This started out as a dream.

"Even if they say see it, they don't see it."

That's one thing my husband said during our conversation about my dream. Well, it started off as "about my dream," then progressed to "A Bigger Picture."

"They didn't see fairies, or the Virgin Mary. They saw the projections."

Usually in our culture people get very bored when you say you're going to tell them your dream. We don't want to hear it. Boring. I don't feel that way; I enjoy dreams. Mine, of course, and listening to the dreams of others (if I know them). I don't listen to them for insight. It's a process, the journey, it's like listening to Beat poetry, reading magical realism, or looking at abstract art. It makes often makes sense on some level, even while we can't articulate why. Other times it doesn't make any sense, or even if it does it doesn't seem to have any meaning. Or the meaning is very particular to whom it reveals itself to. Even so, even without the meaning, it's still an interesting experience for its own sake.

"Couldn't be she didn't get enough sleep" he thought to himself after he tried to wake me up. I did get enough sleep. A bit more than usual. But as they say, it's the quality, not the quantity.

"It's sort of like Harvey." " And, "Who was crazy? Did Harvey really exist?"

A pause. "Don't you think at the end of the movie that Harvey really did exist?"

Yes. Maybe it's because, as my husband said, we want to believe that Harvey existed. Maybe. Maybe it's because it's the power of the story, and the way it was told; the magic of the story, the sincerity of its presentation.

Or maybe it's simply because they said he did. There he is, invisible, but seen; we know he's there. We don't have to see him to see him.

Then: "Don't you think there are two kinds of debunkers?"

Yes, I do. And I had to say to him "Okay, you have to stop talking now. "

Amused and hurt (not really) he said "First you wanted me to talk, now you don't."

I said "Well you started talking bout Invisible Aliens, then Harvey, now it's debunkers."

He said "Debunkers have to do with the Invisible Aliens. There are two kinds of debunkers; those that don't see it, they really don't see the Invisible Aliens, so they attack. Then there are the debunkers who know damn well there are Invisible Aliens, and don't want us to know. They also love the fact there are others out there who take up the gauntlet, who do their work for free."

Then he said "It's the Trickster at work."

What does any of this have to do with a dream, and, do we care? You might be asking at this point. All of the above comments were made in response to my Invisible Alien dream.

Last night I had a creepy awful dream that woke me up, and I was scared, and I didn't want to go back to sleep, but somehow I did. When I woke up this morning, it was awful. I wake up with difficulty, the dream not leaving even as I'm awake. This morning he had to call me a couple of times, and it took me awhile to get out of bed, and I had a hell of a time waking up, even after I was up.

So I dreamt we're in this lovely place, a large pastoral place, a park, an estate, a city of a sorts but very pleasant and open. Trees and water, soft hills. And Invisible Aliens. Aliens from space. Aliens that were nasty bastards, full of evil intent. They enjoy hurting us. They are invisible, which means of course, we couldn't see them. But in typical dream logic, it made sense we knew exactly what they looked like. Seven feet tall, very "the grays" like, but heavier, more substantial. Not the skinny, brittle things we're used to.

A third of the population (us included) were very well aware of them. We know all about them. The rest of society; they're oblivious.

These Invisible Aliens could manipulate the weather, and forces of nature. And they did. With glee. Things started happening around us; hurricanes, floods, weird things to the environment, and everyone, the one third of the population, and the rest of us, were running, screaming, hiding, angry but inept, and generally freaking out.

Those of us, the one third of us who knew about these invisible bastards, decided we had nothing left to lose, and so outing them for all it was worth was something we had do do. And we did. Which really angered these nasty invisible things. They didn't like this at all.

So they went after us, with murder on their minds. (No matter the earth was opening before us, and floods were washing over us, dream logic dictates they had to try to kill us with daggers and strangulation.) So we ran, and were in Big Alien Trouble.

Then I woke up, and felt awful, and scared, and tired to go back to sleep, and finally did. Until I was awakened from my coma like deep sleep this morning.

Harvey has something to do with this too. I have a still from the movie Harvey for my icon here on BoA, along with a quote from the movies:

"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it." ~ 'Harvey,' 1950

And my father played Harvey in a local theater production many, many years ago. ( . . .and the theater was two "blocks" away, in the tiny California mountain town where we lived, from the house we lived in where I had dreams of dark violet robed priests suffocating me with thick incense, smothering me with ever louder Latin chants, waking up frightened, and choking. And found out this little cottage of a house was the priests house who worked the Catholic Church, also two "blocks" away or so. The little house where he hung himself.)

Invisible Aliens and invisible rabbits. One are nasty, devious bastards. The other, a delightful and helpful creature. And, as my husband just commented, "Harvey wasn't a rabbit, he was a Pooka."

UFOs, Forteana, the paranormal, are nothing if not duplicitous. The seen and the unseen. Visible and invisible. Known and unknown. Binary oppositions, tensions, a constant balancing act between the two.

Some of us know this. Aome of us are unaware. Some of know this, but try their damnedest to suppress it, like the Invisible Aliens.

That's the way it goes here in The Trickster's Realm.