Blue_Opossum

Saturday morning, 18 December 1971. Age 10.

Dream #: 1,825-01.

1 minute and 50 seconds to read.

Requires reading and understanding: MAPPED DREAM “Run from the Brontosaurus” in the first part of this report.

This dream is one of many from childhood that I still cherish, regardless of its usual predictable causality factors. I still view this dream as hilarious on one level.

While hand mobility and somatosensory response (often with summoning and handling coins) have occurred regularly in dreams since childhood, foot mobility with a somatosensory response in the bottoms of my feet is uncommon, though I also use my hands in this case - and it is still predictably tied to leg mobility as most outcomes in this mode.

The curious event here involves falling and breaking a window by landing on it from a reasonable height but remaining in the dream state. Although horizontal, it ties to using a door as a dream’s deliberate exit point. While my intent to exit is ongoing, it triggers an offset somatosensory dream segment instead. I had, however, deliberately jumped from a bridge to leave the dream state, expecting, if remaining in the dream, to land in the water, as with similar instances. That is what I find hilarious.

“Doubling” is a viable term for this dream sequence because I am still in the dream state for an additional vivid segment, and it combines two dream-exiting methods I have often used.

What caused this particular shifting response (rather than waking me up)? My guess is because of the lack of myoclonus in this case. (Even so, there have been more recent dreams where I remained in the dream state after feeling “the drop.”) Myoclonus most often wakes me from the dream’s physical illusions (particularly leg myoclonus at the beginning of every sleep cycle). It shifted into a somatosensory response (glass in the bottoms of my feet) but still did not wake me. A typical hand-based somatosensory response as a catalyst is an animal nibbling my fingers.

Again, the lightning (an increasing synaptic energy analogy) striking the dinosaur and bringing it to life (waking it up) was also a transition representing precursory wakefulness, though, at that point, my dream also shifted into another segment (though with my deliberate intent in the first instance - because in childhood, I learned to hold myself in the dream state even when there is an imaginary threat and now have gotten much better at it - see “Heraldic Dragon Storm” from 2023 for example).

The unrealistic stop-motion effect (movie influence) has occurred in many other dreams. These days, “bad CGI” also occasionally “corrupts” dream narratives. Animated content superimposed over otherwise realistic scenes has also often occurred since childhood.

Saturday morning, 18 December 1971. Age 10.

Dream #: 1,825-01.

2 minutes and 30 seconds to read.

Scene 1:

I intuitively respond to the dream state by “leaving my bed” (imagined) before dawn and “walking with intent” through the Cubitis house’s dark carport - toward our backyard rabbit shed (a recurrent beginning for this mode of dreaming).

A brontosaurus in suspended animation is present. I cannot pass it. Its head and neck lie across the short concrete path that extends into our backyard from the east end of our carport, stopping at our shed’s entrance. I illogically conclude my father dug it up while working on the real-world addition to the building.

Lightning strikes the dinosaur’s head, and it comes to life as I watch its head rise above me.

Scene 1 Influence and Causality:

This part of the narrative came from the 1960 movie “Dinosaurus.” However, in that movie, the brontosaurus was friendly. My dream integrates the essence of the dinosaur from the 1959 redundantly titled movie “The Giant Behemoth” and borrows from it more than “Dinosaurus” from this point.

Lightning striking the dinosaur’s head to “wake it up” (as in the movie) is cast here because of an increase in my intuitive response to dreaming, that is, gaining more metacognition while still in the dream state. Therefore, the dinosaur is this dream’s sleep simulacrum. Sleep simulacra have featured regularly in my dreams since childhood. I habitually seek out and wake up sleep simulacra by habit to vivify and sustain the dream state. I stay in the dream state (by choice) and “run” from the dinosaur without real-world emotion. This event exemplifies my lifelong trait of anticipating wakefulness while dreaming, yet it results in virtually infinite unique and satisfying narratives.

Scene 2:

Even though I am on foot, I soon reach the El Jobean bridge in Port Charlotte, though it takes over 40 minutes by car in real-world time. It incorrectly looks more like London Bridge when I look back while walking south. The time now seems like late afternoon. I get impressions of “toy” cars the size of real-world cars, though I do not focus on them. I find the bridge imagery fascinating. The dinosaur, which moves slowly in the distance, may not reach me as the bridge might collapse. It may not even be aware of me. It moves with an unrealistic stop-motion effect, as in the movie.

Scene 3:

When reaching about two-thirds of the length of the bridge under a blue sky, I decide I will jump from it because I reason it may collapse anyway to bring an end to my dream. (Illusory bodily awareness and sense of weight are too realistic for flying in this instance.) Even so, I am still vaguely unjustifiably wary of what will happen if the animal reaches me before I wake.

I sit on the railing and cheerfully jump, expecting I will merely wake up - though I do not. Instead, I enter a more vivid offset dream.

I feel an impression of landing on my feet, but there is a loud staccato sound of breaking glass. There is a brief cool “pain” in my feet. I am now in the southwest area of my real-world school’s playground (in the early morning), standing on a four-paned window I broke by landing on it.

I sit down and cheerfully pull flat triangular pieces of glass from the bottom of my feet. There are about five pieces in each. There is no blood, and I am unconcerned.

Outcome Causality:

My deliberate jump to leave the dream state caused a quick transition of responses from my vestibular cortex with imaginary movement (and the regularly occurring leg mobility theme every sleep cycle), a predictable auditory event of the sound of breaking glass (that has continually happened throughout my life, and which otherwise breaks the illusion of dreaming in contrast to here), and my somatosensory response (which often follows my vestibular-motor response).

Morning December 7, 2017. Thursday.



With water induction, I find myself walking over a walkway made up of boards of various lengths. It is also implied to be a road (or low-set bridge) for cars (though only one passes from the opposite direction at times to where I move out of the way a short distance), over water (either the ocean or a large lake), though I remain unsure of the location. Walking with me to my immediate left is an unknown male in his late twenties. He reminds me of an otherwise younger John Leguizamo (though I seem to be much younger as well).

“Be careful, it’s a pigeon,” he tells me. A mostly black pigeon walks across the walkway, perpendicular to us, and from my left to my right. John’s spoken statement causes me to become a bit more aware, but I do not understand the relevance.

Looking at him, his face seems to remain frozen, with an annoying grin. “Is it now?” I say, but he does not respond.

I am trying to grasp the situation when I realize that it has something to do with “not letting a pigeon cross your path”, though this is otherwise distorted from the nonsensical “black cat” superstition.

Looking at him again, his face is in a different annoying expression, also somewhat like a grin.

I decide to “not let the pigeon cross my path” by turning right and following the pigeon, as it had apparently stopped and is walking slowly. Still, this will lead me off the side of the walkway if I continue. Instead, I find myself walking on my bed. There is a strange falling sensation as if my body was not fully perceived. I am concerned that I fell atop Zsuzsanna, but this is only a false awakening.

---

Decoding template follows:

• Dream type and explanation: This dream uses “return flight waking symbolism”, which is created when the physicality of the conscious self identity is ambiguously perceived prior to the RAS (reticular activating system) neural gating that regulates the sleep-wake transition. Consequently, the dream self identity subliminally anticipates falling, rising, sustained flight, or other illusory movement based on the misperception of the vestibular system’s equilibrium dynamics.
• Dream state induction type: Water (most common, at least once per sleeping period).
• Dream state indicators: The bed (in the false awakening).
• Liminal space symbol: The walkway over the water and the false awakening setting.
• Preconscious factor: John Leguizamo.
• Liminal space cessation trigger: Contemplating illusory nonsense while in the dream state itself (yet not realizing it).
• Flight symbol to dream exit point (symbolic waking transition): The pigeon as “returning” me to my bed, symbolized in my dream by the false awakening. (Typically, the preconscious points out this dream feature as such, which here, I become annoyed at, probably out of liminal dream state awareness in not wanting to wake yet.)
• Liminal dream control seems to be a partial element, evidenced by my “freezing” (and sustaining) of the preconscious and implementing my own focus of choice, even though it otherwise manifests my false awakening into the offset dream.
• “And they try to pigeon hole in you in hollywouldnt but dont u let them!” - John Leguizamo.

---

Morning of August 24, 2017. Thursday.



My dream begins with the most common form of dream state induction; the presence of water, in this case, an unknown river. (This is based on circadian biology and the glymphatic system, whereby at least one dream per night for over fifty years has featured water, not including the numerous water-based hypnagogic dream sequences, which number in the hundreds each sleeping period.)

I am standing and looking out over this unfamiliar river in seemingly late morning. There is a wooden bridge present, but it does not go all the way across the river. A helicopter flies in from my right and drops off a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna. My dream self is not fully aware of her identity, though I am uncertain of my dream self’s implied age. Zsuzsanna is on the outside of the two-tiered wooden railing, on my right and facing to the left in profile, appearing to do some work on it by tightening the bolts. I think about helping, but I am unsure how to get to where she presently is, as the walkway now seems fully underwater. This seems somewhat unusual, as I vaguely puzzle over why a railing would be fixed when the walkway itself is underwater. Another section of the bridge, which includes a ladder, is also submerged.

Time passes, and Dean Norris, the actor, appears. I do not see him as a celebrity but as a bystander, though possibly associated with the repair of the bridge.

Somehow, though this would certainly not be possible in real life (or even consciously resolvable in method), I lift a large section of the walkway up from the water, the farthest edge towards me, while I am still standing on the riverbank, though squatting slightly at one point. It seems more like a square platform constructed of small logs, the orientation of the logs parallel to the river bank.

An alligator, its head oriented opposite from the riverbank, surprises me by swimming out from under where the section was (yet there is a vague awareness of instinctual dream control suggesting that I created the alligator, and this is further evidenced by the alligator not being perceived as a danger or being the coalescence-based waking prompt). I am wary at first, but it does not attack or show much aggression. Instead, it swims back down under the surface. I tell Dean that there are other alligators in the river, though farther away from where we are. He does not comment.

“My father built this bridge,” I say to him, somewhat absentmindedly.

“Your dad built this bridge?” he replies without emotion.

“…and he built a lot of utility buildings,” I add.

I rethink what I had just said. Although I know that my father built a lot of park utility buildings, bathrooms, and rest stop shelters, I am unsure if he was involved in the building of this bridge as it was first constructed and that he may have only worked on it years after it was built. I consider that he may have been a part of a team of builders, but I then consider if the bridge had first been built in the 1800s (though I really have no knowledge of when it was built). If so, I consider if Dean was puzzled by my comment, but we do not talk much after this. I consider if Dean will bring in men in speedboats to cull the alligators, but this is not certain.

---

Ordinarily, a bridge symbolizes the progression from dreaming to waking (as well as possibly representing the biological construction of a new memory or neural pathway) though sometimes seemingly represents a potentially prescient timeline. There seem to be two preconscious factors here (Dean and the alligator), both atypically passive (though this may be due to instinctual dream control). However, the dynamics are a bit curious, as Dean may be coalesced into the interconsciousness.

Submerged walkways are otherwise common in my dreams (and have been since early childhood) as a natural result of circadian biology and water symbolizing the dynamics of sleep in real time. A helicopter is a common symbol in my dreams that is linked to Merkaba energies and gamma brain waves in a similar way as a tornado often is, though it typically relates to “return flight” waking symbolism (though here it may relate to Zsuzsanna being in the waking stage while I remain asleep, seemingly validated by her arriving by helicopter, being on the outside of the railing and tightening it - becoming more aware in her emergent consciousness and outside of my ephemeral dream self incarnation).

I am not certain as to why the preconscious so often appears as a celebrity (sometimes recognized as themselves, sometimes recognized only as a fictional character they have played, sometimes as an ordinary person with no celebrity association as in this dream - there seems to be no determining factor as to why this is other than concurrent threads of available memory). It may be due to the transpersonal element or how the preconscious is completely different from the conscious self identity (though this seems deliberate to subliminally begin to initiate dream state realization in how neither the dream self nor conscious self is anything at all like the preconscious - which often creates conflict or emotional augmentation of enough energy to trigger waking).

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Morning of April 26, 2017. Wednesday.



There were previous scenes at a different level of consciousness, but I more vividly find myself walking in an unfamiliar area. It seems as if it might be some sort of low-set bridge. I am not focused on where I am going. It may be to the shopping mall. There are no buildings around. There is a large expanse of water to my left. It is daylight out though I am not sure of the implied time. It may be morning.

Eventually, I notice one other person about half-a-block’s distance ahead of me. Getting closer, I see that it is my wife Zsuzsanna’s sister Judy. She seems wary at first, until she realizes who I am, but keeps walking.

My attention falls on the water. There are a large number of birds that are mostly all the same, mostly a mix of dark gray, black, white, and blue. Some of them are on the surface of the water, somewhat duck-like (though I am not sure what kind of a bird they are). About an equal number of birds, I can see under the water, their heads upward just to the underside of the surface. This imagery continues as I walk at least the equivalent of two city blocks. I find it curious, even somewhat peculiar, but it is a beautiful scene. The birds under the water do not move that much but may be feeding on the same food source that the birds above the water are looking for or eating. Thus, there is a vague sense of ambiguity.

---

This is a curious liminal space transition (especially as I seem to be walking on some sort of bridge) that mixes water induction (with subliminal awareness of being asleep) and the anticipatory (yet also subliminal) consciousness shift symbol (the birds). I find it interesting how nearly identical imagery seems to be rendered in each area of the water as I walk along.

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Morning of July 2, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and family as we are now are living in an unfamiliar and unknown location. I need to go to the grocery store before it closes, as it is late at night. Even though the location is unfamiliar, I seem to somehow know where I am going when I leave our house.

I walk mainly down a sidewalk in an area where there are no buildings. I am headed towards a bridge that is perhaps half a block long. On my right, across the street, I notice a ninja in black jump up onto the bridge railing after it seems he had come from the middle of the street ahead. At first, I had thought he might be approaching me, thus I remain wary. I am not sure if it is a teenager intent on attacking and robbing me though that feeling is not that strong as I keep walking. It may be that he has no intentions toward me. This remains unclear.

I seem to discern another person ahead of me and in lighter clothes, but walking towards me. However, this person seems to either disappear or also cross the street to the other side. I have a vague impression he may be connected to the ninja as part of a gang. Still, nothing threatening happens. The ninja remains on the railing in a squatting position.

There is an odd and atypical dream within a dream where I am reading about an older male from China concerning some sort of anecdote of the author’s. This occurs as I am walking but my dream goes back to the original setting after a short time.

Eventually, I cross to the right side of the street and enter the unfamiliar grocery store. An unfamiliar and unknown Asian girl is the cashier at the one counter across from where the shelves are. There is one aisle on the other side. Even though the store seems to be closed at this point I tell her I will not be long. There is a shift, and I already have two small bags of groceries without any recall of either picking them up or paying. I then tell her, as I am heading toward the doors, that I need to get one more thing, a box of cereal.

I find myself going to an area that is apparently in the back of the store. I notice that it is a mess, with various items strewn across the floor to my left. Otherwise, there is not that much on the shelves. I walk out back to being near the counter and ask her where the cereal is and she makes a note of it being on the other side of the main area. I notice a box of cereal (at the top of the shelf) which is Weet-Bix but mostly cinnamon flavored and consider that I will just grab that. I still do not have full recollection of paying for anything as I leave, though my dream fades from there.

---

I have had other dreams where a certain part of a grocery store was messy or under construction or repair. It may relate to improper diet and the under construction aspect may relate to healing and cellular repair - or, it may just be incidental to the transient nature of the dream state. Shopping for food dreams are fairly common for me.

---

A bridge typically represents a consciousness shift within the dream state. This is validated in this case by the ninja in black jumping up onto the bridge railing before I cross the bridge (though again, across the street from me yet seemingly just appearing from the middle of the street), which seems to be a less interactive form of the waking precursor. In this case, the ninja may be a curious variation of my own shadow form that has appeared in a number of dreams since early childhood, primarily in two forms, both forms implied to be my own shadow (regardless of how far away or even being of a different orientation). In the one form, it seems to be “matched” to my dream self as I test to see if it is my dream self’s shadow and in the other form, it seems to be my conscious self (doing different things than my dream self) looking into my dream and watching my dream self. However, even in the former, it seems related to a subtle awareness of conscious activity and emerging (that is, growing and clarifying) self-awareness.

Morning of August 6, 2015. Thursday.



I am with an unknown male though also sense Zsuzsanna is around at one point. I am going with him to an unknown location, though I think it has something to do with recovering certain information on the other side of the river (possibly in a different town). We are both riding bicycles and it vaguely reminds me of riding with Kenneth W or James M at a distance (out of town or on the other side of town) that eventually seems too far, though my bicycle is functioning normally. There was another schoolmate that used to go with me most of the way home (only for a month or two), though oddly, I do not recall his name (one of the only names I had forgotten in my lifetime, in fact) and this may be the character I am thinking of. It seems fairly late at night and I can just barely make out land features.

We reach a bridge over water and cross it about halfway and I soon see it is slightly inclined to where it goes down into the water, submerged from there. This surprises me, as I thought the other male knew where he was going, though now it seems he is gone (or perhaps somehow already got to the other side). I am trying to remember if he did get to the other side (with a brief impression that he was in the water for a short time). I am not sure what to do. I am not sure if I should ride my bicycle over the surface of the water, ride in while half-submerged (with the bicycle wheels half-submerged as I cross the river) or just keep going and see what happens (though I do not really want to ride completely underwater). My dilemma causes my dream to slowly fade. I have had numerous similar dreams of partly submerged bridges and docks throughout my life since childhood. I suspect it directly relates to the waking process or state of consciousness itself as many other in-dream predicaments do (for example, a car crash may solely metaphorically represent the waking process and the termination of the temporary dream-self).

I might as well include another non-lucid dream with this entry since there is not that much to it. Caution: Violence at end. Skip to avoid.

I am shopping in a store I buy food at in real life, though it is quite different. I am looking in a very large freezer (much deeper than in reality - and it seemingly has no shelves) where there are mostly meat pie packages and a few other frozen items. I hold the glass door open for awhile and am somewhat annoyed as there is not that much food in normal packaging in the entire freezer (which is nearly the entire length of the aisle). What little items there are, are sitting on large cardboard boxes (I assume they are unopened stock) and there are also a few smaller boxes on top (a couple being open) and I contemplate getting out whatever I need as I thus far only have one meat pie package (probably containing about four to six meat pies). There are only a few loose items strewn about the top of the stack that I want to look at or perhaps buy.

I then see that there are three people on the other side of the boxes who are standing within the larger freezer area itself, the boxes of which are at least three rows deep and stacked to above the waist. There are two females and a male and at least two of them have clipboards and appear to be taking some sort of inventory. They are a bit to the left. I reach over to the right and move a couple smaller lighter boxes to get to another product, which may be the only one left.

“Why don’t you go somewhere else instead of f–king around here?” asks the male (who may be the store’s manager), sounding very annoyed. This surprises me because I am a customer in a grocery store just trying to reach a product. I inform the man that I am leaving (and I do) and that I will make sure none of my friends or family ever shop there again. (In real life, I no longer shop in the grocery store that absurdly promotes self-service through the cramped and problematic small self-service section with a trolley-full of groceries while the cashiers just stand around gawking as all the normal checkouts are blocked off.)

From here, I walk home (rather than continuing to do any shopping elsewhere), though the location and building is not that familiar, yet I know I live there with my family. It vaguely reminds me of some sort of unlikely composite of Duffy Street (Australia) and Arcadia’s North Monroe (where I have not lived since early 1968). There are many young people running around randomly in the front yard, perhaps involved in some sort of game (like informal soccer) or party, though there does not seem to be any order to any of it and some of them seem to be wearing very strange and random outfits. It may be some sort of high school or college event, such as a semester break (though I do not know why they picked this area as they obviously do not all live in the area).

As I decide to go around and enter my home through the back of the building to avoid collision or confrontation with what may be a chaotic group of addled college or high school students, a (unfamiliar and unknown) girl who seems friendly joins me. We walk to an area near the back of my apartment building (which at this point looks a bit like the apartment building across the yard from where I lived at North Monroe). The back of my building has a door to enter the premises (at about the middle of the walkway from where we are), though directly to my right seems to be another tall building so that it is like looking into a narrow alleyway. There are several boulders and large rocks within the alleyway which are blocking my way to the door (though realistically, it would be ridiculous to assume someone or even several people put them there by hand). “Who did this? How are people supposed to get into their apartment?” I ask the girl (who is standing to my left) angrily. The girl leads me to the other side of the building where the rocks are now mysteriously gone just from looking through the opposite side of the alleyway.

From here, we get to the back entrance where there is a screen door. A tall young unfamiliar male (though he seems almost thirty when I look again even though I first get the impression he might be a college football player) comes out asking “How are you doing, dad?” as if with mindless sarcasm related to my age (and I am at my own home after all and I assume he is not supposed to be there). At this point, I am annoyed, as I reach semi-lucidity and the waking stage at the same time. In previous dreams I used to shoot every annoying character during the waking process. This time I pull out a large knife and effectively run it across his throat as I wake.

This last part was strongly influenced by the “Secrets and Lies” television miniseries filmed where we used to live (where the father goes to get his oldest daughter and is insulted and pushed and told to leave by the younger male as if he had no right to look after his own children), where the little girl turns out to be the clever criminal and killer rather than the suspicious adult males or other characters. Sorry for giving it away but at least I spared you the misery of watching it. And yes, it was supposed to be a serious detective show.

Morning of December 2, 2014. Tuesday.



Once again, I travel back into “history”, though my Cubitis backyard becomes part of a fictional composite; this time there is an ocean that is mainly south and east instead of the backyard itself, though our house is still there, otherwise looking the same somehow. A high commercial concrete bridge seems to extend east of the carport (with highly ambiguous access plausibility), continuing easterly as far as the eye can see (taking on the implication of my recurring “eternity bridge” regarded in my note below*). I am with my wife Zsuzsanna. Our youngest son Oliver had been playing near the water at one point. It is almost as if we were originally going to go see the ocean (several miles away to the south at first) but instead, the ocean “came to us”.

(*Note: This more commercial bridge has something in common with an equally fictional wooden bridge in the exact same location and orientation from a childhood dream, where it was above a prehistoric swamp, which also seemed to be my backyard at one point though the overall setting was ambiguous as if bilocated.)

I am not sure where our son is at one point, but I do not think he is in any danger. I get the impression that he may be under the bridge on a sandbar. Several items are floating south on the ocean’s surface, each of which our son had been using but had abandoned. There is an inflatable raft, two empty green wheelie bins mostly submerged diagonally, a half-deflated inflatable mattress for a swimming pool, and at least two other items I do not recall. The items are far apart from each other.

Our view seems about thirty feet above the water at this point as I continue to gaze southerly. The floating items seem quite far away to the south as well as far below. I am annoyed at the prospect of having to go out and somehow bring all the items back, especially as they are drifting farther away. My perspective is quite skewed however, as it would be impossible for the view to seem that far away while still supposedly in range of our implied backyard.

In a short time from this point, my dream quite drastically changes the bridge area where I am standing and mostly enjoying the view from - into then being a low section where my wife and I are lying down on a regular mattress floating on the water but our mattress being somehow fixed in position to the rest of the bridge as if it was a part of it. I do not even seem to notice this rather extreme change in height or the silliness of the design. Looking at the water, which is very realistic, I am aware of the approaching shadow of a very large fish about two feet under the surface, which I take to be a shark and which slowly swims easterly, past us. There seem to be a few larger fish, one possibly a tuna, but I mostly see only one at a time. I tell my wife about the shark and move back from the edge in case it comes closer to the surface (but it does not).

I am eventually somewhat concerned for our son, but I seem to realize that he is probably not in the water at this point. Interestingly, I am eventually vaguely aware that I am creating the shark and the other shadowy submerged forms though I am not at all lucid. (This has often happened before, where I had a subtle awareness that I was creating my dream - even the eerie or threatening aspects - yet was not remotely lucid at any point - in a sense that I knew I was manifesting everything but did not actually know I was in a dream state and did not contemplate taking conscious control at any point. It sometimes seems more about “making a movie” or even avant-garde art.)

My wife is to my right, though beyond that side of our mattress is a far less defined environment, which I am not sure is water (the ocean continued northerly) or a half-wall of the old shed (which would occupy the space in reality). I have a vague concern about the shark going in that direction but sense some sort of “barrier”. There is nothing nightmarish about any emotions I hold, even though the perspective is quite vivid. I turn on my side and wake from my dream (in the same position implied in my dream) though I had not moved at all in reality.

Morning of November 24, 2013. Sunday.



My wife and I are on a large, old brick bridge with arches, seemingly running north and south and likely in Wisconsin. It is very cold and in the middle of winter (although in real life here, it is unbearably warm). I make it so that the large winter jacket I am wearing goes around her so that she is able to put her right arm through the right sleeve while my right hand holds her left hand (my left arm still being in the left sleeve). We are then “wearing the same jacket” and also embrace so that we are fully inside the jacket after zipping it up effortlessly. After a short time, we slowly float down from the bridge onto the iced-over surface of a lake or river. There is a feeling of great love and joy. There seems to be a vague plan to eventually see my best friend Toby T as we go north into the city and we sort of half-walk, half-float to get there.

The following is a formal rewrite of a 2013 online dream journal entry with added supplementation on Tuesday, 14 August 2018.



Wooden Bridge Mishap of a Friend

Morning of September 18, 2013. Wednesday.

Reading time: 4 min 58 sec. Readability score: 63.

My dream contains features, in a typical composite, from two recurring settings that always vary, as do all settings. One has the appearance of an area in Wisconsin near Chipmunk Coulee (where I lived as a child), and the other is a partial model of the fishing pier in El Jobean, Florida (pictured above). It is inherently a model of subliminal dream state awareness. It is caused by deliberately entering into the dream state with lucidity and expectancy, the setting being a manifestation of this process, but losing the essence of the consciously aware self on the other side of liminal space, though while still maintaining the thread of dream state awareness and wonder if only subliminally. Its foundation is from the Enchanted Forest from Harvey Comics.

The wooden bridge in this dream is a deliberate form of both dream state induction and potential exit upon which the basis is the vestibular system correlation of the otherwise illusory dream body. It stems from the concept of crossing over into a different level of consciousness while maintaining the balance of illusion and elevation from the real physical body. As with a porch, it is one of the most common buffers as such. This reactive representation developed from before I could read and write.

Part of an offset dream before returning to the induction point involves me hand-washing about five darker pairs of my socks in the Loomis Street house in Wisconsin. (This is a subliminal thread of awareness that I am not wearing socks in my sleep.) I think that I will travel north. I have a familiar idea that I have had in many previous dreams - that I will fly about and live and sleep in the trees and fly around mostly only at night in a cloak or bed sheet. The false memory of paying $15.00 a month to live with undesirable males does not appeal to me.

Eventually, I become aware that I will be exploring the Enchanted Forest with Rick, a friend from Chicago during my young-adult years in La Crosse. As we approach the wooden bridge, I see that it does not seem suitable for cars, as the wood is thin plywood. It also does not seem wide enough for cars and people to cross at the same time. I am aware, though, that they are probably still working on building or repairing the bridge at this time and the plywood is only temporary.

Rick and I jog over the first sections and curves, heading east to the wondrous place, but there is concern from Rick that cars may be approaching from behind us from the west, though I do not see or hear any. I move along confidently, running over an area where a small section of wood is missing near the railing to my right. It is about as wide as a person’s waist, big enough to fall through if not paying attention. I soon realize, though, that Rick may not see it if he is not watching where he is going. Sure enough, when he reaches the small open area, he falls through to the ground below only a moment before I start to warn him, about twenty feet, immediately beginning to scream and moan in pain. For a short time, I think about going on by myself, especially as I am aware of a farm below where people may help him.

I look through the gap to see that Rick had picked up the section of plywood that had fallen from the bridge a few days ago. He uses it to saw off the tail from a dog that is watching a flock of sheep. I feel embarrassed by his act as I see an unknown woman approaching him (from the east) to see what is going on. I consider that he will get into trouble. However, she does not seem concerned about the dog. I ask Rick several times if he had broken his leg, but I do not get a clear answer. Eventually, I reach down, and with the help of the woman, we manage to get him back up through the hole. At this point, the distance to the ground seems only about six feet, despite the view from moments before, when it was a very long distance down.

He sits down to rest to look at his leg. I become annoyed that my dream may end before we get to the more secluded area that has beautiful scenery as well as healing energy. (This is interesting, as my dream self is not lucid.) There may also be treasures there. The left side of his left knee, by the kneecap, comes off in four or five smaller ceramic-like pieces that he turns around in his hand with a slight concern. I am not sure if we will be going to the hospital from that point when my dream fades.

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Most of what is in this dream is from autoscripting, developed over a lifetime, though which remains primarily subliminal after moving beyond liminal space. Unfortunately, people who believe in “dream interpretation” seem incapable of understanding that, so I will explain some threads here.

Rick’s entry into my dream is a factor of the continuous persistence of dream state indicators (the subliminal, liminal, or lucid awareness of being asleep and in the dream state). For several months, one of the only status updates on his Facebook timeline was “Rick is going to the mattresses,” including a few times on the date of this dream. That was from updates from a Facebook game he played a lot. It is, of course, a play on going to sleep and dreaming of which I could not block once going beyond liminal space to a point beyond where viable lucidity could exist. Therefore, “Rick is going to the mattresses” was unintentionally part of the autoscripting, and his appearance resulted, not as the usual preconscious avatar but as a projection of my dream self. (The woman who helped him up through the hole was the preconscious avatar in this case.) I am often aware of what is scripting my dreams in real time, though without viable lucidity.

The cutting off of the dog’s tail is from an induction affirmation, “I am made of the healthiest energies in the universe.” It unintentionally stemmed from “puppy dogs’ tails…that’s what little boys are made of.” His left knee being ceramic is a reminder that the physicality of the dream state is illusory. (Left is associated with the direction of sleep induction and dreaming, as I most often sleep on my left side.) It also ties in with one of my first recalled dreams about a ceramic chicken. In real life, the healing of Zsuzsanna’s right knee (beyond medical possibility) had been the result of healing affirmations and, by her belief, my presence (and us finally meeting). It all fits even as a typical distortion, as my original companion on the induction bridge was Brenda, who was proven to have been a stand-in for Zsuzsanna. In childhood dreams, I deliberately (for drama and adventure) fell from the bridge, landing in a prehistoric world, though there were many resets and alternate versions of that series that I used for years.

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Morning of May 1, 2013. Wednesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our children (although the oldest is eighteen) are in a matte silver bus (late 1950s-early 1960s) parked just beyond a large bridge (which is somewhat like a suspension bridge and sparsely covered), still somewhat on the road. It is possibly my father’s old bus he used in real life for a music studio, which was purchased from a church and had a small balcony at the rear and had most of the passenger seats removed. I have a sense that there may be some trouble (such as police officers, escaped convicts, or both). I look out the right windows and down and see a couple cars. Looking closer, I see there are two 1936 Ford Phaetons close to the right side of the bus, one parked behind the other (aligned to the bus), of a very deep blue, almost black, and very shiny and well-cared for. Ahead, also to the right, but more off the road, is another one. This one has a chauffeur standing just outside the door on the left. He is dressed somewhat like a jockey from the 1940s, but a bit more stylish and with more balanced (matching), darker colors.

Zsuzsanna and I decide to leave the bus and look around. I notice that both sides of the road just beyond the bridge are partially blocked (about half on the road, half off); on the right by our bus, and on the left, yet a couple more Ford Phaetons of a darker color (so there are five in all - possibly representing our five children, and the one with the chauffeur - for our baby - or oldest son?

As we are standing there on the bridge in a very peaceful state, my wife and I notice that a massive green algal bloom is covering much of the bridge, road surface, and river’s surface, yet it has an odd “fresh”, “clean” and almost foamy feel to it.

A car (bluish-to-greenish-gray 1990 Lincoln) comes zigzagging and spinning (in slow motion) into our area from the other direction, going from one side of the bridge to the other in various out-of-control patterns. The car is also covered with green algae and slime; even over the windows so that the driver cannot see (the windshield wipers are not going, either). This does not seem unusual (compared to the typical real-life drivers in this region; one had even crashed into our house once and another at a different time into the church across the street, and there are “near-misses” all the time). I decide that perhaps the other cars should be moved out of the way (there is also a vacuum cleaner sitting just outside the bus, which I move out of the way).

However, the 1990 Lincoln swerves violently (though it could have easily went between the other vehicles if the road was not so slippery or if the driver had control), and somehow (before reaching the area the bus and cars are) knocking out a seeming support column of the bridge as well as the side of the walkway. It then goes straight off and plunges into the water, quickly sinking completely, starting at about a forty-five degree angle. There are no escape attempts, so I guess the occupants drowned (similar to one of my last dreams where a car went off a bridge into the water). Soon, the green algae areas flow back again, covering the watery surface’s “hole” the car had made in their growth.

“Very interesting,” I say during the sinking of the car.

There is then a bit of enhanced “roaring” silence, then; insects, birds, a slight breeze rustling the trees, etc

“That was nice”, says my wife sincerely, almost romantically.

“Mmm-hmm”. I agree and nod slowly. I look back, hoping to see more fools drive off the bridge and make a big splash, but there is no more traffic this way. I notice that there was additional damage to the bridge, in that part of it is tipped and broken away. Instead of making a slight attempt at the short jump to get back to our bus, I tell my wife we should just walk around via the other route, which may take five or ten minutes. I wake.

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Although this dream was not precisely precognitive, I did see something similar on the news in real life later; a longer special-imaging video of some sort (from a police helicopter) showing people driving and spinning all over the road as a policeman talked about stopping such people. As I sat watching this video, watching the car go all over the road, onto the footpath, etc. and spinning around for what seemed like ages (and much of it was in slow motion), it did feel like my dream. I even almost expected to see one go off a bridge and into the water, but none did.

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Morning of December 19, 1999. Sunday.



Zsuzsanna and I have our own land, it seems, which is somewhat like a public park otherwise. Access is across a somewhat shaky rope and plank bridge, seemingly over a “bottomless” ravine that does not seem that feasible or safe to use on a regular basis. The directional orientation of the whole area eventually changes, becoming perpendicular to its previous layout (for example, even the long cliff, running east/west seems to change to being north/south), and causes me to focus on, and vaguely puzzle over that more than other earlier aspects as I know it is the “same” location, though at that point I seem disembodied or floating high up over the region. I am not sure what town or area is on the other side of the ravine in either direction - though it is not that defined and seems a wholly fictional place anyway.

We are mostly indulging in lovemaking, though I am wary of people watching (even with binoculars from the other side of the ravine - though they may be seeking to view something else, perhaps looking for rare birds). I am not as concerned about others using the bridge even though it is a strong possibility, I would guess. The “buildings”, which seem somewhat incomplete, are made up of very large dominoes, at least three feet long, and some of the structures are not realistic for habitation, and there is a slight awareness of what to do concerning the fact that there do not appear to be roofs on any building. I try to remain behind a randomly arranged set of domino walls, but then realize the view in the other directions are wide open. Some attempts are made to change the arrangement, in which case the dominoes are not that hard to move. The immediate area mostly appears as random single walls (single dominoes) at slightly different angles. There is no actual confrontation with the public.

When I was much younger, I sometimes built structures out of dominoes (only in my room when living in Cubitis), such as isolated staircases up and through a hallway and small rooms with roofs within a larger “house” or “castle”, which I found enjoyment and even mystery in. In fact, I enjoyed it more than any sessions with Lincoln Logs or Lego. I had a few sets of dragon dominoes, though some of a slightly different shade and a few that seemed to be from another set or company (though most had the dragon design, others with a flower-like pattern).

Morning of November 3, 1977. Thursday.



This was one of the only times a dream seemed to be interrupted by a different dream in an atypical, somewhat startling fashion. I was in one dream and then another dream “broke into it” like a radio broadcast very suddenly “drowning out” another with a completely different degree of awareness.

My second dream was much more vivid than the first (and with growing lucidity). In the first dream, I seem to be at a television studio yet not fully present (not disembodied, just not directly in the environment), the ceiling being about twelve feet high. The New Mouseketeers, all dressed in plain white clothes, seem to be involved in some sort of unlikely science-fiction movie or televised special (perhaps live) but they are also dancing on roller skates and moving past the camera several times without the camera panning in any way. When I look around, I mostly see very large white cubes, almost like steps (but too tall to use as steps and about three cubes high closest to the walls), but possibly containers. It seems fairly dark and isolated in some areas of the huge building (but not completely dark in any areas) and the otherwise featureless warehouse-like setting. Their dancing, motions, and singing (which I think the main line or title is “The World’s a Balloon”) becomes slightly annoying (almost perceived as bizarre) though they seem to be getting a bit more enthusiastic and practiced in their performance, almost frenzied in fact, but in a comedic sense.

Suddenly, there is a clearer awareness of mood and location that jumps like a needle on a record and I am in a different dream flying over Key West almost as if I had been plucked from one dream (of a completely different level of clarity and awareness) and put into another. Even the depth perception seems quite different and somewhat enhanced. A very long bridge stretches out over the ocean as I watch the cars move over it as I fly along. It is extremely vivid though the ocean is a deep purple. Everything else looks normal including the sky. Dreams do have a tendency to jump from scene to scene in some cases, but this was actually like a different type of experience, like actually “changing channels” and a quite different mental awareness at the same time.

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Morning of July 17, 1977. Sunday.



Disney’s cartoon ducks Huey, Dewey, and Louie are all on one unicycle. Each one is on the shoulders of the previous. The duck sitting on the actual unicycle and steering it ends up going off the road after going over a bridge, and landing in the river. The other two blame him.

“This is not my fault,” he says. “It’s a frame-up!”

“What’s a frame?” asks another.

“It’s something that holds a picture.”

“What’s a pitcher?”

“Something that holds wateh (water)!”

“What’s Wateh?”

“Something we’re up to our necks to in!”

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Although this short “adventure” was not much for precognition, it does remind me of a story I heard from someone else later in real life whom had recently also came to Australia. He said he had gone into a restaurant and said “water”. The person behind the counter acted as if they did not understand even when he repeated it. Finally, he said, he slapped his hand down, very loudly and “clearly” saying “WAH-TAH!” and then they understood. I viewed this dream as if floating in front of the scene, which is three-dimensional even though it is like a cartoon.

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Morning of October 2, 1965. Saturday.



My dream contains scenes of a red anglerfish of which I mostly perceive as just below the surface of the water each time. I am walking in Pettibone Park with Marilyn (an older half-sister on my mother’s side) and her husband Bob, mostly going southeast, from the Barron Island area. They do not seem to notice the fish or show any concern. I do not feel threatened at any point, only somewhat wary of being near the particular area of water it is in at different times.

I am aware that this ugly fish is possibly a threat to nature in that it is apparently eating all the fish in a smaller pond. There is one point where it appears to be the only fish left. There is also an idea that it may be drinking all the water that it is in, although I also consider that the water is lowering naturally (though in real life, it is mostly only one main body of water in the area, though the water did rise and lower based on another area being used for barge traffic). There are scenes where the fish seems to teleport to different bodies of water ahead of us as we walk through the park, including a rut that I reason was made by a tractor, the rut having been filled with rain a day or two earlier. I also get the impression at one point that it can breathe out of water, at least for a short time.

There is a thought that it has certain human characteristics and perhaps can speak, though it never speaks in my dream. Still, I consider that it may be able to communicate by thought with its “antenna” (esca). There is an expectant awareness when there seems to be a “channel open” in a similar way as a radio being on a station without an audible broadcast (a sparsely recurring dream state awareness caused by being subliminally aware of being in the dream state). This scene occurs while we all stand on a small bridge, which is an altered version of the South Pettibone Drive bridge in that it curves upward towards the middle (the alteration being a result of biological vestibular system dynamics).

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Key factors:

• Water lowering waking symbolism, common autosymbolism for the cessation of the dream state, unrelated to waking life. Water otherwise symbolizes the absence of emotion and the essence of sleep and unconsciousness.
• Bridge, autosymbolism for the imminent return to consciousness, unrelated to waking life.
• Anglerfish as emergent consciousness autosymbolism whereas fish and other water denizens as emergent consciousness autosymbolism is otherwise very common.
• This dream was primarily influenced by “The Outer Limits” episode “Tourist Attraction”, seen just prior to sleep. However, the fish-like creatures in “The Outer Limits” episode had arms and legs.
• Some deep-sea anglerfish emit light from their esca. While this may simply be autosymbolism for the increase of neural energy in the waking transition, it may also hint at transpersonal communication in liminal space and what later in my life became the Blue Flame Event with Zsuzsanna. This is despite the influence of “Tourist Attraction” with the fish-like creatures emitting ultrasonic pulses.
• The color red typically only becomes a factor of dream-self focus when I have slept too long.
• My original childhood dream journal title was “The Devilfish”, not because I had any concern or belief in any “devil” but because it was red and additionally vaguely associated with Hot Stuff, the Harvey Comics character.
• Obviously, there were no anglerfish in the region in real life.
• To see the location of my dream’s last scene, Google “310 south pettibone drive la crosse wi” in quotes and select “Street View”, though the area has changed somewhat since the 1960s.

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