Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 27, 2018. Sunday.



Typical RAS modulation autosymbolism was going strong in this non-lucid dream but still did not activate the waking process, so I slept a couple hours longer than I usually do (even though Zsuzsanna and our children were up and in the lounge room with the television on at one point). If I cannot rely on RAS to wake me at a certain time with unique dream content (which is what a dream’s autosymbolism is inherently for) at the top of an ultradian rhythm, then I consider that very unusual.

In the first part of my dream, the setting is a unique new variation of the King Street mansion, the second-floor apartment in the middle of the east side of the house. My non-lucid dream self does not care that it is an impossible setting. I happily sit around on the floor for awhile listening to bizarre fictitious music (on a record player yet) where the lyrics make no sense at all. The “music” seems to have rock elements, but the male vocals are mostly randomly spoken phrases. I hear the audience cheering, so it must be a live recording. At one point, he chants slowly but loudly and clearly, “Yellow bathroom”. (This is a biological hint to my dream self, but I do not feel the need to use the bathroom in my dream.)

I notice my curtains are open, and I see an unfamiliar male lying on his left side on a ledge, in his underwear, enjoying the wind and smiling. It seems to be late morning. Apparently, he is enjoying the music I am playing. (Of course, this is a liminal projection of how my real physical body is as I sleep.) I am annoyed that neighbors can see in, so I attempt to close the curtain. (In reality, this scene could not be possible either, as the windows had only a view of the front of the house across the street, so there was no side of a house right near the King Street house, though what does my non-lucid dream self care, from a lack of any viable connection with either the unconscious mind or my conscious self.)

I hear an unfamiliar girl’s voice yelling about my music, and their music is turned on more loudly, even though the male was enjoying my music. (I did not think my music was loud at all.) A different male argues with her and there is yelling for a short time. I go into a different room and I am now in the lounge room of the Stadcor Street house (which only has the first floor) with Zsuzsanna. Now, the events are shifted to the first floor in the house next door as well (and as usual my dream self does not notice the impossible change). I mention something to Zsuzsanna about the music and an unfamiliar male, who can see into our house through our window from his window, loudly says, “You think you can beat me?” I reply by yelling, “Why don’t you leave us alone?” I then yell at no one in particular, “I’m tired of crazy people always living next door to us!”

I go out to the front yard and bash several unfamiliar males on the head with my Olympic barbel (no weights) and swing it around like a baseball bat until no one else is standing or moving. My dream shifts into reinduction rather than the waking process during the RAS modulation event and I now find myself riding in a skiff tied to the back of a small motor yacht. Curiously, I do not recognize this scene for what it is and no lucidity is triggered, only an elevated vividness. I am now a female (of about twenty-five), though not a female I have any conscious knowledge of. A man tells me to tie an additional length of rope from my boat to the back of his motor yacht (as the previous one had apparently came off and I am now drifting over the ocean). I somehow do this even though the distance would not logically allow it. I throw the rope and pull it lightly, but a large knot seems to make itself with no effort on my part (to my left; reinduction orientation and stabilizing). “That’s a good knot,” says the unfamiliar captain from the other boat. A few other unfamiliar people look on.

After a time, I am “myself” (though only about twenty-five) and another (unfamiliar) male is sitting to my right. We are still on a skiff on the ocean, but there is no other boat now. We go through an ambiguous area where it seems I am inside a house for a short distance even though we are also on the ocean. I notice many large sharks swimming below us. The water is unrealistically clear. I am wondering if there is any danger, though I do not feel concerned. The other male denies there is any danger and tells me how sharks only eat things that are at its own level in the water. I do not feel any fear, more like cheerfulness (almost comedic) even though there seem to be hundreds of sharks below us.

Soon, the scene shifts and I am walking with the same male and an unfamiliar female. We are in an unfamiliar town near mostly commercial buildings. After we walk a short distance, the male vanishes. We look back to see someone running in the distance. Suddenly, I am aware that we will be blamed for the kidnapping of the male that vanished. We are carrying small plastic bags. We stop to look inside them. The girl’s bag has the ID of the male that vanished. I know that the police will be here soon and that we are being framed by an unknown person. I take the ID and throw it behind a soda vending machine thinking it will not be found and that I am being careful and intelligent in my action.

The police arrive and I am still holding one of the small plastic bags. The scene somehow shifts to where I am in a police station (though of more of a restaurant appearance). The police officer is looking at the supposedly kidnapped man’s credit card (made of cardboard), a large sparse clump of hair, and some other items. The officers do not seem to think I had anything to do with anything, but I still tell them we were framed. (The girl is soon no longer present.) “Can you take fingerprints from plastic bags?” I ask. I say, “I know my fingerprints are on them, but they will probably also have the fingerprints of the kidnapper.”

“Can you take fingerprints from hair,” I ask. “Can you take prints from paper?” A police officer at a counter looks at me as if he is wondering why I am still here. Two other officers look at me annoyingly as well. They are not interested in me at all. I decide to finally leave my dream (in a liminal state, as I am not viably lucid until the last moments) and finally wake as I step through the door. (This last part is quite odd. I am liminally trying to force RAS modulation by way of my conscious self, but nothing happens, probably because the process is often transpersonal in origin in its natural form. On one level, something similar occurred recently, where I learned I was not in trouble for “killing” an unknown male, though my dream self had the opposite focus as to this one and I did not seem to be as fully modulating it myself.)

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Night of March 27, 2018. Tuesday.



As I enter the usual water induction stage, seeing the glimmer of the surface of the virtual water, the essence of sleep, the absence of emotion, the physical release of muscle tension, I notice the setting seems to be near sunset, though there is enough light to see by. It is a beautiful scene of a river. I am not yet “in” my dream, as I have not decided whether to enter here or wait for the next scene to render.

Still, I mentally say “boat” and nothing more, and my voice sounds much younger in my head.

I suddenly find myself standing near the bow of a skiff, moving slowly along. I notice a number of cypress knees ahead (which represent dynamics of my muscles that are not fully relaxed), though they do not pose any sort of threat or challenge. (Who wants to be “challenged” in the dream state anyway? - RAS modulation would come soon enough.) It is a beautiful and peaceful scene. In fact, I decide to let my lucidity go at this time and allow myself to enter deeper into sleep.

Throughout my life, I have read a number of articles about lucid dreaming, none of which have made any sense to me, but then, most of what is written about dreams makes little or no sense at all, and I have focused on the nature of my dreams all my life (and it not only has never been problematic, but I married my literal dream girl, my dreams having given me hundreds of specific clues about her identity, which proved to be correct, and some dreams have healed me in ways which no one would believe).

Many such articles imply how a person “practices” or attempts to lucid dream. This makes no sense to me, as since earliest memory, it was a natural state of which I did not have to practice or try to do (though I sometimes “set up” dreams, but I have mostly gotten to where I do not even need to do that due to the nature of in-dream auto-scripting). The summoning factor also exists in liminal dream control (dream control without lucidity). This is when the conscious self is aware of the dream state without the dream self being viably lucid (a specific type of synaptic gating), though still commanding the dream’s content at some points, even the RAS mediation of the waking transition to a certain extent (though biological factors and subliminal environmental concerns such as an unknown noise always take priority).

Apparently, some people ask themselves on and off all day if they are dreaming, which supposedly helps them to recognize when they are dreaming, though in my view would likely corrupt the function of RAS mediation and modulation (reticular activating system), arguably one of the most important parts of the brain, so why tamper with its very purpose? This is something I have never done or needed to (though reading nonsense in so-called dream dictionaries or dream interpretation books causes me to wonder what is going on with people in the world, and I joked about this on Twitter recently). The practice does not even make any sense as this is neither how auto-scripting nor autosymbolism works (or even subliminal conscious identity for that matter) in the dream state itself.

Conducting “reality tests”, including continuously asking myself if I am dreaming, as the personified subconscious is not the conscious self, makes zero sense. Additionally, dreams are not usually symbolic of waking life as many people claim; they are autosymbolic renderings of concurrent unconsciousness thought processes, for example, if one has to go to the bathroom now, or check the source of a noise now, it is happening now, not eight hours earlier but now, yet for some reason many people cannot seem to grasp this simple idea at all. They take a biological waking alert factor (RAS modulation) like a snake and try to pretend it has waking life relevance (which would only be true in rare cases, such as literal prescience or a literal residual carryover). This is not what such REM thought processes were created for. They are not “recordings” or even viable (active) memories (which also is why regressive hypnosis was exposed as a total misconception years ago).

Fully understanding autosymbolism and the nature of the dream state is enough to sustain apex lucidity on thought alone. The one and only factor of the dream state is RAS mediation, not “subconscious this” or “subconscious that”.

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Morning of January 27, 2018. Saturday.



The usual water induction begins, but I lose my main threads of lucidity (which is often deliberate, as I often prefer what non-lucid dreams can render as a learning experience, and additionally, lucidity often randomly returns later in the sleep cycle anyway), though my dream remains very vivid. I find myself at our present address after the usual forest lakes and river scenes.

The surfaces of the streets are replaced by water (lifelong recurring feature) but there is no association with flooding or seeing it as an unusual or “wrong” feature. It seems to be about nine o’clock at night.

Apparently, we had ordered pizza, though there only seems to be one pizza when the boat arrives and the deliverer, a young unfamiliar male, bends down to hand it to me. For some reason, there is no payment made.

The unknown young male has slight difficulty in backing up from the curb in front of our house. I cheerfully advise him, “Don’t bang into the sign.” (This is in reference to the “GIVE WAY” sign that, due to recent street widening, is fairly close to the middle of the street now, near the intersection.) He shows no emotion and continues to back out. There is a loud but very pleasant jingling sound, which has something to do with the movement of the boat, though this event does not really make much sense unless there is a large set of wind chimes somewhere on the boat. (It is almost as if the sound is coming from elsewhere regardless of the association.)

Later, with the implication of time passing or changing, it now seems to be afternoon. I see young males riding ATVs down the street (east) and performing tricks, and I feel somewhat annoyed by their antics. The surface of the street, at least closer to the curb, is now mainly mud.

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We have not had pizza from a takeout restaurant since we got very ill from severe food poisoning (our oldest son being hospitalized for about a week). Even so, we did not have pizza delivered here, as the places were just down the street.

The presence of water or water rising (which symbolizes sleep) is autosymbolism for entering the dream state, while water lowering over time, or being replaced by mud or some other feature (or no longer being present at all) is autosymbolism for leaving the dream state. This has been the case on a day-to-day basis since early childhood, for over fifty years.

The jingling association is based on chimes (which I often bump into) being near the bathroom door. The area near the curb was actually muddy in real life recently. They had put in a corner section with a ramp, but no other part of a sidewalk has been added in weeks.

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Morning of December 13, 2017. Wednesday.



My beautiful wife Zsuzsanna and I are sitting together on a wooden bench at the end of the Shorncliffe Pier (formerly known as Sandgate Pier), looking northeast towards the ocean’s horizon. The time of day is uncertain, but it seems to be late morning in the final stage of my dream.

We are under the shelter at a later point, undressed, and being intimate. My semi-lucidity (partial awareness of being in the dream state) results in a lack of concern about several unknown members of the public, both male and female, being present, but not paying that much attention to us.

Later, we are closer to the shoreline (now about ten feet out on the pier). I observe what I first assume to be six North Korean males (perhaps in their thirties), waist-deep in the water. As they are walking towards the beach, they are guiding, in pallbearer formation, a damaged half-submerged wooden boat; a shellback dinghy; with a visible jagged hole in the side facing us. I am somewhat wary of their presence, but only for a short time. They gaze at us as if very annoyed.

Looking back again, I come to realize (though this was an actual transformation, not a presumed error in my original discernment) that they are Australian SES (State Emergency Service) volunteers. They are not looking in our direction now and their emotions seem informally neutral.

The water is lower, revealing a number of large stones. Zsuzsanna goes to look for some plastic toys between them that are still muddy from the storm (emergent real-life association, unrelated to my dream’s backstory), and to wash them, and I slowly realize we are now in our house, though our porch is erroneously perceived as being a rock pool (ambiguously perceived as being indoors and outdoors at the same time). I then wake.

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• Dream self mode: Corporeal with enhanced physicality
• Conscious self identity: Viable (although we have not been to Shorncliffe in real life in years), although perceiving myself as perhaps 30 rather than 56
• Induction symbolism: Water as symbolizing sleep
• Induction buffer: Shorncliffe Pier over ocean
• Dream state indicators: Being undressed and fully intimate in public (first-level dream sign, based on the subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, though I am semi-lucid here)
• RAS mediation symbol: Presumed North Koreans, seemingly defeated but presumed unpredictable
• Vestibular system symbol: Outer edge of Shorncliffe Pier
• Preconscious symbol: (Personified) Presumed North Koreans (precursory; transmuted by way of semi-lucidity in acknowledgment of waking being a biological necessity; preconscious does not initiate conflict when dream self recognizes or triggers waking symbolism or circadian rhythms factors)
• Emergent consciousness symbol: Boat leaving water
• Interconsciousness symbol: Australian SES workers
• Exit symbolism: Half-submerged boat being carried from ocean (illusory physicality “leaving” dream state)
• Waking transition symbolism: (Liminal transmutation) North Koreans to Australian SES workers
• Waking symbolism type: Water Lowering Waking Symbolism (WLWS); getting closer to the shore over time also symbolizes waking and circadian rhythms factors
• Additional personal notes: Our (present) porch as symbolizing the waking space is ambiguously combined with WLWS.

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Morning of April 3, 2017. Monday.



My dream begins with the usual water induction (which at least one lucid or semi-lucid dream of every night since early childhood begins with). A group of about seven unidentifiable female forms (though typically variations of Zsuzsanna) appears reflected in silhouette on the surface of the slowly rising water, but rather than any type of cheerful ritual (including healing affirmations or those of several other types), my dream shifts into where they are eventually on a boat. There is some sort of backstory regarding the journey but it is not clear. I “remember” that they are from the 1920s.

My dream shifts into a (false) waking stage (which includes minor physical anticipation of the falling sensation) though my lucidity becomes more instinctual (and shifts into non-lucid dream control after the next scene) even though my dream remains vivid. The liminal waking expectation fades and I shift back into my dream (without a false awakening - only the continuation of the original ocean theme).

I then see a few men from the 1920s on some sort of unlikely open train in the distance. I seem to be hovering above the ocean in an incorporeal state. The rickety train is carrying livestock and supplies. They are going up a very steep railway bridge but which is actually a rollercoaster rising up from the ocean. The top is incredibly steep, but the train somehow makes it over the peak safely and begins to slowly go down the other side. (I do not recognize that it is a rollercoaster and continue to associate it as a railway bridge.) This event is metaphorical for the false waking expectation - that is, going up a slope but then going over the other side with no mishap, fall, or collapse. As a result, I focus on the boat of girls again (of whom I now associate with relatives or ancestors), but soon realize that their boat is not present. I notice a number of other boats. I wonder if they have become lost (which of course is analogous of losing my lucidity).

I am then on a couch in a very distorted version of the Loomis Street house. For example, a bathroom replaces the small northeast bedroom and the couch is near the center of the living room facing south. The large television is against the south wall (though in reality it was always out from the east wall with the couch’s back against the south wall). Zsuzsanna is on my left as well as our two youngest children on her left. Very curiously, my brother Leonard (half-brother on my father’s side), of whom I have rarely dreamt of in my lifetime, is on my right. There is a very unusual loud squawking noise. It turns out to be a brownish pterodactyl crawling on a cliff made up of clusters of smooth boulders (though which looks more like boulders near the ocean shore). I am trying to work out if I am seeing this on the television or if we are somehow looking through a hole in the wall into the past. I contemplate whether or not the pterodactyl will fall off the cliff, as it is getting closer and closer to the edge. Something within my mind makes me realize that this is a waking prompt symbol (just as with the rollercoaster railway bridge in the previous scene) and my dream shifts without me being lucid for the second time (though this is likely because there is an ocean association, which can cause reinduction).

Soon, there is a scene of Egyptian “gladiators”. I think it odd that a sticker book Zsuzsanna and our children are looking at has images that exactly match the design of what the “gladiators” are wearing on the television. Leonard points out the advertising on the armor that a few of the Egyptians are wearing. I do not consider how ludicrous it is that ancient warriors would have modern commercial symbols and English writing on their armor. One of the symbols is the McDonald’s logo engraved on the armor just above the warrior’s waist. This is curious as it is made up of two upward and downward slopes so could be seen as a waking precursor symbol just as the earlier rollercoaster railway bridge of the similar shape. The phrase “phone home” is also engraved lower down on the armor. (This is hilarious as it symbolizes communication between dream self and subliminal threads of conscious self identity, yet once again, I do not catch the dream dynamic).

My dream then shifts into vivid liminal space. I find myself walking out onto the porch (most common liminal space setting and often the last setting in a dream due to its nature). A group of unfamiliar people wearing fancy clothes from the 1920s are seated in at least three locations. Still, one male closest to the open living room door (on the right of it) seems to be dressed more as if from the late 1700s. I decide to ask what year it is. The unfamiliar male near the doorway starts reciting curious (but unremembered) poetry, with something like “three years beyond 1921”, soon informing me clearly that it is 1924. Looking out at the street (through the porch windows), I notice a number of cars from the 1920s, yet I do not see the car that the girls are supposed to be arriving in.

The other male gets up and needs to use the bathroom. He seems very cheerful and friendly. Because the porch is a “different space” apart from the main dream setting, he seems very much in awe when going into the living room and to the bathroom door since that part of the house is “my time” (as in contrast to this dream’s personified emergent consciousness), though I remain on the porch, watching him through the doorway. However, the bathroom door is locked from the outside and he does not know how to use a knob lock. He returns to the porch, still in awe yet seeming very happy. I tell him that I am from 2016 (not remembering it is actually 2017). I tell him that I will unlock the bathroom door for him. Instead, he starts touching my face, hands, shoulders, wrists, and arms, pressing his fingers against me as if he thinks I am not quite human, me “being from the future”. I tell him (at least twice) that I am a “hologram”. (This is technically correct. The personified subconscious, always the dream self in first person when not lucid, as it certainly is not the conscious self identity, is technically a type of hologram, especially as the dream self certainly does not have a real physical body either.)

He continues to push his fingers against my face and begins to smell me, while remaining very cheerful. The sense of touch is extremely enhanced and “accelerated” here. Coalescence (dream self unity of all other dream characters - where all the dream characters quickly merge into the dreamer like blobs of pale light into a swimming pool) soon occurs and of course it is me who has to actually wake up to use the bathroom.

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Understanding dreams and dream dynamics:

• Water remains my most common form of induction (and real-time symbol for sleep) and this is apparently true for the whole of society, as the majority of commercial relaxation, meditation, and self-hypnosis tapes have included the sound of the ocean, a river, or a waterfall.
• The metaphorical waking precursors (especially the rollercoaster railway bridge where I actually felt a slight physical shift into liminal space even though I was nowhere near it) not completing and instead bringing me back into the dream state is not that common (especially when I have to wake to use the bathroom). Instead, it took my personified emergent consciousness to bring me out directly (though still oddly sustained). (I assume he was not my personified preconscious even considering the porch setting as he was not aggressive or confrontational in any way and there was no additional shift other than last-stage coalescence.)
• I presently associate my brother Leonard with fake news (which he is continuously posting on Facebook). This is likely to be a dream sign here, “fake news” being analogous to being in a (non-lucid or subliminally lucid) dream. Also, he is on my right, and the emergent consciousness precursor often has its event horizon on the right. (This is developed out of reading from left to right and a number line being oriented left to right, not on the disproved concept of left-brain and right-brain.)
• The seeming contradiction of the waking precursors not completing is likely biological and based on circadian rhythms. Even with a need to use the bathroom, the body still requires a certain amount of rest. (It is also possible that the anticipatory muscle states being mixed, that is - both whole body and bladder pressure - were responsible for the atypical dynamics and truncated symbolism.)
• This dream utilizes an altered setting based solely on dream state and waking dynamics, where the emergent consciousness goes towards the bathroom, which replaces the real bedroom. This is directly symbolic of me needing to leave my bed and go to the bathroom. The door is locked, so I still need to physically wake to use it (though often dreams render peculiar bathrooms or annoying situations as a trigger to deliberately bring the dreamer out of sleep).

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Dream #NYMB53.

Morning of January 1, 2017. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 28 sec. Readability score: 68.



My dream starts out with a typical water induction state (the most common beginning since early childhood as water symbolizes sleep and its dynamics in real time) and eventually becomes an area near a boat dock. It is in an unknown area near the ocean and seems to be late morning. I walk around as if perhaps looking for a boat to buy. Most are small motorboats. I look more closely at one near the outer wall of a commercial building.

Someone says “seven thousand dollars” loudly and clearly, but I think he might be talking to someone else who is looking around at the boats (though this is not certain).

I am sitting in a tavern. A person is sitting near me, and he or she turns to look at me. They are wearing a baggy cloth cat mask that covers their head. It is a pale yellowish cream color and almost seems like finer burlap in texture. It does not look quite right as if their head may be too small or perhaps slightly misshapen. I do not perceive any threat or sense of danger. I consider making an amusingly rude remark, but I do not. There is a sudden clear sound seemingly about five feet away that may be a bottle falling off a shelf.

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It was part of a sequence of about twenty different scenes, but these are the clearer and stabler parts. It stems from the kind where I watch hundreds of settings rapidly change like a slideshow, eventually slowing down and stabilizing. Sometimes I deliberately step into a setting. Other times I let it expand around me, and I am within my illusory dream body.

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A cat, though not a real cat here, is a witness to the dream state and a factor of circadian rhythms (associated with night). Being only a cat mask implies my dream is losing cohesion, but it is also a coalescence factor of the emerging consciousness that the color yellow also represents. It is also reminiscent of a scarecrow, a dynamic of physicality being inactive as is one when sleeping. It is also like having a pillowcase over one’s head. The bottle falling was the waking prompt.

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Morning of February 16, 2016. Tuesday.



I am watching, while incorporeal, the adventures of two young males riding in a small boat in Loch Ness. There are other people around, but not as integrated into the events I am viewing. As the men travel over the lake, there is some sort of special imaging they are able to see which is related to a new kind of advanced technology. Other unseen characters are making this possible for them and they do not seem to be part of the research themselves. There is a sense of beauty as the bottom of Loch Ness is rendered in perfect detail, though all in one brighter color yet which seems to be different over time.

Soon, the flat fossilized remains of a huge pterodactyl are seen on the large screen. However, it seems as if I am moving over this rendered area (of the bottom of Loch Ness) in a bird’s eye view as well as with no implication of water, only the imagery of the lake bottom as I (or the imagery) slowly move ahead, somewhat like horizontal scrolling though with the seemingly correct size orientation (as if my incorporeal form is integrated into the technology itself or at least the end result of it). There is a vague awareness of the possibility of seeing the Loch Ness monster if it exists, but this does not occur. Over time, only unrealistically huge fossils are seen, mostly all of flying creatures. It seems amazing that mankind is now able to see everything at the bottom of Loch Ness and the two males are thrilled and grateful to the others who are making this possible (as, again, they seem like random members of the public who just happen to be in the right place at the right time).

A huge archaeopteryx fossil is also seen (possibly about a hundred times bigger than it would be in reality), and the focus probably remains on this section for the longest period. There are also a lot of similar fossils, one which is possibly the fossil of a giant (fictional) prehistoric flying snake. Curiously, again, there do not seem to be any fossils of swimming creatures anywhere on the lake bottom, or extinct lake denizens, mostly only the giant prehistoric birds and flying reptiles, some fossil sections touching mostly at wingtips. The mood remains very cheerful and satisfying even during the waking transition.

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Of course, this dream represents looking into the deepest recesses of memory at the deepest levels of mind to see things that were not as visible or detailed as before. The fact that they were only gigantic flying creatures relates to the “higher” ideas and memories (and with greater perspective) I think, which had originally “taken more in” from a more detailed “bird’s eye view” before becoming a part of my memories and dreams. This also fits in with my increased research of date-specific layers in dreams over time. On February 16, 1970, there was a dream of a living archaeopteryx (only about the size of a chicken in this case and remaining on the south side of my room) in my bedroom in Cubitis, which was influenced by an image in an old book (which my mother bought second-hand) on prehistoric animals.

Morning of June 27, 2013. Thursday.



In my dream, from my orientation and viewpoint, I seemingly remain a normal human being despite what my role is.

I start out being in some sort of makeshift prison or refugee camp. There seem to be only men. The rooms are dirty as if the building had been abandoned long ago, at least for its original purpose, yet used for many years after as it is now seemingly not maintained.

Two men bring a third angry-looking man up to me, a man holding each of the held man’s arms, one on each side of him and with both their hands. I do not like the situation. It is understood that even though I am not a part of the group (as most of them seem either Irish or English), my job is to get them all to safety in another country somehow. Still, that does not explain why this man is angry. Perhaps he does not want to escape with the others, or maybe he is a spy.

There are some odd perceptual changes and scene shifts when I become more annoyed by my location, which seems to be a composite of a very dirty large open bathroom and gymnasium. There is something known about everyone getting out and all going to an area where it will be easier to get to the UK, which is where everyone is escaping to. I am unsure if the UK is their original home, or a place where they will all claim asylum. I am also unsure of what country or city we are in. At times, it seems that I am already in the UK relative to names of areas and later hearing members of the public who speak with a British accent.

The actor Bruce Willis is in the refugee camp, appearing unkempt and desperate. He is not a main character; just a homeless person I see only in the background a couple times.

I seem to be walking on my own later, yet somehow I am “carrying” all the other people from the refugee or prison camp. Not only am I supposedly a large ship, I am a large ship on land, moving fairly fast, yet still fully human of my normal size from my viewpoint, just running along, on my way to freedom, helping many others to get to safety. I stop at the edge of a steep bank of a larger river near a forest. An unfamiliar man and woman of about thirty or more, who appear to be English, point out where I should go (to my right) because that is the general direction of where the “Brit Rivers” are that will eventually lead “us” to freedom, apparently across the ocean, yet the name somehow also seems like a resort or hotel where they had stayed in the past.

From my orientation, it seems I may actually be in Nova Scotia (Canada) and moving north, possibly in Sydney (not in Australia, but the Nova Scotia Sydney - some sort of confusion with the other Sydney, perhaps). It eventually seemingly turns out this refugee or prison camp was in Sydney, Nova Scotia (or somewhere just to the south) for some unknown reason (a vague backstory of England and Nova Scotia at war or dealing with too many refugees), and the plan is to get to the ocean north of Sydney and then swim east from there or, as a ship, to get to the UK. I am a walking human “boat” that is somehow “full of people”, yet again, still normal and human-sized and seemingly on my own.

The most vivid part of my dream starts, with a few dangerous thrills, though I feel wonderful. I jump into the river, vividly feeling the cold water and motions and current - but the current takes me westerly and in the wrong direction - and at times, I barely keep above the surface. Eventually though, I end up going in the right direction. I vividly feel myself moving through the water, again, just barely above the surface at some points, though I am not actually struggling because, after all, I am apparently a boat and just being tossed around like a boat on the rough waves. There is one point when I move swiftly through tunnels a lot like the scene from “The Goonies” (from 1985), which is really thrilling but also a bit worrisome (somewhat claustrophobic and without certainty if it will come to a dead end with no way to get back - a sparsely recurring dream concept). I am then back moving through the ocean on my way to carrying all the escaped prisoners to either their old home or a new one.

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Morning of June 21, 2013. Friday.



Here are a couple dreams of the same date with a few different scenes.

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There is a flood again, but the water comes mostly from large tidal waves that somehow move more inland. Some people are looking for survivors as there is still a danger from more flooding.

There is a strange scene of riding the fast, powerful waves just to get to another area, perhaps to our house, as I was getting my youngest son and oldest daughter from some sort of group meeting or visit in a building from a room that was a bit like my old apartment on King Street.

A woman is looking for her young daughter of about four or five years and I help a few people dig through the mud near a curb. She was trapped under a lot of mud near the curb and must have somehow gone through the storm drain, which is also filled with mud, and yet she is somehow still alive. However, it would be impossible in real life to take pieces out of the street and sidewalk so easily, although it is broken up a bit in my dream. The girl’s breathing makes bubbles come up through the mud and a thinner layer of water over the mud. Also, it seems there are several storm drain chimney-like sections very close together.

In another dream, I have my old snub-nosed revolver and end up protecting a few people from another person who has a gun, but who sort of becomes a friend. This was probably heavily influenced by a two-part episode of “Deep Space Nine” I had just seen (“Past Tense” parts 1 and 2).

There is trouble with another person who seems to be a threat to the area, but then Superman arrives (I have not seen the new “Superman” movie yet - “Man of Steel” - but may in a few years - also really tired of hearing the word “reboot”, which is mindless, way overused “trendspeak”).

There are about five repeating “takes” in a row in this dream that are mostly the same. I shoot Superman on the right side of his stomach, and he seems surprised and is badly injured (but not dead). People are amazed. All I did was use a Kryptonite bullet, which anyone could do, really.

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I have tentatively decided to classify part of this as precognitive (I never do this unless it is verified with at least a few details involved, but this still happens continuously and has since earliest memory), as my young niece in the USA had to drive through flood waters around the time I was dreaming this - around the same streets as in this dream - and I last saw her in real life when she was very young. Could be coincidence in this case, though, as floods are a fairly common theme, both precognitive and somewhat symbolic, perhaps. However, almost all my dreams contain at least a few clearer implied precognitive elements of one kind or another.

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Morning of October 11, 1968. Friday.



Summary of meaning: In subliminal anticipation of the need to get up for school, my mind renders my mother (as parallel symbolism with my own inevitable emergent consciousness precursor) as a prehistoric amphibious creature and, with the aid of four older males, to be held on an island by building a shed (liminal space) around her. When she wakes, the shed explodes outwardly, as I am leaving the island (dream exit symbolism).

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A team of four unknown men, dressed as if on a safari (recurring dream character mode), probably in their thirties, seemingly with my help (even though I am only seven years old), trap an Eryops that had fallen asleep on a deserted isolated island (possibly near Florida or within the state of Florida in a very large lake as I do notice some palmettos) by somehow building a wooden shed around it while it is sleeping, yet the hammering apparently does not disturb its sleep at any point which is of course illogical. There is a very vague consideration that it may dig its way out as it is somewhat toad-like and toads do dig. However, when it eventually wakes up as we are preparing to leave the island, it is easily able to smash through with only a couple movements of its body and tail. I see boards flying out from the outer walls of the small building and feel a sense of awe and imminent danger. I watch the men leaving quickly in a rowboat (though I am not yet in it, though I seemingly soon teleport to it) as the creature is escaping but is not a direct threat as it remains where it is. It is facing the shore but facing to the right in my viewpoint. There is a sense of awe and unpleasant surprise but I have never classified this as a nightmare as I seem to only be observing this last scene without being directly present, becoming incorporeal at the waking point. (It was fairly common in my childhood dreams to become incorporeal in the final moments in eluding a possible threat, and as such, actual nightmares have been extremely rare throughout my life.)

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• This event of the prehistoric creature waking up as I am waking up (and it was my last dream of the morning prior to getting up) primarily renders the event as a very obvious waking metaphor, about as obvious as a basic dream meaning can be. Subliminally trying to prevent myself from waking (by preventing the creature from waking and escaping) did not work in this case, as biology is stronger than subliminal conscious will.
• Last update on Sunday, 30 October 2016. I had not considered that the shed in this dream might be associated with a doghouse. I learned that I had read a Marmaduke panel on October 6, 1968 which featured the dog “digging a storm cellar” under his doghouse. Additionally, building a shed around the sleeping creature seems a possible analogy to building a doghouse in hopes to tame a beast. A year previously, when I lived at 611 North Monroe Street, I had been yelled at by an unknown man who told me to stay away from his puppy (who was always resting in his doghouse when I visited him near my own open yard). This upset me (especially as I had never seen him before even though he lived in the apartments on the other side of our yard).

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Morning of April 10, 1977. Sunday.



This was a rather long dream which lasted until late morning. There seemed to be at least two “resets”. One of the main characters in my dream is Roosevelt I (but more adult-like) who is a friend and a classmate. There is a girl with him who may be an adult version of Tina L. The main theme of my dream is that a boat disappeared. It was a small motor yacht with a cabin though Roosevelt and Tina mostly stand atop the cabin. This disappearance had happened, supposedly, a few years prior, I believe - I am not fully certain of my dream’s backstory (possibly because of the “resets”). What had happened was that, when the first boat was going around the winding curve of a river, with each bank covered with very tall trees and other plants so that you could not see through to the other side of the river bend, it never arrived on the other side and was never seen again at the time. There were a few witnesses to this event.

Experiments are conducted in the region that relate to the river’s water and its currents. Roosevelt is doing most of the research. Later, he and Tina are going rather fast down the river. Suddenly, another boat comes around the bend and almost hits them as it is on a direct collision course. At this point, I am fully in my dream and it is very vivid. Although I am on the boat with Roosevelt, I seem to be a non-character. There is no accident, only a sense of awe at the boat returning with the people not seeming to have aged. This turns out to have been the boat that had supposedly vanished years previously. Apparently, there is some sort of time barrier whereby, under certain undetermined conditions, anything that travels through it at “just the right time or speed” shifts into a parallel universe of sorts, or so it seems. Interestingly, in my dream, the events do not seem that much like science-fiction.