This blog unpacks why dreaming about houses isn’t about architecture—it’s about you. Every leaky faucet, overstuffed attic, and haunted hallway represents a piece of your emotional, mental, or spiritual life asking for attention. We walk room by room through the dreamhouse, decoding every floorboard, broken appliance, and closet full of skeletons. By the end, readers realize they aren’t just dreaming inside a house—they’re dreaming as the house itself.

This is me decoding five dreams I had in one night that didn’t whisper spiritual lessons—they screamed them, lit them on fire, and threw them off a bridge. A man landed from the sky carrying a volcano like it was a yoga mat. A goggled worker version of me waved twice because apparently once wasn’t enough. My old selves tried to audition their way to approval and face-planted into the emotional river. And then there was a blue painting of me looking holy, fragmented, and very done with pretending.

This blog is a full decode of what vehicles mean in dreams—from crashed sedans to missing motorcycles to soul-shattering plane layovers. It dives deep into the emotional, spiritual, and ancestral messages behind every form of movement (or lack thereof) in your sleeping mind. Each symbol reveals how your subconscious is navigating identity, control, resistance, or expansion. Whether you’re flying, breaking down, or stuck in someone else’s story—your dream vehicle is asking: Who’s really driving this thing?

This post is a deep dive into the dream meaning of all things water—rivers, rain, tsunamis, leaky faucets, and everything in between. Water dreams speak the language of emotion, memory, and transformation. Whether the water is still, crashing, or dripping, it’s always trying to move something sacred through you. This guide helps readers decode the emotional layers beneath their most soaked subconscious symbols.

This dream captures a brutal moment in the motel era—when Sarlon was rebuilding his soul hydration while dodging guilt traps, generational shame, and the performance demands of survival culture. From refilling a camel pack to watching a kid get handed a humiliating quarter, the dream unpacks what it means to refuse the role, break cycles, and stop performing for systems that never fed you. Through layered symbols like DJ gigs, bungee tightropes, and parental guilt, this blog decodes the sacred moment where survival shifts into sovereignty. It’s not about falling—it’s about refusing to jump for applause. And sometimes, the real revolution is staying grounded.

In this second dream entry, Sarlon arrives in a gold sedan, only to lose it in a strange neighborhood while trying to follow others to a beach. The dream dissects identity loss, the illusion of safety, and the spiritual cost of chasing systems that were never built to hold you. It unpacks the painful realization that your “life vehicle” was parked in someone else’s driveway—and how losing it was actually the beginning of freedom. With razor-sharp layers of symbolic analysis and mythic initiation, this post is for anyone who’s ever felt ghosted by the very life they tried to build. Includes a psychological breakdown, sacred salvage, and a soul-whisper back to the self that survived.

This blog decodes a powerful dream fragment featuring a blue cop car, the number 905, and a white and grey cat. Through symbolism and emotional insight, Loui breaks down how the dream speaks to the end of self-policing, the rise of clarity, and the return to wild truth. The dream reveals a threshold moment: where the old rules no longer hold, and the inner feral guide is ready to lead. The blog includes a ritual called Follow the Feral and a sacred blessing for anyone tired of performing emotional obedience. It's a reminder that silence isn't strength—and following your softness is a revolutionary act.

This is a dream journal and confession from a night filled with powerful symbols: a future self, rainbow megaphone, frogs, a penguin, a sacred painting, and a stranger with a stroller. Each dream image held emotional truths about parenting, trauma healing, nervous system survival, and reclaiming personal presence. Through each flash, I realized I wasn’t just dreaming—I was remembering how to stay. This is the story of learning how to be the one who doesn’t disappear. The one who stays in the yard—even when it gets hard.

This is the first post in a 9-part dream decoding series, pulling apart Sarlon White’s real survival dreams from one of the hardest times of his life.
Through eviction, pregnancy, back pain, and collapse, his dreams turned into survival maps — and we’re digging them up, one by one.
This entry breaks down the first dream: a hill, a knife fight, ghost friends, and a brutal fight to stay alive without losing your soul.
If you’ve ever felt like you were fighting just to exist, this series is your mirror.
We’re not here to survive pretty — we’re here to survive real.