Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 17, 2017. Tuesday.



In my goal to strengthen my online journal against the fallacy of “dream interpretation”, I have, to the best of my ability, clarified this entry and recompiled the underlying meaning and root influences.

I am alone in an unfamiliar car in late morning, though which is implied to be my dream self’s car. I am parked near the center of the parking lot of Skogen’s IGA in La Crosse, logically facing south towards the store’s entrance. Although I am in America, the driver’s side is on the right. There are several other parked cars around, all with people in them. (Both the driver’s side being on the wrong side and all the cars in the parking lot illogically having people in them are dream-state indicators. Erroneous dream-state indicators of this type are so common, it seems to be a natural dividing mechanism to separate dream-state memory from real-life memory).

After a few minutes of looking around as I am seated behind the steering wheel (with no backstory as to whether there was intent to go into the store or to leave and drive elsewhere), an unknown male erratically drives a car around in the parking lot. There is machine gun fire from the car and someone (in the car) is hollering about a race. In the car are two males who are dressed as 1920s gangsters. It seems that everyone is being challenged to get away and to apparently hide somewhere. I am not sure if there is a literal finish line.

I decide to drive away as quickly as possible. I go down an alley which is seemingly the one behind the Loomis Street house. I drive into a large garage and get out of the car though sit near it in the semidarkness. It seems I may be safe here.

After a time, there is activity just outside in the alley. The gangsters are looking for the people who had driven away from the parking lot. I hear objects falling over just outside the garage but I remain still. I do not think they will find me.

Eventually, I look up and see a large circular hole in the ceiling of the garage and a giant human eye, atypically rendered in black and white, peers down through the hole. The eye and its movement has somewhat of a slight blurry effect as if a giant television was just above the hole in the ceiling, facing downwards. There are even a couple lines of “static” as the eye moves side to side as if in REM sleep, though it remains open, unblinking. I am not sure if I will be seen but I do not feel afraid. This surreal situation does not trigger any sense of it being impossible.

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Step-by-step explanation for the inexperienced:

In my dreams, sitting in a car in a parking lot (or simply being in a parking lot) is a biological indicator of being in bed and typically represents the last stage of a sleep cycle, the subliminal “waiting period” for the increase in beta neural activity (13–30 Hz). This has been validated from the study of hundreds of parallel examples since early childhood. There is no reason to assume that the parking lot is “symbolic” of anything in real life, which does not even make any sense other than perhaps to people falling prey to the Barnum effect of “dream interpretation”.

My dream self typically runs away simply out of the lack of enthusiasm over waking up (more obvious in this case as I subliminally knew what being in the parking lot meant even though my dream self did not), though which is random and completely unrelated to how I view sleep or waking in general (and after all, every day is different). My dream self typically runs away from the more dominant preconscious (until the emergent consciousness is linked and activated), which most often has absolutely nothing in common with me or of any relevance to my waking life. It is not known whether the noise outside the garage, another form of liminal space, was based on real environmental noise, but it seems likely, especially as the REM symbolism was activated right afterwards.

The very last scene, an intriguing indicator of being in REM sleep, was directly influenced by the “Don’t Open Till Doomsday” episode of “The Outer Limits” television series, which I had not seen in years and first watched as a child while I drifted in and out of sleep and lucid and semi-lucid dream states. (This was a major influence that heightened my interest in various levels of consciousness.) The episode, on one level, is a perfect metaphor for the conscious self subliminally “watching” the fictional dream self. In fact, my dream even included the black-and-white television imagery from the original show, even including the static.

Finally, there is another layer of meaning. In this case, it is almost like an analogy to my life. In order to viably clarify it, I must quote part of an original summary of the episode: “In 1929, a pair of young newlyweds receives a mysterious box-like object wrapped as a wedding gift with a cryptic label reading ‘Don’t Open Till Doomsday’. Unbeknownst to his bride, the bridegroom is zapped by a beam of light emanating from this object when he removed it from the wrapping, and seemingly disappears out of existence. In 1964, an eloping couple arrives at the house in the hopes of using it as a honeymoon spot, now a half-derelict mansion owned by Mrs. Kry, an eccentric old woman who turns out to be the aforesaid bride, driven to insanity after her husband disappeared. After the younger bride herself disappears inside the box, it is revealed that Mrs. Kry has been luring young couples to her house, in the hope of 'trading’ them for her lost bridegroom, with an alien intelligence residing inside the box.”

How does this relate to me and my life? The box represents the fictional and contained form of a dream limited by a total lack of understanding of dreams (that nearly all “interpreters” exhibit), or believing that a dream relates only to current real-life status. This is like an alternate timeline (in metaphor) of what could have happened if I (or Zsuzsanna) had believed in “interpretation” (“receiving the box”) when I was growing up. That is, I would not have ultimately learned that the “mystery girl” of my dreams, rather than being “symbolic” or of solely being another aspect of myself, was actually literally precognitive of my eventual joining with my “mystery girl” Zsuzsanna. This is pure truth.

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Curious marker: This dream was on the morning of January 17, 2017. The episode of “The Outer Limits” that influenced it was from season 1, episode 17.

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Morning of April 13, 2014. Sunday.



I am wandering about seemingly on the north-side of La Crosse but not in or near any places of people I know. I am apparently looking for something, but I am not sure what. I am absentmindedly assuming I am near my (fictional) home where my wife Zsuzsanna and our family live (even though they have never lived in America).

I eventually find myself near an area that looks sort of like a very large garage that comes out from an area covering at least half of three different backyards. It is fully open on one side to the east. There are three beds with the head assumed to be to the west wall. There are a couple cars also parked on the south side from where I am, parallel to the beds. I decide to lie down on the northernmost bed to have a rest from all my walking. The beds are clean and seemingly recently made.

A short time later, a car pulls in and parks at the southern end near the third bed. A male and female get out of the car. The girl of about twenty or so comes over and lies down in the bed I am in without paying much attention to me. She is pregnant, seemingly about eight to nine months, possibly nearly ready to give birth. The man comes over but is involved in something else and remains standing. I say something about not knowing that the bed was theirs but no one else says anything or seems to notice. I wake up before I get out of the bed in my dream.

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This dream is mostly a dream sign in itself (a bed being the most obvious dream sign). It also hints that a car in a dream is a residual memory of the dreamer’s bed. In this case, the garage is the liminal space. The otherwise unknown characters at the end are an “opposite” play on my wife Zsuzsanna and me waking up.

Morning of December 26, 2013. Thursday.



In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar garage in Wisconsin, it seems, although my wife Zsuzsanna is with me. There is a tall, thin stack of smaller boxes of books that falls over without causing any damage. We seem to be moving a few things around. I notice a heavyset man staring at me from the opening to the garage (the opening apparently to the east). He walks into the garage and stares at me intently, looking into my eyes.

“Why are you an alien?” he says in a way almost implying cross-examination. He seems to have a special gift to see the “different wiring” within my physical nature and brain design - something people usually seem to sense but do not comment on, or maybe they recognize that I am only pretending to understand what people are saying to avoid confrontation.

“Because I am not you and am not like you,” I say calmly, but in a slightly patronizing way. I do not like him at all and do not look away from his intense and unduly patronizing gaze. He seems to be of the conspiracy-theorist “everything is doom or devils or aliens” mentality; the type who spends time considering all manner of fictional systems and completely unfeasible potential of the countless fraudulent “lunatic fringe” websites. (I recall a small plastic “device” from a New Age magazine years ago which I got just to see what it really was. It was supposedly designed to improve health by having some sort of “protective field” move out from the wearer’s body. When I took it apart, I saw that all it was was a small circuit-board in which the sole function was to make the small light flash on and off. Hilariously stupid.)

The chubby unknown male soon attacks me physically but I grab him and stretch him out somehow until all that is left of him is his belt. I go to the garage entrance and throw this belt out into the alley as two girls are walking by, heading north (I believe we are at the north-side of La Crosse). He somehow screams for help (as a belt, but changing form a bit, including a brief period as a rattlesnake) but they do not notice. Eventually, he is able to “regenerate” himself, but is more overweight than before and dressed in mismatched clothes, some of them women’s clothes - in about three layers. He is also wearing a periwig and starts yelling about aliens again, while shaking a golf club at me. I also notice, at this point, he is about a foot shorter than before.

I tell him sternly and very seriously, “the fact that people like you are allowed to run around promoting false systems and false ideologies and leading other people astray is proof enough that humans are not fit to occupy this planet”. (By that, I seem to be perhaps illogically inferring that both the con artists and the victims are “unfit”.) From here I wake.

Morning of November 30, 2013. Saturday.



This is a shorter but more vivid dream with a very clear awareness. It mostly involved an older (possibly out-of-use or even abandoned) commercial/public garage. There is an awareness of new work being done, though. An unknown man in overalls (possibly a mechanic) walks up to me and gives me a key (on a smaller chain or necklace of some kind) in a friendly manner. The key is shaped like a gold-colored triangular prism with the triangular structure having a notch in the middle of each side. I discover that I had been (apparently absentmindedly) holding a remote lock, or rather a lock that activates something from a fair distance with some sort of radio signal when activated with the key. It apparently allows access to a room of the garage when unlocked, the garage being about a block or two away and more of a rural surrounding. The lock looks a lot like a Toblerone container in size and dimensions (triangular prism chocolate bar). It is of a higher technology yet seems somewhat mystical in association. As the man walks away, he whistles in a vivid loud manner, so loud that it seems like a louder hypnopompic sound pulse. I wake fairly quickly wondering if the sound was actually real and in my immediate environment, but it was not. It was very similar to a faster version of the second (four-note) phrase from “The Other” (1972) whistled theme but with the first two notes seeming of the same pitch. I am wondering who the person was and what was going on. He seemed cheerful and helpful (seeming to demand my attention) but nothing happens after that. It almost seemed like he whistled that way to wake me up from my dream, which in fact is what actually happened, so I did not have the opportunity to explore the garage although I did insert the triangular-prism-key into the lock and was aware that it was then sending a remote signal to open a door somewhere.

In an earlier dream, I was living with my family in a large, unusual apartment (on at least the fourth floor), apparently in a larger city. In the most vivid part of my dream, a large flock of birds seems to be “invading” the area. They seem like some sort of stork, but of a smaller size. They get in through a couple vents, but not through any windows. I am aware that they are leaving a mess, droppings all over the floor, somewhat (four-leaf) clover-shaped, which become almost like a design in the tiles of the floor, almost integrating with the other patterns. They fly around filling nearly the entire apartment (near ceiling level). I ponder on how long it will take to clean the floor. There are other issues as well, but not as unusual or dramatic. The birds do not pose a direct threat but are noisy and messy and it seems strange that they do not prefer being outside in the open sky. At an earlier point, there was a minor association with the “Victoria Rose” character from years ago. This was an attractive witch who rode a closed umbrella like the standard witch’s broom. In this case, it seems to be my wife. There is also a generic Igor-like character (by pop culture myth), somewhat like Peter Lorre.