all.

The doctor works diligently. He is deep in the core, somewhere between the banks of all your precious lifelong memories. Somewhere in there is the reminder of a really bomb math test still in blank from fifth grade. With one cut from his scissors, everything starts to go white. There is a familiar ring sounding off. It’s not the angel sounding off the start of Judgment day, but for you it could be. Everything curtains out to white in your memory. With one last exhale, you are freed from your body and released to a new world. The last image of your head is of your Mom welcoming you to her arms. You thought you came home.

(06) Monday. Queen of Coins. Black marble walls and tall ceilings frame the scene of this beautiful hotel I have been to before. For the  second night in a row I dreamed of Japan. This time around I was accompanied by The Sweet One, a boy I met by chance in real life as I sat on a bench to wait for The Lost One. When he smiled, his whole face lit up. We were sitting close, murmuring in one another’s ears as if we didn’t want the rest of the world to know our secrets. It was a sweet time with a sweet person. His fingers touched my face lovingly, then followed with pressed lips where the fingers had touched.

So much beauty everywhere, Hotel Villa Fontaine seemed to sparkle this time around. It was infused with characteristics from its neighbor, the Conrad Tokyo. It seemed they had joined forces to make the meta hotel. It was grand.

Beauty seems to be the precedent theme. It was of utmost importance to get your hair and make-up done just in time for festivities. Everything sparkled, everything shined.

We were presented with a large coin to pin on out fronts. It had some motifs that came from the center. It was not so hard to feel like a queen at a moment like this. We all got swept into the dream, but it was a lovely dream.

(07)Tuesday. King of Coins. By the moon something has gone terribly wrong. Accompanied by two others, there is a chase that is steady but bothersome to the mind. Anxiety levels are high to think of going through familiar houses to escape the one(s) in pursuit. A deal of tricks are employed to stop or slow them down, but this isn’t a movie. This is real life. Zombie apocalypse? Superhuman oppressors? They were so clear in the dream, but now I remember nothing other than being in danger.

What or who am I running from? I can’t even tell. The numbers of those in pursuit rise by morning, and I find myself in the one true place that I call safe: Grandma’s house. I last saw my beloved sometime around crazy in the morning when he locked a door but forgot I had still not crossed it. What became of him? I’m not sure. What he did counts as betrayal, but when you are scrambling, your mind doesn’t really — I’m just making excuses for him. He did it and there is no excuse. He locked the door and he knew I would get set back.

Hiding in this house with the family seemed safe until the ones chasing tried to find their way in. The only way to make them stop was to make them sleep forever, but doing that required getting close to them and was a risk. A big risk considering they left innocent objects masking a bomb inside them. We caught them all and managed to throw them back out before they blew up. Dad and I teamed up to get rid of them all. When he messed up, he had me to back him out. When I messed up, it wasn’t by much. We worked fast and diligently, but the need to work faster pressed on as we made our way through our makeshift fortress.

Under the jealous gaze of the vain sun, we rolled over once we got rid of the last bomb and the last captor. I remember rolling over in exhaustion and laughing both out of relief and of being nervous.

The uncertainty washed off as we heard no more coming, but the question really is… what just happened?

This past week was intense in terms of dreams. I hope you are enjoying them as much as I am!